I am HER... (6 page)

  When the phone suddenly rings, I jump in my chair.  Oh, no. Is it him? 
Shit
.  Do I answer?  What the
hell
do I do?  Grabbing for the phone, I inhale deeply and say...

 
"Good morn..." but I'm cut off.
  "Well... if it isn't Ms. Sugar, Honey, Sweetie, Babe.  How are you this morning?"  
God,
his voice is lovely
. 
I just pause for a moment to absorb his voice into my body.
  "Good morning, Mr. Zinfandel.  I'm fine thank you.  I was going to reply to your emails in just a minute or two."  I try to sound casual but his voice is so distracting.
  "Were you?  Well, that's good to hear.  I don't like to be left waiting...
Ms?
  Never mind.  I'll just add to the list, shall I?  How about
Sweetheart?
  Yes.  I like the sound of that.  You seem like you would be a genuine
sweetheart
to me
.”

 
My head is spinning.  What the hell is he talking about?  How would he know if I'm a
'sweetheart'?
  "Um… that would be
MRS.
Sweetheart then."
  "Happily?" 
  "That’s none of your business MR. Zinfandel," I respond, clearly offended by his bold question.
  "
NOT
happily, I take it.  You see, if you were happy you would have automatically replied, 'Yes. Very happily', like most everyone does when they describe a good relationship.  You, however, told me off.  This means, of course, that you don’t want to talk about your
unhappy
marriage."  Argh…
  Slam.  I hang up the phone.  I hung up the phone?! 
WHAT DID I JUST DO??
  I just slammed the phone down on the New York Accounts Manager; the man who could have me fired with one phone call to Mr. Shields.

 
I think I'm going to throw up and it's only 9:21 in the morning.  Trying to breathe through the nausea, I hear his voice...
      "
Breathe with me... Come on... Breathe…"
and suddenly the weight lifts off my chest.
  Glancing at my computer, I have 2 new emails.  I hope they’re not from him.  Yes!  One is Mr. Heinrick’s expense report... And one is from Mr. Zinfandel of the New York office, timed one minute ago. 
Shit.
 

___________________________________
From:  Z. Zinfandel

Subject:  Phone slamming

Wednesday, May 25

9:25am
Dear
MRS.
Sweetheart,
That was very rude.  But I will forgive you
this time
because you were not, in fact, told that I find the slamming of a phone in one’s ear, to be quite rude.  Please keep it in mind in the future, however.
I will call you again later to discuss the expenses Mr. Craig accumulated, and where exactly we should proceed from here.
Yours,
Z
___________________________________
 

"Yours, Z"??
 
WHAT THE HELL?  He gave me a 'rudeness' warning?  He wants me to
remember
the warning in the future?  This is
too messed up.
 
  Maybe I'll show Kayla, and ask her what I should do.  What would
she
do?  Oh, Kayla would probably have him apologizing to
her
for NOT liking
her
rudeness.  Kayla can turn any man any
way
she wants.  I've seen her.  She would probably love this, this...
what? 
Maybe I'll tell her later?  Maybe, I shouldn't?   Maybe...?
No.
  Nothing.  I'll just ignore it, and hope I don't act rude again to Mr. Zinfandel so he won't tell Mr. Shields about my poor behavior.
 

                                
==========
 

  By 12:15, I'm starving.
  Checking my emails before heading for lunch, I see a new one from Mr. Zinfandel.
___________________________________
From:  Z. Zinfandel

Subject:  C
hecking up on you…

Wednesday, May 25

12:02pm
Dear Sweetheart,
I trust your day is better now than it was at 9:15 this morning?
I looked up your photo in the company directory, and I must say I am quite pleased. You are very attractive.

Your lips are
gorgeous- they look like they were made for kissing.

B
ut your eyes are simply
alluring.
I find myself looking at your eyes often.  Do you know what your eyes could do to a man?
Z
___________________________________
  Wow!  How inappropriate of him.  My
eyes?
  Yes,
I
know they’re very pretty, but no one else really does.  No one else sees me as
alluring
.  No one really sees me,
at all.
  After deleting the message, I grab my purse and run out the door.  Once in my car, I have to think of an errand.  I don't want to lie to Kayla, so if I actually
do
something, then I never
actually
lied to her.  I'll go to the mall nearby.  And buy... what?  More black suits? More black skirts?  More black heels?  What do I need to buy?
  Once in the mall, I am surrounded by teenagers.  I guess it's lunchtime at the high school around the corner.  God, they’re so
loud.
  Was I ever loud?  No.  I've never been loud, screamed, laughed, or been silly in my life. 
Jeez,
I sound so boring, even to myself. 
  Entering a very posh shoe store, I'm instantly attracted to a pair of killer cut-out 4 1/2 inch stilettos.  Not entirely appropriate for work, but if I pair them down with black slacks; they might not look too slutty.

 
However, if I paired them with a skirt, I would look like I was walking the streets.  Yeah, but how much could I really earn as a prostitute?  My husband takes only five minutes to finish.  Maybe a 'John' would take 15 minutes before
he
got off...  What
is
the going rate per minute for
putting out?
  I guess it depends on what I would have to do... Ew. Gross.
  Totally unaware of my purchase, I'm suddenly standing at the store exit with my new shoes and the receipt in my hand.  Well, I guess $125.00 isn't
too much
to pay for slutty stilettos I'll probably never wear.... Unless, of course, I do take up street-walking as a second income to pay for said slutty stilettos.  Giggle.  Ooops.  What am I
doing
here?

