by Maya Daniels
Before I have a chance to even open my mouth to object, he opens the door, walks out, and as he is closing it, I hear him mumble, “Let’s hope he likes smart women that have no fashion sense.”
That shuts me up before I even say anything. What was that all about? What is wrong with these people? I wonder angrily. It’s not like we’re a fashion magazine or a place where you need women like Lidia to have more makeup than personality. It’s a freaking research company! I don’t know if they think they’re getting to me with these remarks or hope I start dressing differently. They’re out of luck on both. I had a time when I wanted to look pretty with my makeup and hair done, dressed in clothing that was trendy and showing legs, arms etc. A lot of good that did for me, I think gloomily.
Honestly, this day can’t get more depressing.
Chapter 2
Shaking my head to clear out my thoughts, I sigh like I have the planet sitting on my chest. For someone who has dedicated their life to quantum physics, energies and frequencies, I sure as hell don’t practice what I preach. If I’m to survive the day without a nervous breakdown, I need to get my shit together.
I get up and walk towards the small Areca palm in the corner of my office. Everyone thinks I have it because I wanted to add something green to the office to make it homier, but my reason for this plant is more selfish than that. Kneeling beside it, I place my hands around the flowerpot, close my eyes, and slow my breath. Inhaling deeply, I the energy crawls up my arms like a lover’s fingers. The sounds fade away as I exhale, releasing the energy only to my heart, then inhaling again, I feel the serpent creep up like a wave of heat through my back. After a few more deep breaths, the palms of my hands pulse like they have their own heart in the center. The plant responds, palpitating its own energy towards me.
“I love you,” I whisper to it. “I am forever grateful for your help and nurturing. Only you can understand me.”
As I whisper things to my green friend like one would to a lover, I sense its essence enter my hands and spread through my body. Slowly, my inner peace comes back, my heartbeat evening out while the anxiety threatening to curse me disappears. After few more breaths, I open my eyes and smile at the palm.
“Thank you, my friend. You are looking more beautiful every day.”
I say this with a lot of gratitude and reverence as I have been taught my whole life. Sadness for my grandmother tries to sneak into my heart, but I push it away. I need to remain calm if I am to meet with this investor Philip was talking about. As I’m getting up, there is a knock on my door and Lidia walks in like she owns the place.
“Talking to your plant again?” she mocks. “You’re as weird as you are plain, you know that? No wonder you’re single at your age.”
She speaks of age like it’s some sort of disease. So, I’m thirty-nine and single. What’s wrong with that? I want to laugh all of a sudden and she must’ve seen it on my face because she continues without taking a breath. “It was a rhetorical question!”
Crossing my arms like my grandmother used to when she was displeased with me—which was often—I silently look at her, waiting to hear why she’s here. We stare at each other for few seconds and I can’t take it anymore. I want her to leave.
“You’re here because...?” I prod.
With her eyes still on me and with, venom stabbing from her eyes, she steps forward, throwing an envelope at my chest. Lucky enough, my arms unfold on instinct, catching it.
“This was delivered to you this morning,” she says.
“Why didn’t you give it to me when I walked in?” I ask suspiciously, eyeing her warily.
I really don’t know why she hates me so much. Making it a habit to steer clear of her, I hardly ever talk to her, and have made it my mission to never be in the break room when she is. With her long wavy blonde hair, blue eyes, and full pouty lips, she was a walking Barbie doll. I do look like a mouse standing next to her, I think to myself.
“I’m not your assistant or your secretary, so I didn’t have to do this. You’re lucky the guy delivering it was cute, otherwise you would’ve been out of luck on this one.”
She turns around on her six-inch stilettos and sashays out of my office like she’s on a runway. After she closes the door, it takes me a bit to stop staring at the door. Am I in a dream or something? Moving my legs one in front of the other towards my desk feeling like I’m living in a movie, a tragic comedy at that, I can’t help but wonder. My desk is old, like the one my teacher had when I was in primary school. It just proves they weren’t really prepared to add a new research department when they placed the ad for the job. Maybe I need to ask about that, since I do need more space so I don’t spread the books and notes all around the floor while I’m working, but that can wait. There are more important things I need. Like the Schumann resonance machine. Obviously today’s meeting is a good thing, after all. This perks me up a bit.
Sitting down, I look at the envelope. It’s quality-made, thick paper with my name written on it in beautiful and elegant penmanship. I admire it with a smile. It’s almost impossible these days to see that. Everything is typed on a computer, printed, and sent. Impersonal, cold, mechanical. There are no more connection, closeness, or emotions among people. It hurts my heart that we have pushed ourselves to this point where we act more like machines than living beings that crave closeness or need a soft touch from time to time. Releasing a deep sigh with one more look at “Ms. Semiramis,” I pick up the letter opener and gently pull on it. Even the sound of the paper ripping is beautiful. I drop the letter opener on the desk and pull out a rectangular piece of paper with the same penmanship on it.
“They know who you are. They are afraid of your power. Be careful!”
