The only positive she got from getting herself drunk last night was that she slept like a log – a very restful sleep – for the first time in a long while. There were no nightmares which made her want to consider knocking her self out with shots of strong alcohol before going to bed every night. But there was the terrible thing about it. It seemed like someone or something was pulling her head apart. Which meant she would have to get prepared to wake every morning with that splitting headache she was feeling right now.
A loud groan escaped her mouth and her fingers dug into her hair frustratingly as she rolled on either side of the bed continually. After a moment, she reached for her phone on the headboard and quickly scanned through it. It hadn't been plug in since yesterday, so she fished out her charger from the drawer and plugged it in. There were about five missed call; two from her Mom, a couple from Anaya and the most
Theresa was just a few stairs away from the living room when she caught the dejected expression of Robert and Sam who were seated, conversing with someone she couldn’t quite get a clear view of. She descended the last stairs and headed into the dinning room where as usual, Margaret was setting up everything for breakfast. Concernedly, she asked about the unfamiliar man in the living room. “Uhm, Margaret?” she called settling into one of the dinning seats as she glanced up at her. “What’s going on?” That countenance Robert had on was certainly enough reason to believe something was wrong. “That man brought news of Robert’s publication house downtown which was destroyed by a fire,” Margaret answered calmly, setting up the plates. Her eyes grew wide slightly. “What caused the fire?” She shrugged. “Well from what I overheard, someone set
After failing to find any aspirins in the first aid kit, she decided to head over to the pharmaceutical down the block. She had successfully cut all ties with Robert Johnson and that is with Sam included. But after he had gone, she was left wishing she could turn the hands of time and take back everything she had said. All that wishful thinking didn't do her any good, punishing her with the sharp ache she felt in her head every now and then. Before going into the pharmaceutical, she took a first stop into the grocery retail outlet where she grabbed a shit load of caffeine, chewy gums and a couple of bags of potato chips. One would think she was planning to stay awake all night to read for an exam or or a work related project. Meanwhile, Theresa was actually planning to stay up all night just because she didn't want to have to go through that frigging moment today. She had even downloaded about five films to occupy her thoughts. &nbs
Concluding that the prickly feeling of being followed was nothing but paranoia, she decided to see a therapist as things seemed to be getting out of control. For the past couple of days, that feeling has been growing like goosebumps on her skin, coupled with the fact that she had been using drugs to stay awake and sometimes drugs to induce sleep. She didn't want all of these to become a habit which is why she was sitting on the sofa of the well furnished office. "Didn't think I would see you again after your last exit, Ms. Gray," the man smiled bringing out a notebook and a pen which he hooked to it. "Didn't think I'd see me here again as well. But I'm losing my mind and maybe this," she motioned to the setting. "This is my last resolve." He shook his head in understanding. "This could only work if you're cooperative. Otherwise, we'll both be wasting our t
The sound of his phone ringing snapped him out of his train of thoughts. He was going to switch off the phone in annoyance but when he saw the I.D, he dragged the green button and placed it on his ear. “Hello?” he finally broke the thirty minute serenity in his office. “Mr. Johnson,” his private investigator said. “I’ve concluded my probe on Simon Tunes.” So soon? The man did say this investigation was going to take quite a while. And although eight days was quite a while, he’d expected a couple of weeks and a few more days. “Okay, go on?” he leaned into his desk. “This isn’t something I can explain over the phone Mr. Johnson. I suggest we meet at the café close to your agency,” he replied in a rather commanding tone which made Robert tsk but agreed anyway. Soon enough, he was in front of the café to see Brumes sitting outside with a brown envelope in hand and the mediu
Chapter Forty SixTwo days later, Theresa was still thinking on everything that happened two nights ago. Simon Tunes really took her by surprise and threw her over the edge. She couldn't come to the only apparent decision, which was heeding to every damn thing he said. She also couldn't risk playing smart with him right now. She was absolutely convicted he would find out and Sam's life was not going to be bait for that little experiment. And the promise to disappear and never show up in her life again? She found it incredibly stupid that she trusted those words, but something about him made her believe Simon Tunes always kept to his words – always. So, he wasn't bluffing.She stood up from the couch which she had been seating in for the last hour and half and began pacing the length of the living room, still in deep thoughts. How was she going to come up with ten thousand in fourteen days?The toaster dinged and the bread popped out. That pulled her out of train
She brought out the black burnt pie from the oven, using her hands to wave off the smoke which had filled the entire place. How did she forget she had a pie baking at 250°? Most importantly, why did she attempt to bake the god damn thing? The only three times Theresa has tried baking, failed. Two came out burnt and the third one was also nothing to write home about. Asides having in common with these times, bad and it failed results, whenever she decided to do that, means she was bothered and worried. Like now. Following Sam's total ignorance, which she deserves, she had been thinking of what to do next which was somewhere along the line of alert the police or tell Simon there was no way she could come up with the money. Somehow, the thought that she could bargain this snuck into her head and it put her to ease. Someone has got to remind her about Simon Tunes.
