Saturday 20 August 2011

"Everyone is a millionaire where promises are concerned." ~Ovid.

I am not taking over your life.

He's walking in slow circles around me as I sit at his desk in the near-darkness and rock gently in the big leather chair.

I open my hands, palms up, in a gesture of total helplessness and then let them fall back into my lap. I don't think it would matter if I had any words, at this point he knows how I feel.

They're as secure as ever. Maybe moreso because I don't run my affairs as..mercurially as you all seem to. That's a direct reference to Caleb.

There is no competition here. Again, he keeps letting these statements hit their marks and I haven't argued and he has ever last concern itemized. As usual he is one step ahead, always.

There is nothing in this for me, save for your well-being.

Oh, now, NOW I'm getting really fucking sick of everyone's new favorite tag line.

BULLSHIT.

He stops and begins to laugh.

Sorry, I had to say that. I hear it so often. It drives me crazy.

It's my turn to be surprised now. Then truth, Batman (I don't call him Batman, except for your benefit, dear reader).

I want to know if you are satisfied.

Satisfied? With what?

The first month.

Yes.

Payroll alright?

Yes.

You organized the health plans?

Yes.

Life Insurance?

As we speak.

Any problems?

I will let you know.

Please do. If you have any questions I am here for you.

What's in it for you?

Recognizing talent when I see it, realizing that Caleb no longer had my interests at heart and it seemed like the best time to strike, with the dissolution of the company. Early bird gets the worm, Bridget.

You're trying too hard to convince me and you've come in heavy.

He's gotten too close to you and everyone is worried.

He is Henry's father, therefore we have a partnership in parenting. Nothing more.

Maybe I'm not as easy to fool.

Nothing more.

Bridget, you're lying to me.

It's none of your business.

I made a promise. And I made one to you as well.

I'm not taking your offer.

Ah, my offer. You are a singular wonder, Bridget. And I really wish you would tell me what keeps you tied to him.

I did. Henry. I say it softly. He shakes his head. He is frustrated and pacing faster.

Do they know?

Some do?

Which ones?

I need to go. I have plans.

I stand up and pull out my phone. Batman makes a sound that could pass for a note of surprise or a forced burst of laughter and then he slams his palms down on the desk in front of me and I jump out of my skin.

Are you going to summon your driver, Bridget? You've got quite the track record of walking out on every conversation you've ever had. I gave you the time limit, you failed to produce and I'm busy trying to keep an escape route open for you and those you love. His voice breaks slightly and he clears his throat forcefully to cover. This isn't easy and it's not helping that I don't have all the facts. I'm fighting blind, princess. You asked for help and I'm trying to help you but I can't because I don't know what I'm up against. All I know is that Cole didn't want you so close to Caleb and no one else seems to either. You seem afraid, but afraid of what? I can help you but you have to tell me everything.

It's late. I'm leaving now. I'm so defeated. I turn and embrace him automatically. I smell his aftershave and realize he wears Attitude. The same one that Caleb wears during the day. I want to laugh but instead I just wrap my arms around his shoulders and squeeze and then I let go and walk out. He remains in place, holding his arms out as if to beckon my return. I can see his reflection in the mirrors as I walk toward the elevator. No driver tonight, I'm not going very far. Just four blocks down, closer to the water, to the glass apartment with the piano. Caleb has been sending me text messages all afternoon and evening. His proposal is ready and he will be waiting whenever I can slip away.