My entire body gets covered with goosebumps and the blood freezes in my veins. Who on earth are they? And my power? What power? I get hit with a million questions at the same time, making me dizzy. My heart is in my throat, my hands are shaking, and I think I’m going to start hyperventilating again. I look at the piece of paper that fell from my numb fingers onto the desk, and as shaken as I am, I stare at it as if it’ll start talking to me and explain what this craziness is. As I’m looking at it, I realize there are scrolls and markings making a border all around. Four black roses at each corner catch my eye, and like a switch has been thrown, my heart slows down and my hands stop shaking. There is something familiar about it, almost as if I’ve seen it before. But where? I pick it up and inspect it closely. The scrolls that connect each rose at first glance look like simple twisting vines, but the more I look at them, it’s like they’re changing shape in front of my eyes until they look like letters. I’ve never seen this language before and my curiosity excites me.
I’ve always had this fascination with old languages, and this looks like an ancient one. Then I remember. I’ve seen it, but not in real life. In one of my meditations, when I thought it was a useless attempt because my mind was wandering from one thought to another, so I kind of drifted off to a light sleep. It was ten, maybe fifteen minutes, no more than that, and as I woke up from it, while my eyes were still closed, I remembered clearly seeing dark skies full of stars, like I was floating in space and a very bright golden circle was in front of me. The circle was spinning clockwise and as it was picking up speed, letters I’d never seen before appeared and disappeared on it—the same letters I am seeing on this note.
The more I tried to look at the circle so I could remember the letters, the more elusive it became, then my eyes opened on their own like someone pulled on my lids. I remember thinking it was like I had intruded on something I wasn’t meant to see, and I remembered laughing at myself at how stupid that sounded.
Well, it doesn’t sound so stupid now, does it? The opening of the door is so sudden that, without thinking, I grab the note and scrunch it in my hand while looking to see who walks in. Philip looks at me with squinting eyes, like he caught me stealing a cookie from his cookie jar.
“Note from your boyfriend, Al?” h
e says it teasingly, but those eyes are staring daggers at me. There is no joking there.
Rolling my eyes at him, I open my desk drawer and shove the note under all the candy bars and chocolates. What? Don’t judge a girl! I need my chocolate fix when I’m working. It helps me think better. Pushing the drawer closed, I turn my eyes to Philip, who is standing in the doorway with one foot in and one foot out of my office.
“How can I help you, Mr. Stamelos? You know you don’t have to walk here to tell me anything, right?” I say, looking pointedly at the phone sitting like a decoration on my desk. Not that you can really see it with all the papers covering it.
“I came to tell you to bring the presentation papers you showed at the board meeting last month with you. I was told that the investor wants to see them.” His words are professional, cold and clipped, but he’s still looking at me like he wants to shake me so I’ll tell him what the note is. I don’t understand why he loves making my life miserable. I come to work, I do my job—actually I do more than what I’m paid for, but that’s on me, not him. I make sure I show respect for him as my boss, but from day one, he’s been acting like I killed his pet or something.
“You still with me, Al, or are you checking the frequencies in your brain?”
His voice gets me out of my musings. I’ve been doing a lot of that today, haven’t I?
“Yes, I heard you, and I’ll bring them. It’s very important to me that he invests in this, I assure you! Besides, I’ve been working on this for a lot longer than I’ve worked at this company. I can recite it in my sleep without the presentation. Now if that’s all, I have work to do.” Looking at my laptop, I think he gets the message to leave.
Opening my mailbox and checking the emails that have piled up—you have to love junk mail—I almost jump out of my skin when the door slams so hard one of the paintings on the wall rattles. Letting out a deep breath, I go and straighten it. I need to talk to him about what the problem is, but not today. Every day I say the same thing, but I know eventually I’ll put my big girl panties on and do it.
Hours pass before I hear a soft knock on my door. “Come in.”
I recognize the knock. As the door opens, I lift my head and smile as Daisy pokes her head in, beaming at me. “Ready for lunch, love?”
“Is it lunch already?” I ask as I leap out of my chair, making poor Daisy jump back a little. “Oh, dear mother, it’s lunch time! I have a meeting in an hour with an investor. Great, now Philip will think I did this on purpose!”
Blabbing around, talking more to myself than Daisy, I push papers around, looking for the folder I’m sure is under here somewhere. Panic grips my heart. It’s nowhere to be found.
Daisy walks in carrying a Tupperware container in her hand, her lips lifting at the corners triumphantly.
“Don’t smile there, help me find it! It’s a green folder about five inches thick. I know I left it on the desk. I was actually looking at it yesterday.”
Talking and searching at the same time, I don’t even look at her. She walks up next to me and grabs my arm. For an older woman, she sure has a good grip, which makes me stop shifting papers from one side of the desk to the other.
“What?” I look at her and she’s beaming at me. “There’s nothing funny! I promise it’s the presentation of the project,” I solemnly say to her.
“I brought lunch with me because you always do this, and you need to eat. You can’t live on air and coffee, you know.” She shakes the Tupperware in my face, chuckling.
