As Right As Rain

by J. M. Maurer

  I writhe and whimper, all the while wondering what else my boss is planning to do. Thinking it’d be in my best interest to placate him, I decide to stay calm. The instant my muscles loosen, he tilts his head back and lets out a sardonic-sounding laugh.

  “Compliance becomes you, Makayla. You should strive for that more often.”

  I don’t argue and stare intently at the wall.

  “Look at me when I speak to you!” He yanks down on my wrists, secures them with one hand, and finds my breast with other. When I don’t follow his command, he pinches my nipple—hard.

  I shriek, my body curling into his grip, my vision obscured as the sudden twist and tightening of Ed’s fingers elicits a well of tears and an unimaginable amount of pain.

  “I must say how pleased it makes me to know that your tits are real.” He repeats the assault, forcing my watery gaze to his. Then, as if satisfied by my change of behavior, he abruptly releases his clamp. Another surge of pain hits me as blood rushes into the tip. Gently caressing my breast, he adds, “Don’t make me hurt you like that again.”

  I blink back the moisture brimming in my eyes and will myself to remain clam. Aware this could get so much worse, I refrain from spitting in his face, and accept that it’s in my best interest to continue letting Ed think he’s in full control of the situation. Mentally I’m a strong woman and fear rarely comes into play. But physically, I’m no match for this sadistic son of a bitch.

  He returns his free hand to my wrist and secures each one at the side of my hips.

  A prisoner under his weight, I can barely wiggle and my feet are numb. “Ed, please.”

  “Makayla, Makayla. You seem to have forgotten who calls the shots around here. Let me remind you.” He tilts his hips and thrusts his hard length against a spot he has no right to be near. Pressing himself against me, he leans in and returns his cold lips to my ear. “Perhaps it’s my fault this relationship of ours has started off so poorly. Going forward, I’ll do more to make my expectations of you clearer. I would have thought a bright, beautiful woman like you would have already figured this out, but since you seem to require some extra direction, I’ll spell it out. If you were to… let’s just say… bend over my desk and let me fuck you, long and hard and when I want, I’m sure I can misplace the paperwork detailing your mishaps and set your chronic insubordination aside.”

  As Ed pushes his hard length against my crotch, thrusting his hips and grinding his teeth, violent images flicker in and out of my subconscious, bringing me to the realization that I have no scruples about slicing his neck and then watching that dark glint in his eyes evaporate with each gasp of breath.

  A filter slips over my gaze. It’s red, but not from the picture of Ed bleeding out in my imagination—from hatred.

  Fixating on that mental image, I know I need to get away and find a safe place to ease the angry pounding in my head, and erase the vicious fantasies that threaten to make me behave no better than Ed.

  But I’m trapped, and I’m not sure what to do.

  I feel Ed’s weight begin to shift as he slowly pushes off. With him at my side, I relish a small victory as relief ripples across my skin.

  “I can see you need a little time to think this through. You should know I expect my subordinates to be willing and compliant.”

  “And if I’m not?” I barely manage as I wring my wrists and wiggle my toes back to life.

  Ed cocks his head. “We both have things we want, Makayla. For now, I want the makeup I bought you on your face and your beautiful curves stretching a dress. I’m not sure why you haven’t worn any of the three outfits I gave you, even though it’s been a while since I sent you out on an assignment. Tonight I’m giving you the opportunity to make things right.” Ed’s rough fingers find my chin and forcefully redirect my obstinate gaze up to his. “Wear the black leather sheath. Zip it up to exactly where I have it marked. Upon your return, you are to report directly to my office.” He checks his watch and lifts a stony-faced gaze. “Tisk tisk. I’m afraid you’ve gone and made yourself late. Another infraction for you to make up for since I’m sure you know how much I hate it when you’re late. Now go and please me, Makayla. I’ll be watching. And waiting.”

  I bet you will.

  Free of him, I bolt out his door and let loose a string of obscenities the instant my feet hit my office floor. Go and please me. His last command rings in my ears and makes me that much more irate.

  “I’ll get right on that,” I say facetiously. Right after I finish a few important details I need to take care of first.

