Monday I wore a high-neck sweater so my throat wouldn't be visible. I hadn't done anything on Sunday. Reading a book just for fun didn't count.
I hesitated before the building for a moment before stepping inside.
I scanned my card, smiled at the security guard and waited in line by the elevators.
The third elevator took me to my floor. I went to my office, turned on the computer and went into Trisha's office. Even though she was my boss and me employee, she was the person I was closest to in the moment.
I knocked on her door and pushed it open.
"Morning," she said and looked at me.
I had covered the bruise on my jaw so it didn't seem as bad.
I went in and shut the door after me. "I was with a few friends from high school Friday night," I began. "I went home alone around eight and a man wanted my bag and he, uhm, got sort of violent towards me." I said and pulled out on the neck of my sweater so she could see the bruise.
She was standing and around the table before I'd let go of my shirt. "Are you okay?" she asked worried. Her dark eyes scanned my face.
I nodded. "I just thought you should know," I said. Now I was new in New York and I was freaked out the day I saw the cop with the gun.
She still looked worried at me.
I moistened my lips. "I'll get to it." I said.
She nodded slowly.
I left her office and went back to my computer. I had that advertisement which had to be created on computer. Just today I was glad I didn't have to work with anyone else.
It took longer than anticipated but it wasn't because I couldn't solve it.
I ate my lunch with Trisha who wanted to know everything about Friday. I skipped the part about sleeping at Alexander Greene's place, the owner of the building. But except that I was consistent and kept to the story. I had talked with the police, had been checked by a doctor and had arrived back home safe.
I'd made the draft of the advertisement when I was off work. Text and images had been positioned, but I had to do the details and find the correct font and everything. It didn't help that I twice had been asked to help advertise some book cover which should've been completed.
I dumped my heels in the bottom drawer and stood. Time to get home.
I wanted to read, anything to abstract myself from what had happened Friday. Hide in another reality.
I waved goodbye to Trisha and went to the elevator. If I waited a moment I wouldn't be caught in an elevator with a million people.
I wanted to go home.
I pushed the button and waited.
The elevator furthers from me announced its arrival with a loud pling. I went to it and the doors opened.
Black suit. It looked like the security guard Alexander had.
He looked at me. "Can I have a word with you?" he asked.
I remained were I was.
He stepped out of the elevator. "Greene wishes a word with you," he said.
I took a deep breath. Because he'd been so kind to me on Friday, I followed black suit into the elevator.
He punched in a code, and the elevator went up.
I stared at the door. Now I really wanted to go home, but no?
The elevator halted at the top floor.
Black suit held the doors open with his arm until I'd exited. He walked me down a hall with open doors on both side, open-offices.
The door at the end of the hall.
He knocked, received a grunt as answer and pushed open the door.
Alexander was standing behind his desk, watching us. "Thank you, Jazz," he said.
So the security guard was Jazz?
I stepped into the office and the door was shut after me.
"I've paid for the hospital," he said. "No discussion."
I probably should argue against it, but I saw it as his way to apologize for the inappropriate question Friday afternoon.
He walked around the desk and leaned back against it. He wore a charcoal gray suit again, the shirt white, the tie dark blue. It matched his yes.
"Can I offer you a ride home?" he asked.
"I'll walk," I said. "I would like to walk," I corrected myself. After having been sitting down all day I wanted to move a little.
He ran his fingers through his hair. "Fine," he said and walked to the door. "I'll have to take the elevator down too," he said and opened the door.
I walked with him to the elevator.
He pushed a button and looked at me.
I looked at the elevator. This was awkward, that he did this and then didn't say anything. I could small talk but I was drained from the weekend.
The elevator arrived with a loud pling.
The doors opened and he let me enter first before following. Jazz appeared out of thin air and followed.
Jazz. Who was even called that? Apologies, but I had had classes with a guy in college named Jensen, and that was weird too.
We went all the way down without stop. I looked at Jazz who'd put a key in the wall. Maybe that was why?
Why did this seem like some horrible book?
We reached the lobby. I walked out, smiled at the guard and was outside.
"Christina?"
I looked back.
Alexander went to me. "How are you?" he asked.
I nodded. "Fine, thank you." I replied.
His eyebrows dived, hiding his blue eyes.
"It doesn't hurt anymore, and I'm doing fine," I repeated.
He ran his fingers through his hair and looked past me.
Yeah, I wasn't that tall. 5 foot 4.
His lips didn't move but it looked as if he wanted to swear, badly. "Good." He said. He looked at me. "Get home safe," he said.
"You to," I said, my voice almost inaudible.
He turned and got into his car.
I turned around and walked home. This week was already weird.
My trip home was without any interruptions. A small girl stood crying with an ice-cream cone, her dad held her hand. It assumed.
I walked up the stairs, cooked for myself, sat down on the couch and zapped through the channels before turning it off. I turned on my computer, checked up on my money, wrote a mail to Dad before turning off my computer. I went to my bedroom to read.
Lying in my belly, on my bed, I read fictitious books that made me forget reality until I was ready to face it again. I had always been like that.