  W
alking back to my car, I toss my new shoes in the backseat and pause.  What do I do now?  I still have 25 minutes to kill.  So turning on my car, I fill it with a nice stream of cool air conditioning while I kill time.  Leaning my head back, I close my eyes and relax. 
  Kayla will never know I'm stalling.  I'll show her my shoes and pretend I had to look for a gift for my mother’s birthday, which
is
actually in three and a half weeks... so not
really
a lie.

  W
ow.  I better actually start looking for the perfect gift.  God knows, I wouldn't dare to disappoint my mother... Marcus would be horrified.

                                
==========

                                                         
  Waking with a jolt, I look at the clock and its 4:25. 
OH, MY GOD!
  I've been gone for 4 hours and asleep for over 3 hours
in my car!
Why?!
  What the hell is
wrong
with me?! 
  Snapping off the air, I try to recover from my drowsiness.  What the hell do I say at work?  Where the hell is my cell phone? 
Christ,
did anybody call me from work?  Upending my purse on the passenger seat, I have 2 missed calls and 2 text messages.  
Shit.
  First message
:

     "Hi, Sweetie.
  Where are you?  Its 2:00 and you've been gone for over an hour and a half.  Is everything okay?" 
 
What do I say to Kayla?

  Second message:

     "Hi.
  Me, again.  Its 3:30.  I'm not sure where you are, but I checked the company appointments schedule, plus your personal schedule on your computer and you have no appointments this afternoon... Are you alright?!"
 

Kayla sounds a bit pissed.
 
First text: 2:43

     "call me.
  shields lookn for u.  told him ur at a meetn. K."
 
Second text: 4:12

     “where r u?
  Call me ASAP.  I stalled shields.  U O me.  It's 4:13.  WTF?"
 
Shit!
  Kayla sounds
really
pissed now.
  Dialing Kayla's number as I speed out of the parking lot, I don't know what to say.  One lie a day is too much for me.  I hate lying.  And I
really
hate lying to Kayla.  Plus, I think she knows when I'm lying anyway.  It's not like I have a poker-face or anything.
  When she answers I just start spilling. "Hi Kayla. Sorry. I'm fine.  Would you believe me if I said I fell asleep in the car?  Honestly.  I was sound asleep... "
  "Is everything okay?"  She laughs.
  "Yeah... No.  I mean, yes.  I didn't even know I was tired.  Thanks for covering for me."
  "Ah, are you coming back to work?" She sounds totally confused.

 
“Yes. I'll be back in 5 minutes.  Do you have any ideas what I can say to Mr. Shields?  I'm totally desperate for a cover story.”
  "Um... What about the Marriot?"
  "Oh, that's a good one!  I'll say I was at the Marriott scheduling the Buyers luncheon.  Thanks so much Kayla."
  "No problem, Sweetie."
  "
Really
, thank you for covering for me.  See you in a few minutes."
 

                                
  ==========

  Running into the building, I pass Kayla's office, poke my head in the door, smile and mouth "thanks" and head for my office.  Passing the Receptionist Claire, I smile but she looks at me kind of shocked or something.  
What? 
Why is she looking at me like
that
?  Shit!  Am I in trouble with Shields?
  Stopping, I smile at Claire again and tell her, "I didn't realize my cell was off.  I was at the Marriott all afternoon preparing the Buyers luncheon.  Did I miss anything important this afternoon?"
  Still just staring at me, I wait.  When Claire opens her mouth to speak, Kayla suddenly grabs me by the arm instead and starts pulling me toward my office. 
What the hell?

 
Once we’re in my closed office, I pull my arm away. "What?!  Why are you pushing me like that?  I said I was sorry on the phone.  I thought we were fine.  You laughed at me when I said I fell asleep."  Feeling so insecure suddenly, I whisper, "Are you mad at me Kayla?"  But she just stares at me, looking kind of stunned herself.
  "What is it?!"  I yell at her. 
  Taking my hand again, Kayla murmurs, "keep your head down", as she leads me out of my office.

 
In the bathroom, I again pull away from her. "What?  What's the matter? 
Are
you mad at me?"

  G
od, I hate being touched.  I hate someone gripping my arms. I hate...
touch.

 
Turning me toward the mirror, I gasp.  
What the hell happened to me?
Stunned myself, I whisper, "Wow.  I didn't realize..."
  I am absolutely hideous.  My mascara lies in streaks down my entire face.  My nose is beet-red.  My eyes are so swollen, they look half closed.  My lips are fat and cracked, with one spot actually bleeding.  I look like an assault victim.  I have no color in my face at all.  I look so pale, I'm actually almost bluish-grey.  I’m
so
gross, that it’s kind of funny actually.  Ooops, I feel a giggle bubble up again.  Huh.  Maybe it's the same giggle I suppressed this morning.
  "Wow," I breathe, and start laughing.
  Kayla looks at me so sadly, that I'm instantly defensive.  But before I can speak, she asks, "What happened, Sweetie?  Should we go to the police first, or to the hospital?  I'll take you, and no one will know, I promise..."  The hospital?  Why would we go to the Police?  What is she saying?  "…Sweetie, were you raped?  Or...or just
assaulted?
" She begs.
Raped? 
God, I hate that word!