Natasha
What's happening?
I walk slowly, dizzily, through the corridors of DBS to my office, still trying to make sense of the strange conversation with Steve in the elevator.
I mean, if I'm going to make sense of something, I'd better start with Steve's disappearance yesterday, which he hadn't explained to me.
Steve and I had fought hundreds of times before, but he had never disappeared afterward without an explanation and even stayed out all night.
At first I was furious, already wondering what the fuck he'd done, and I even listed a few options in my mind while I showered.
Option 1 — Steve spent the night working at DBS like the good workaholic he was, not giving a damn about me or Penelope.
What if a thief broke into the house? How did they forget about me in that movie, the wet thieves, or whatever they called it, who flooded the house after stealing everything, taking advantage of people being out for Christmas?
Guys, I'm creative but I have no idea how to make Kevin's cool traps. I really should have watched that movie more often as a kid. Was it on Netflix? I could watch it with Penelope and...
Option 2 — Steve left DBS and went to some pub for a drink and drank so much he fell into some gutter and was probably now waking up with his ass frozen and some dog licking his mouth.
Option 3 — Steve cleared our bank accounts and fled to Mexico, assuming a new identity, with some exotic name like Antônio de Guadalupe, and now he's going to make a career as a Mexican soap opera star. Let's face it, he's handsome like Fernando Calunga and, wow, he could even do a new version of Maria do Bairro.
None of these options seemed reasonable to me.
As he got me ready for work and then said goodbye to Penelope, who was nursing very quietly while watching cartoons, I still felt dizzy.
Irina, Penelope's Russian-born nanny, had calmed me down by saying that Steve probably had some reason for not coming home. But what did she know? Irina was a widow and had moved with her husband when she was twenty to England for his work. I still thought that such work must have something to do with the Russian police, the KGB. Surely Irina's husband was some spy who moved to London to spy on English citizens! And so it must have been common for him to spend nights and even days out.
But Steve wasn't a spy—I mean, he'd be cool if he was, right? Like that series “The Americans”, where the Russian couple moves to the United States and pretends to be American. I'd do great being a spy, since I'm a well of discretion and my alias could be Black Widow and Steve Captain Am...
So I couldn't find any plausible reason why he'd stayed out all night. And what was my surprise to see him in the elevator and still pretending he didn't know me?
What kind of game is Steve playing with me?
"Natasha, are you okay?" I hear my assistant Miguel's voice calling to me as I walk right past his desk and into my office, collapsing in my chair.
Miguel enters the room behind me looking at me worriedly.
— Natasha, beloved, why are you doing the Egyptian?
"Steve..." I whisper in a daze and Miguel chuckles, closing the door behind him and sitting in front of me.
"Did you fight with Steve?" Tell me everything. Let's analyze this there, I'm sure it's not as bad as it sounds. How about picking up one of those coffees you love at Starbucks?
Miguel is trying to cheer me up like he always does when I'm upset about something, or mad at Steve like most. And he always does, which has earned him many successive raises in the last few months since he started working for me.
I really wasn't too sure that hiring Justin's Puerto Rican boyfriend, my ex-boss, would be a good idea, when Justin asked for a spot there at DBS, now that Miguel had gotten permission to work in the country and was no longer there. illegal.
However, Miguel was really efficient. Besides beautiful and always willing to cheer me up. Whether fetching coffee and donuts for me, or giving me a foot massage, or playing my personal stylist because he also knew a lot about fashion and even sewed and designed clothes!
"Want me to take my shirt off to cheer you up?" he suggests, already putting his hands on his shirt and I stop him.
- It's no use...
I don't think seeing Miguel working shirtless today is going to be able to cheer me up like it used to.
Of course Steve, or anyone at DBS, has no idea about this unorthodox practice, but who cares? I'm sure if the world were less straight and talkative, it would understand that human bodies are made to be appreciated, even more toned bodies like Miguel's. And let's agree that it's even in the Bible, right? Look at Adam and Eve, living naked in Paradise and such.
“Gee, Natasha is worrying me! What did Steve do this time that was so serious? ifwell that most of the time you are the one who gets ready and makes him angry, right?
"Hey, not most of the time!" — I take offense.
He laughs indulgently.
"Okay, so I understand it's Steve's fault this time?" What is it now?
"Well, for starters, yesterday he hid in the basement to... work!"
— Oh, what a scoundrel! But honey, he really is a workaholic and I bet you love that about him.
— I don't love it!
"Are you going to say you'd rather he was one of those idle guys who spends his day playing golf?" As if! You were drawn to his aura of power, admit it. I know how it is. Don't forget that I'm also like you and I love a tie!
“But Justin isn't a workaholic like Steve!
"So that's what the fight was about?"
“Actually, that's not even the strangest thing. After I caught him in the act, I made him put the ornaments on the tree Penelope destroyed.
Miguel lets out a laugh.
“That girl is worse than a stray cat.
"That's what I say!" And I also demanded that he put the lights in the house, you know? Obviously Steve hates this, but what did he want? that I put? Okay, I'm pretty much a fan of feminist causes and all, but some things are men who have to do. Like menial jobs and opening the sauce cans! Anyway, I was taking care of Penelope and then when I realized Steve was getting in the car and disappearing!
- Like this?
"He came to DBS, can you believe it?"
“Oh, how sneaky!
“A motherfucker that is. I was waiting for him to come back really angry! To mean. I had thought about going on a sex strike, but then I decided that reverse therapy would be better. Lots of sex so he can forget about work. But I woke up this morning and he hadn't come home!
- Serious? And where did he go? Did you spend the night here?
- I don't know! And that's not the worst!
— Is there worse?
"I met him in the elevator and he acted like he didn't know me!"
- Like this?
- That's right! Me yelling at him and asking where he was and he kept talking to me like he's never seen me!
“My God, did Steve do the crazy thing?
"Or I'm crazy, I don't even know anymore!" But I still don't understand anything. He didn't explain what happened and left the elevator ignoring me. What got into him? Is he using drugs? Are you part of some brainwashing cult?
'Or are you faking it?'
- Pretending?
“Yeah, I had a boyfriend who did that when he got mad. He spent hours ignoring me and pretending I wasn't there. Sometimes days.
“But Steve is pretty fucked up if he's lying.
'What else can it be?' He must have been mad at you yesterday and decided to give you a cold.
"I should be angry!"
- He is sure?
- What you mean?
'Did you really not do anything?'
“Well, I was really energetic and bossy and… Oh God, was Steve really mad at me for the way I talked to him?
“Sometimes straight people are like that, honey. I'm sorry. They find it logical to be assholes, because they feel threatened in their masculinity.
- What?
“You're pretty bossy and intense when you want to be, and that would take a toll on any man's ego. In a guy like Steve, who was always the one controlling everything around him... Imagine how he must have felt...
'How did he feel?'
— Castrated.
- Oh no! I would never do that!
— But believe me, the next step will be to flirt.
- No!
“Listen to what I'm saying.
“Oh Miguel, you're very good at this. It should have its own column in Cosmo about relationships.
- I also think.
"So Steve is going to spend days like this ignoring me because he feels like I cut his dick off metaphorically or something?"
- I don't know.
“How can I fix this?
“I'm sure you'll find a way.
I stand up.
- Right. I'll work it out, and in the best Natasha and Steve style!
"That's it girl!"
I march out of the room while Miguel is doing Beyoncé steps in “Run the World (girls)”.
I'll go to Steve's office and give him the best oral sex ever known. If that doesn't fix it, I don't know what else does.