The plan was to get back to work and after a few days, request for a five month advance payment for a lie she was going to think over later on. Although, what she might receive wouldn't be half of five thousand dollars. She had done a little bit of calculation and found a way to top it up so it could be half that amount at least. Then there was the other plan which was to convince Simon Tunes she was working for the money while thinking of a way to evade all of this without anyone getting hurt. So far, it hadn't come anything close to rational or smart. She didn't want to test him by going against everything he said. It will only end one way; Sam dying. And he was just too much to risk. For the first time in a long while, she felt absolutely fulfilled with her appearance. Thank goodness, she had been able to get some sleep in the past few days. It seemed like the nightmares had stopped since Simon Tunes’ unannounced visi
Following Sam and Theresa's duologue, things between them took another step and elevated to super awkward. Although it has been pretty much quiet between the both of them as they had barely had a conversation unrelated to work in the past couple of days. One thing she knew he was so damn good at, was knowing how to pretend she was non existent. He'd done it before and now, he is doing it again, only that this time, it hurt her more than she could explain.She reminisced over everything he said to her and came to realization that he was right. Maybe it was a little self centered to push him away with the expectation that he would come crawling back to her. She had thought about how things could go back to normal between them. Not just between the both of them, in her life as well. After everything, she had thought normal was far from attainable, but recalling her mother's words to her everytime she had a setback, 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger,' she decided to channel a
As soon as Margaret hung up the phone, Theresa quickly draped her phone and wallet into her pockets stuff before dashing twoards the exit door. Vera had skewered a sketchy look on Theresa all the while she saw her eyes light up in excitement. Not knowing what was going, she equally chased after her. Theresa went over the news with her as she stood on the pedestrian walk waiting for a cab and she offered to give her a ride to the hospital before she ended up boarding a truck going towards that route. All through the fortunately swift and smooth ride, her heart danced in excitement; the feeling of joy pulsated through her veins. She had forgotten all about Maxwell Hart and his ridiculous antics. The only thought coursed through her mind was being in the arms of Sam again.In about half an hour, they arrived at the hospital. Without waiting for Vera to pull the gear of the car back to park, she rushed out of the car and into the hospital, not even thinking about signing it
By the time Theresa got to the hospital, it was less than thirty minutes to the close of vABy the time Theresa arrived at the hospital, it was less than an hour left to the close of visiting hours. When Magaret saw her coming through the hallway, she stood and walked up to her. The stress wrinkles on Theresa’s forehead were very evident and she looked pale, almost like all the blood in her face had drained down to her body.“What happened? You were gone the entire day.” She asked on reaching Theresa. The pair pulled each other into a brief, warm hug.Not wanting to add to the worries of the woman, Theresa lied. “It’s nothing serious. Just stuff with my Mom.”“Is she alright? Is she in the City?”“What?” She didn’t realize that could backfire and she had no response for those questions. Theresa’s hands traveled to her nape as she quickly thought of yet a
“Excuse me?”Theresa was stupefied, simply put. Sure, she knew the drill with detectives having, unfortunately, some may say, gotten acquainted with Detective Vera but this puffed up man in this ridiculously funny suspenders was way out of line, she thought. How on earth was he even thinking along that line? Felony? For what? Accessory to murder? To whom? A wanted man by the law. Maxwell Hart said it himself, he is a wanted man by the police in virtually all districts in New Havens. Why in heaven’s name would she, knowing very well that any connection with such a person spells doom for her? Plus, didn’t he hear what happened? Didn’t this man know she hated everything about Simon Tunes, even more that they are related?“I beg to differ, Mr. Hart and I mean no offense when I say this is highly unreasonable for a man in your position,” Theresa stated matter of factly, trying to maintain her cool despite t
Great! Just great! After the while she had waited to see Sam, it had to be made impossible by these cops and their dumb intuitions. How on Earth does Maxwell Hart thinks she is working with Simon Tunes willingly to see he evades the police? It sounded so irrational and she was surprised it didn't as much, to him. "You really do take the joy out of my life, you know?" Theresa grumbled as she made her way to the police car parked in the hospital parking lot. She looked at her in a frown. "That's not a compliment." "Of course it's not!" Vera opened the doors and Theresa hopped into the car which scented like burgers and fries. Not hard to perceive seeing the couple of burgers packs and half filled milkshake. The detective wind down the vent glass. "I apologise for the mess. I've got to keep my mouth busy during patrols." "Wow. You do patrols now?" Vera passed her a stifled smile. "Not for long." Theresa rolled her eyes to this. She turned