  As quickly as I can, I toss the dresses Ed has insisted I add to my wardrobe into my bag, and then dip my hand into my jacket pocket to retrieve the mini clip voice-activated audio recorder. Certain I’ve got what I need, I share a copy to a private cloud, stash the recorder in a zippered compartment in my bag, and get to work tapping out an email with unreserved rhythm and purpose. The SOS message I’m generating as I pound the plastic buttons on the keyboard is loud enough to alert the senior meteorologist who’s working in his corner, on the other side of the room.

  Mr. Tagarelli marches to my side and gently places a caring hand on my shoulder.

  I glance up just long enough to register the deep wrinkle between his eyes.

  “Everything okay?” he asks, his tone full of concern.

  I don’t immediately answer. I’m overly focused, locked in on finishing my task. Once done, I shoot off two overdue emails and hop up with abandon from my seat.

  “Getting there.” The two words exit my lips in a hurry as I snatch up my things and then march off toward an elevator.

  This time around, I don’t need to tell myself, “Relax, Makayla. You’ve got this.” Because, wearing my charcoal-gray cashmere wrap dress that in no way flaunts my tits, I know without a doubt that I’ve more than got this.

  “So, Ohio State, Kent State, out-of-state, Defiance College?” I say the last institution of higher education with a tad too much emphasis, mostly because I’m still irate, and also because I’ve already pegged Austin as the intransigent—uncompromising, intractable, stubborn, you name it—type.

  Austin flinches his head back ever so slightly as a blank look slips over his face. “What?”

  My sarcasm travels faster than our van out to location, right up and over his head. I contemplate turning toward the window and easing myself out of this short-lived conversation, but I’m much too eager to ask more questions and find out what’s up with his story. How did he get here? How old can he possibly be? Is he even old enough to have graduated from college?

  He crinkles his brows as if he might actually be pondering my words. “Oh, I’m solid. I don’t need a college degree, if that’s what you’re asking. I finished high school a semester early. That was enough of a prison for me.”

  Every muscle in my body stiffens in disbelief as the epitome of everything I’ve worked so hard against is now sitting right here beside me. In a split second, I realize corporate nepotism is slapping me hard across the face. Without credentials, how else would Austin have landed this job?

  Wanting some answers, I curl my fingers at my sides and lock my sight on Austin’s beady eyes. “Your film portfolio must be amazing. I’ve heard some really good things about magnet schools. Was your high school a magnet for broadcasting and entertainment?”

  He shakes his head.

  Great. My instincts are correct, and I begin to wonder how much worse my situation is going to get.

  “Timing with this job couldn’t have been sweeter,” Austin says. “Did you see that chick the station had doin’ the weather?”

  I reach to scratch my scalp, realizing the instant my fingers slide through my hair that I’m not wearing my hat. Of course, that’s it. He doesn’t know who I am. Come to think of it, I don’t recall Ed saying my name in front of Austin. I snuff out a laugh and inwardly shake my head, thinking I’ll just let Austin believe I’m nothing more than a clueless redhead.

  “Duuude!” He c
rosses his arms and sneers. “How’d you not see that? It went viral. Great. I can’t believe it. Not only am I stuck in Cleveland of all places, but I’m also in it with a floozy.”

  My eyebrows rise so quickly upon my forehead, they practically take my shoulders with them. This is the first time anyone has ever called me a “dude” or a “floozy.” In a strange way, I can’t wait to hear what else is going to come out of this naïve little cube. Wishing I had a bowl of popcorn in my hands, I sit back in my seat. I know it won’t be long before Austin’s bullshit meter blows right on past the red line and catches up with my sarcasm.

  “Wait till Uncle Kemp hears about this.”

  “Uncle Kemp,” I say as more of a statement, pretending I actually care about the conversation.

  He smirks. “Yeah, he said this was the perfect time for me to kick-start my career. That I’d be famous before the end of the year.”

  Oh, dear Austin, hate to break the news here, but even The General said no one gets to know the man behind the camera.

