Sam let out a rile sigh. Why now? Charles was the manager of the auto mechanic garage who took appropriate care of anything and everything that goes wrong in their cars. After he had put a few calls through to him the day before, Charles claimed his schedule was occupied for the next two days but promised to come by the weekend. Yesterday he had expected him, he didn’t show up and today, when he had forgotten he even sent for him, he shows up. Just when he was in the middle of something. He groaned out, exchanging looks with Theresa whose cheek had become pink. It was apparent she was embarrassed Margaret had caught them making out. Something he couldn’t care less about. A cheeky smile tugged at his lips as he watched her button her shirt all the way to the top. And he gave her a ‘this isn’t over’ look before following Margaret down to the living room where Charles sat patiently, awaiting him.
“Charles.” He called unethusiastically o
A month later... Sam was in the agency going through the just printed Cloud newspaper for the next day. He had taken over as the director at the agency and still managed to keep up with his work as the head Publicist despite Margaret's advice to promote one of the publicist in the agency or employ a new one to relieve himself of that much work. He would always tell her that he'll take it into consideration, but in the end, he would do nothing about it. He used work to cloud his thoughts from everything that had occured in the past month. And well, it somehow helped. He was working late again when his phone rang. Without glancing to see the call ID, he reached for the phone in the drawer, from where he had dumped it earlier and placed the phone on his ear, cradling it between his chin and shoulder as he waited for the caller to speak. "Goo
Sam looked up from the monitor to see his assistant come in with a latte in hand and a news paper in the other. "Here is today's Cloud newspaper sir," she said, leaving it on the desk, as well as the decaf latte. She flipped open her notepad and began to read out his schedule for the day. ". . . and you have a lunch meeting with Louise Sanders at two to discuss the publication of the last book in her trilogy," she finished, hooking the pen to the notepad. Sam nodded. "I'll speak with Louise Sanders in the early hours of the evening. So, postpone the interview till then." She nodded and quickly scribbled it down on the notepad. "Anything else?" "No," he answered. "Thank you, Emilia." And she exited the office. He sighed. He has been awaiting that lat
Then, her face rested on the ‘distraction’ in front of her. After last Saturday, she’d done well to avoid any conversation pertaining to what had happened. And thank goodness, Sam hadn’t brought it up. They were fine, things were great between them. When Margaret had confronted her about it, whilst they were watering the flowers in the garden, Theresa couldn’t hide the colour that formed on her face as she recalled how his mouth devouring hers hungrily and Sam, pinning her hand to the back, taking charge of that situation right then. Unfailingly, Margaret noticed this. But she resigned to just seat on the sidelines and watch how things evolve. Maybe this time, Theresa would get a strong hold of Sam and he wouldn’t bolt like always. His eyes glinted as he smiled at her, before walking into her office, while Theresa closed the door behind him. “Where were you off to just now?” Sam asked, leaning into her desk.
Sam was still leaning on her desk, smiling to himself. He glanced at his wrist watch. Since she left now, it wouldn’t take her more than fifteen minutes to get to the city’s capital. At most, twenty if there’s any hitch on the road. He tucked his hands into his pocket, standing upright. He wandered to the window side and drew back the curtain. Quick enough to see her board a cab. As usual, she had gone with a photographer. He smiled to himself again, recalling the first time he heard her name in the house. It was that Saturday after the award show. He overheard Robert informing Margaret that he’ll be expecting a guest that morning, by name, Theresa Gray. Something had come up with the Cloud papers that morning so he had rushed out to the agency before she arrived. Well, it would have been a shame if he hadn’t been around to see her in the house and she didn’t accept Robert’s contract and job offer. That would mean he probably wouldn’t have
Theresa typed in the last word of the article and saved it. A sigh of relief escaped her mouth as she rested into her seat. After the speech at the city’s capital she had to go on to the small commotion that had come about as a result of the Mayor’s speech. So, he didn’t deny his statement but blatantly accepted it placating that the people were of their opine. This caused an upset and there were a group of people who demanded he drop out of the coming elections. She had followed up the small protest closely before it resulted into a violent backlash just in time for her to take to her heels. Quite a story she had to write on that one. And she had only just finished. She leaned forward again and quickly sent it to the editor before her intercom buzzed. She pushed down the button and said into the receiver, “I’ve sent it already,” before putting it off. Phew. She mentally wiped sweat from her forehead. Another day successfully completed. Ju
Her reflection on the mirror was more or less how her life was at the moment. Everything seemed to have become bleak. Still trying to date the day things went west, she was standing in front of the seven inch mirror wearing a black bra and a pair of blue jeans. Her hair which had just been blow dried, her lean body, her pale white skin – her head tilted sideways, to the left and to the right as her eyes scrutinized her body. Not only did she look different, she felt different. Her fingers trailed her stomach to her side; to the scar left by the bullet that was taken out. Turns out, leaving Robert's house did not stop those nightmares. They kept happening anytime and every time her eyes fluttered close, even for just a moment. She was always reliving the moment her entire life flashed in front of her; the pistol that was pointed to her face making her entire body tremble for fear that any moment, the trigger will be pulled, and when she was shot, the bullet that pierced
Her last stop was a bar downtown. Theresa found herself feeling more forlorn than ever seated on the stool behind the counter. Now, she was officially out of job. Mentally, she calculated about how tiring it might be as soon, she would have to go in search of another job if she didn't want to get kicked out of her apartment. After she had left Havens Cloud, she had spent what was almost ten minutes outside Havens Cloud thinking of how to go about the rest of the day. Going home was not an option. Not when there was a ninety nine point nine percent chance she would fall asleep and it would happen again.As much as her solitude would feel her with so much comfort, doing that was inviting free roaming of the hundred and one thoughts about everything that happened. To top it, this 'thing' with Sam. Off the top of her head, she prayed she didn't hit a nerve with everything she let out but within her, she hoped to get him upset. She thought it was unfair that on
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
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