Point of view — Robert JohnsonThat explained everything. It was not a mistake after all. It was James who. . . somehow, managed to get us invited to the award show. It was beyond elating to know that I would be in the same room as the biggest writers and Publicist in the city and states beyond. And of course if we want to fit in, we must also look the part. Which would mean getting a new suit for the occasion. I had only two suits and they were all something in between raggedy and well enough and those weren’t good enough for the award show. I sighed. As James would say, “a small price to pay for salvation.” I made a mental note to contact the seamstress in the weekend. But for now, I had to get ready for the first day at my new job. First official day, I mean. Other than the very unnecessary physical interview and the tour around the office, I had very little work to do yesterday. And that work was only to make copies of documents for my new colleagues
Point of view — Robert JohnsonThat explained everything. It was not a mistake after all. It was James who. . . somehow, managed to get us an invite to the Writhe of Writers Awards show. It was beyond elating to know that I would be in the same room with the biggest writers and Publicists in the city, and states beyond. And of course if we want to fit in, we must also look the part. Which would mean getting a new suit for the occasion. I had only two suits and they were both something in between raggedy and well enough; those weren’t good enough for the award showI sighed. As James would say, “a small price to pay for salvation.” I made a mental note to contact the seamstress in the weekend. But for now, I had to get ready for the first day at my new job. First official day, I mean. Other than the very unnecessary physical interview and the tour around the office, I had very little work to do yesterday. And that work was only to make copies of docu
Point of view — Robert JohnsonThat explained everything. It was not a mistake after all. It was James who. . . somehow, managed to get us an invite to the Writhe of Writers Awards show. It was beyond elating to know that I would be in the same room with the biggest writers and Publicists in the city, and states beyond. And of course if we want to fit in, we must also look the part. Which would mean getting a new suit for the occasion. I had only two suits and they were both something in between raggedy and well enough; those weren’t good enough for the award showI sighed. As James would say, “a small price to pay for salvation.” I made a mental note to contact the seamstress in the weekend. But for now, I had to get ready for the first day at my new job. First official day, I mean. Other than the very unnecessary physical interview and the tour around the office, I had very little work to do yesterday. And that work was only to make copies of docu
Point of view — Robert JohnsonI huffed out after Mr. Jill’s angry stomp away. He was to going to be even angrier when I have to bargain with him on Thursday, to extend the deadline. I didn’t think it was going to be a problem because, well, it was never. So, I waved off his threats. It was nothing new.I took the remaining stairs to the seventh floor, lucky me. For the past week or so, the elevators has been out of order. Heaven knows what went wrong with it, but something did and it had suddenly stopped functioning. A lot of people has been on the management to fix it but nothing. Some of us, especially the occupants of the first few floors, had taken the piss and gotten used to making that walk through the staircase everyday. But for those whose apartment was situated on the tenth floor, thirteenth floor, they were never going to stop complaining, rightly so.As I approached the last stairs, I noticed Samantha, the daughter of a couple
Point of View — Robert Johnson.The name resonated so well with me, not because he was going to be my supposed boss, but strictly because he had made it as clear as mud, on not one but multiple occasions that his daughter is and will never be with a “low life” like me. It was one thing that he knew an interest, from my end had sufficed for his daughter. And it was another thing entirely that I had pursued that interest and dare I say, I had won her over.How did I not know that I was applying for a job to a media agency owned by him? No. Of course I didn’t. I would stay as far away from him as possible considering he had only to snap his finger and my entire life could go down the drain. Was it bizarre that I wanted to be like that? To snap my fingers and command circumstance? Effect changes? Control associations? Okay, not the last one. I could never. But still, it’ll be nice to know I could.Back to the job situation, I had looked