  Leaning back in his seat, Austin takes a moment and flashes the same smug look that seems to be a permanent fixture on his scrawny face. Then he looks up at the roof, appearing to thoroughly worship himself as if he’s just received an Academy Award for Best Cinematography.

  Watching him reflect on the golden Oscar I’m confident he thinks he’s holding in his hands, I know one truth: Austin Ackerman is cockier than a blond-haired politician on crack. Who am I to set him straight? I don’t dare correct him.

  Eventually, he exits his fairytale and throws his smug look at me. “D’you know the last crew Uncle Kemp had doin’ this job?”

  This is the second time in a matter of moments that he’s mentioned this uncle of his.

  I squeeze the back of my neck, feeling a tension headache begin to settle in. “Austin, you speak of your uncle as if I’m supposed to know who he is. Out of all the people on Earth, how am I supposed to know who your uncle is?”

  “You seriously don’t know?” Austin shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “He’s Kempton Ackerman. You know, the guy in the big corner office whose name’s on your paychecks. Dang, thicc ho. Who’d you blow to even score the interview? And don’t say Unc, ’cause that’s fam.”

  Warmth drains from my face as Austin’s last set of words hit me like a roundhouse kick to the gut. Not only has Austin unknowingly confirmed my suspicions about how he got the job, I now know why the name seemed so familiar. Since my paychecks are directly deposited into my bank account, I’ve never actually seen his uncle’s signature on any piece of paper I’ve held in my hands.

  I pull in a deep breath and remove the dazed expression I’m certain is on my face, silently thanking my parents for teaching me the value of knowing when to speak a proper form of English. My efforts don’t seem to work. Austin clearly recognizes I’m shocked, because he smirks again and laughs in my face.

  “Bitch, don’t be so salty.”

  With that, he’s now called me a dude, a floozy, a bitch, and salty. I can deal with those. And even when he called me “thicc,” it didn’t strike a nerve. Sure, I’ve put on some weight since I stopped playing soccer at college. So what if my bottom is blessed with a little extra curve? But a ho? That one I most definitely am not. I roll my eyes and decide to keep quiet.

  “Word of advice,” Austin says, his sharp, egotistical tone piercing my Ed-bruised eardrums. “I know you were assigned to me specifically, but to be blunt on you, you might wanna be lookin’ for another job. You ain’t all that extra and don’t even have a face for a screen. So from here on out, I flex and you bend the knee.”

  Flex? How does one even do that from behind the camera? And why can’t he use normal phrases like I’ll call the shots and you do as I say?

  Whatever. I no longer care. Austin’s not going to intimidate me from either side of the lens.

  I press my lips together, forming a tighter seal than I thought was possible, and with a blink of my eyes, wash away all thoughts of Austin Ackerman, just like a windshield wiper cleans bird poop off a window.

  He’s a piece of shit all right.

  And although it might do some good to let him believe whatever he wants, I’m not about to be a sheep to the dog. I also don’t have it in me to wait for Karma to have her say. I decide to help her out. I can flex—better than Austin—at yet another game.

  Once we arrive and set up on scene, I move through my report without even looking at Austin. At the end of the segment I meet his gaze, flash him a knowing smile, then return my line of sight to the camera. “Reporting live from the Rock n’ Roll Hall of Fame, for WVMZ, and without my signature hat, I’m Makayla Reading.” I wink. “Back to you, Tom and Marilyn.”

  Despite my attempt to one-up Austin, sadness seeps in like a blanket of fog rolling in over a valley. Leaving out my narcissistic cameraman’s name at the end of my sign-off only makes me miss Eli that much more. I sigh, not sure how much more of Austin I can take. Who am I kidding? I’ve already met my limit.

  I cross into his space and raise my clenched fist to within inches of his face. Opening my hand, I let go of the mic and smirk with satisfaction as it falls to the snow at his feet. Based on his wide eyes and unhinged jaw, I discern Austin has finally figured out who I am.

  But I don’t care.

  I don’t give a crap about Austin or his uncle.

  I’m over my job at the station.

  I’m over my cheating ex, Caleb.

  And puleeze… let’s not forget my piece-of-shit excuse of a boss, Mr. Fuck-Me-When-I-Command, Ed Richardson.

