The office always carried this subtle, yet almost suffocatingly artificial smell every time it had been cleaned despite how cool the air seemed to be as it brushed against my exposed skin reminding me of my choice of clothing-some short-sleeved cotton turtleneck which was clinging to my waist quite tightly. And tugged into a loose-fitting checkered grey skirt that, at least, didn't reach past my ankles and hide my shoes. My hair on the other hand was far from loose and I had done my best to keep it tied on top of my head, which hadn't been fun to detangle that morning even more and hence why I had missed breakfast.
The only thing that had met my lips were two cups of tea because caffeine made me jittery anyway and I had gotten some rest the night before, at least better than the other nights. I guess it had everything to do with the fact that I had something to occupy my mind with, my job, and it helped weigh down almost all the things I didn't want to get into when I was by myself.
I was sure, though, that being surrounded by people wasn't going to help either and I wasn't any better with these things even with my family, I doubted a stranger was to put me at ease–I preferred forgetting. My past was just that–mine. And that chapter was closed, entirely, even if I sometimes cried myself to sleep because the wave of sadness that often liked to cling unto me has hit and hard, I was okay with this.
I was okay.
I didn't need people being in my business trying to mend me or worrying over every little thing as if I could shatter any moment. There was no difference or at least to me it was the same, I was still there and breathing despite everything–there had to be no room for more. Work was work and so I abandoned the mess in my head and returned down to earth to meet a pair of concerned eyes.
I turned my eyes away and decided to pour him a glass of water and handed it to him before he could, possibly, mention anything about what he thought he was seeing–I was fine. I had gone to lunch with him and was finding it easier to share my thoughts with him, though I made sure I didn't cross a line because he was choosing to value my option or thoughts as an employee, which was uncalled for and so was concerning himself about me.
I watched him as he picked up the glass and almost gulped down almost all of the water. Yeah, I wasn't even supposed to be watching that way and really, it wasn't like I was doing so. He was just one of those people who made something as simple as quenching his thirst worth noting and my eyes had been wondering about curiously as of late, lingering on beautiful things that were non of my business, unfortunately, maybe it was the fact that I had been sleeping well and therefore had been too busy for television shows or just not that interested-my lonely mind was beginning to play a silly game with me. And I was just not a fan of it.
I was an adult, grown enough to not even be bothered by certain things and yet, quite immaturely so, which some part of me felt so stupid and ashamed for, I always found myself marveling over most of what Nicholas was always so uncertain of what to say around him and his brother, unfortunately.
My mind was messy enough and my thoughts were far from clean either, though I kept telling myself it was just me being unfair on myself as always. I was lonely, lonelier than any words could describe, and deep Inside myself I felt empty-I ignored it. I always ignored certain things but somehow being surrounded by other people, that office, and getting to know these people more sort of immediately held weight. So, one could only imagine what a lonely mind could do to entertainment or what I did, I felt some kind of guilt and was so confused at the same time because some part of me was okay with it.
I guess this was a natural reaction to being around people who seemingly weren't judging me and I got it Nicholas was my 'boss' and wasn't required to be that close with me, but he did that with his employees and preferred getting to know the people that worked for him. Nicholas was relatively nice, from what I had seen so far, though I was sure the heaviness of his sharp eyes said enough for me to understand he had his limits and lines–I planned on staying beyond the fence.
I liked his eyes, but not most of the time, they held heavy secrets and were sometimes, if not most of the time, strong. Maybe it ran in the family, but those brown eyes, despite how dauntingly heavy they were and even though they felt as if they could cut right into my soul, made me comfortable as if whatever clouded them I sort of related to it. Beneath their heavy, and annoyingly intense, stare I found myself feeling something close to understood, at least that was what I got from them-what I read. What I felt.
Again though, lonely was my mind and only searching for something that was to keep me from going there could pretend my head didn't bring up stupid thoughts, once in a while, that made me feel so miserable. Maybe it was because I felt like an utter failure and was forcing myself to believe otherwise. Everything was like this to me and I wished I could be nice about it, but I couldn't help myself-I coped like this. Feeling awful and lying about being okay kept me sane, everything else either made me feel embarrassed or wouldn't let me forget what I honestly would rather not have to carry.
I parted my mouth first. "Migraines?"
"They'll. . .go away, eventually."
I didn't need to be in his business, but I found I had, perhaps, crossed a line with this when I had snatched his pills away, and really, he only let me because he didn't want me going around saying he was an addict or something. "Ever seen a specialist about these migraines."
"Doctors can only prescribe sleeping pills. . .and painkillers," he said, calmly, "and not ones that make it easier for me to stop thinking."
His brown eyes met mine as if he was awaiting another question and in this case, I did, but I decided to make it less 'heavy' just so whatever answer he has already prepared for me in his head could be to no use. "What are you going to do if they want more money?"
"Than I've already offered?" His brow lifted.
I nodded. "Yes."
"I'm desperate." Both of his hands found his hair.
I watched him as he loosened his tie, tilting his head to the side as he did. "They are."
He stared at me with his head tilted. "They seemed. . .adamant."
"I was there. . .remember." I didn't mean to roll my eyes but I ended up doing so. "They were. . .the son needs the money."
"I've never been patient nor good at. . .begging."
I tilted my head to the side slightly. "We hold family to a high standard, even if we shouldn't."
"I'm not good with people and I hate being desperate," he stated, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh.
"They need the money. . .or at least the son does." This got his attention as he lifted his face from his palms. "I feel sorry for them."
"Why?" Nicholas looked at me as if he had just discovered I had wings or something.
My eyes were probably round as saucers. "Did you see his eyes? He'll probably dump them at some retirement home."
"Is this the part where you convince me not to buy it?" He leaned in close and his eyes went straight through mine as he awaited his answer.
Truly, some part of me preached for me to admit that he had caught me, that again he was right, but some petty side of me refused it and instead clung on to my pride.
I hated him being right, that sort of got under my skin and perhaps, somewhere there I was well aware he was perfectly okay with it.
I was the one who hated it. "Why would I?"
"You pointed it out, you said you were sorry for them." There was a slight twitch to the corner of his lips.
"And nothing else." I wasn't soft and was not going to let anyone see it.
"How do you propose we proceed then?" He carried these words so Iightly as if they didn't hold any weight and as if they held no meaning behind them–as if he wasn't trying to figure me out.
"Why would you leave it to me?" I furrowed my eyebrows as I leaned into the comfortable chair. "I'm just an assistant."
"Meaning what? That I ignore your opinion and proceed in the way I see fit? I have pride but. . .I'm not foolish."
"I'm not saying that–"
"I'm still waiting." He closed his eyes as he rubbed his temples.
I sighed. "Offer them more money."