“I don’t have time to e—”
“Enough!” she cuts me off and I shut my mouth midsentence, a reaction I always had when my grandmother would scold me. “Sit and eat. While you do that, I will look for the folder.”
She opens the container and the smell of the food makes my stomach growl so loud one may think there’s a hungry wolf hiding under the desk. Daisy chuckles under her breath while searching and I lower my eyes. I feel like a child, not a grown woman. What’s wrong with me?
“You fight who you are; that’s what’s wrong with you,” a husky voice full of sadness says.
“Excuse me?” My head jerks up and I stare at Daisy. She looks at me with concern.
“I didn’t say anything. Are you okay?”
Searching her eyes, all I find is honesty and concern, and fear grips my heart. That’s the second time today I hear the same voice—the voice that brings back so many painful memories. Daisy is still looking at me with her sad blue eyes. I give her a small smile to put her at ease.
“Oh, never mind. With all the pressure on me lately, I’m hearing things.” I laugh at my own joke, hoping she’ll buy it and not continue to prod. I turn towards the delicious food she set in front of me. The salad smells fresh, making my mouth water.
“I’m assuming these are from your garden, huh? I haven’t found any from the stores that smell like this, like heaven!” Taking a mouthful, I start chewing and glance up at her. She’s still watching me and hasn’t moved. I’m guessing it’s from pity, because she chooses to let my slip up go.
“Yes, I got quite fortunate this year. I’ve never had that many veggies—and quite large too—in my life and I’ve had my garden ever since I moved into the house.” She turns around and continues searching. “It’s a good year for sure. I’ll be able to put some in the freezer for the winter, too, and make some vegetable spreads for canning.”
I’m not even aware that I finish the salad when I hear her exclaim, “Ah! Here it is!” She holds the green folder in her hand. My shoulders relax as I take a deep breath.
“Thank you!” I’m hoping she can tell the gratitude in my voice.
“You’re more than welcome, dear. I know you’re alone here, just like I am now, and you are like family to me. From the first day I saw you, I could see your heart in your eyes. Your light shines so bright that it took my breath away. I knew that moment you and I would be good friends.” Unshed tears shine in her eyes and, without thinking, I get up and give her a hug.
“Thank you, Daisy. You’re my only family here and I’m very grateful for you,” I whisper reverently.
“And I for you, love, and I for you.” She strokes my back up and down like she’s trying to calm a child, and that’s exactly how I feel right now.
The clearing of a throat makes me release Daisy reluctantly. I turn around to see Philip leaning on his shoulder at the door, his arms crossed at his chest, looking at us with a softness I’ve never seen in him before. My surprise must have shown on my face because he shakes his head and laughs. “I’m not the monster you make me out to be, Ms. Semiramis,” he drawls.
“Said the wolf to Red Riding hood before he ate her,” I mumble under my breath.
Daisy laughs at my silliness. Looking up, I see something flash in Philip’s eyes like he hears me, but too fast it is gone, and it makes me think maybe I am imagining things again. The door is too far from the desk for him to hear what I said.
“You’re here for the third time today because?”
“The meeting,” he says simply, looking at me with guarded eyes.
“Oh, right! I was going to head towards your office in a second. I don’t need to be escorted. I know where it is.” Annoyance could be heard clearly in my tone.
“Change of plans. We’re meeting him at a restaurant for lunch, and before you go for my throat, just know I’m not happy about it either. I have a lot of work to do today instead of driving around town for your project.” The word project is said as a foul thing and it grinds on my nerves.
“I didn’t say anything. If we have to go to lunch, we’ll go to lunch. This investment is important to me,” I say with as much calm as I can muster.
“Okay, I’m off to my office while you two go do your thing. Good luck!” Daisy smiles as she picks up the Tupperware from my desk and walks out, leaving us still staring at each other.
I grab the folder, my purse, and my phone, pushing the laptop closed as I head towards the door. When I stand in front o
f him, he doesn’t move an inch, still stock still staring at me like the lab rat I am to him.
“Are we going or there is something else we need to discuss before we head out?” My voice breaks the silence, and like waking up from a dream, he shakes his head, clears his throat, and turns around, walking out of my office.
He really is a strange man, I think to myself as I close the office door and follow him towards the parking lot.
Chapter 3
“Table for three under Stamelos. Our party may already be here,” Philip says to the hostess, who’s checking him out and batting her fake eyelashes like she will take flight at any moment.
I’m taken aback by my snide thought. It doesn’t matter that it’s only internal dialogue. It’s so unlike me that I want to slap myself. Why do I care what she looks like and if she’s checking out my boss? It’s not like I look at him as a man. He’s my boss, and I have no interest in men any more anyway.
“Mhm, sure. You don’t see the nice sculpted muscles under the shirt, or when he sits down, his thick thighs stretching the fabric to its limit? Or those brown eyes with all the storms hidden beneath the calm?” purrs a husky voice in my head.
I panic but I have no time for this right now. I need to be calm. “You’re losing your mind, Al,” I say to myself out loud just to shut the voice down.