  No, they can all kiss my ass goodbye.

  Resolute with my plan, I brush past Austin and knock him off balance when my shoulder hits his.

  “Hey!” Austin seethes, his flaming scowl aimed right at me as I peer over my shoulder at him.

  “Get bent!”

  It’s all I say before I twist back around and quickly make my way to the van. I’m still incensed, and stare through the window out into the darkness as we head back to the station. I wish Eli were at my side, comforting me in the way that only he knows how to do. Somehow, just thinking of him calms my soul.

  I miss him dearly—his soft voice, his tender touch, his heavenly scent, his honey-brown eyes. Oh, how I long for the way he claims me with those eyes. Everything I love and miss reaffirms that what I’m about to do must be done. It may not work. I might go down. Whatever, I’ll take my chances. Because as right as rain, I know our love is more than worth fighting for.

  It’s times like this when I want to pick up the phone, invite a friend over, and dump an entire pint of ice cream down my gullet. Unfortunately, the one person I really want to talk to hasn’t been so chatty lately. Back at my apartment, I flop onto my bed, pick up my phone and press the photo attached to his number. Anxious to hear his voice, I listen to ring after ring until his voicemail picks up.

  As I sit in pained silence from missing him so much, the soft tone of his recorded greeting delivers a welcoming dose of solace. My heart flutters as though a butterfly just took residence deep inside my chest. When his message ends, I’m left wondering what I should say first. After a short pause, I decide it’s now or never. It’s time to speak my thoughts out loud and let him in on everything.

  “Eli. It’s me, Makayla. Sorry for calling so late. I just got home from a pretty terrible evening. I’m thinking it’s about midnight there, and if you get this message, I’d love to hear your voice.”

  I sniffle inadvertently and lift a tissue to dry my eyes. A long pause ensues while I pull myself together.

  “Listen, this might come as a surprise to you since you know I’ve been all about paving my own way, but I quit my job tonight. Ed went ballistic. He said some inexcusable things, pretty much like I knew he would. Long story short, working with him hasn’t been easy, and lately things have gotten out of hand. I slapped him with a sexual harassment lawsuit I don’t think he saw coming. As it turns out, having a legal eagle for a mom can come in pr
etty handy at times. Of course she was livid when I finally determined it was time to solicit her professional advice. I suppose emailing her the details wasn’t the best way to inform any mother of news like this, but you know Ed’s words on promptness; I was pressed for time.”

  And pissed, but I don’t share that detail with Eli. To soothe my dry throat, I draw in a sip of soda that instantly tastes as flat as my mood.

  “Anyway, I suspect what I have on Ed is going to get him fired. He’d be stupid not to resign and find a dark cave to hide in while my mom shreds him and his legal team to pieces. Through all of this, though, and after a lot of soul searching, I realized I didn’t have to move so far away to find myself. I think I’ve always known who I am. And despite how things have been, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. After all, my move to Cleveland led me to you.

  “But without you here, I just don’t want to stay in Cleveland. So I’m moving back home in a few days. I took a teaching position at the University of Oklahoma, and I wanted you to know since I’m hoping we can work out some way to see each other, especially now that we’ll geographically be a lot closer. Oh, and you’ll be happy to know I finally watched Major League. Like at least a hundred times. How pathetic is that?”

  I pause through a sniffle and pat my nose dry.

  “By the way, that librarian took forever to figure out what she wanted. But Eli, it’s not like that for me. I know exactly what I want.”

  What I want is Eli. And I really hope he still wants me, too.

  “I wish you could have been sitting on the couch watching it with me. But as it is, I hope you’re enjoying some warm sunshine in Houston. I miss you, Eli. I hope you’ll call back soon.”

  Since I still can’t say goodbye to him, I place my thumb on the red circle to end the call. A chill charges through my body as I place my phone on my bedside table, and then crawl into bed. If I thought what Caleb did broke me in any way, it’s nothing compared to what I feel with Eli being so far away. This is what a broken heart truly feels like. And my heart shattered into a million unrecognizable pieces the day I watched Eli take off down my hall.