Page 2 of Living with Fire
“You can explain? How exactly do you explain your dick in some other woman?” I sneer, surprising myself. I should know better than to provoke him. I know what can happen when you upset someone, or embarrass them, especially in a public place. Clearly anger is winning over good judgement, though.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Preston tries again, but even he cringes as the words leave his mouth, knowing how ridiculous they sound. “Okay, it is what it looks like. But it doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like I’ve taken her out on a date, like you.”
“Wait. Preston, you’ve taken her out on a date?!” Britney, the intern, says from behind him, causing Preston to jump at the sound of her voice.
“Brit, look, you’re fabulous, but…”
Turning on my heel, I make my way briskly to my desk and start tossing my belongings into a pile. In the six months I’ve been here I’ve only brought in a few things, but it’s enough that I won’t be able to carry everything in my hands. I’m not sure if I decided to quit the moment I walked in on Preston and Britney, or if it happened during the short exchange in the hallway, but I know I can’t stay.
I’m not happy here, and damn it, I came to California to try and find happiness, or at least get away from unhappiness. I’m an accountant by trade, but when I settled in Santa Rosé this was the first job I could find. Considering that to practice as an accountant in California I would have needed to pass an exam and apply for licensing that would be public record, I opted to find something else. I was told if I were good at advising, it would pay me well. Turns out I am good at it, but the competitive nature, and the people that work here, just don’t fit what I want in my life. I’ve wasted so many years already, and now I’ve spent six months in a job that I don’t like. It’s time I confront that and move on.
“Savanna, look, I’m sorry. Tell me what I can do to fix this,” Preston says, and I look up from my desk drawer to find him staring at me, an arm slung over the top of the cubicle. He’s trying to be smooth and suave, but instead looks slimy.
What did I ever see in him? How did I ever find him attractive? Maybe I didn’t. Maybe it’s like when you’re in a desert and dehydrated. Maybe I was so dehydrated of human contact that I saw Preston as a type of mirage. I envisioned him to look better than he was.
“You can’t. I quit.”
“What?!” he screeches, and I feel everyone in the office tuning into what’s happening. “You can’t quit!”
I don’t spare him a glance as I open the bottom drawer in my desk and pull out a stash of Sour Patch Kids. “I just did.”
“Savanna,” Preston hisses, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “You can’t quit. You’ve been putting out all kinds of great numbers. My dad will have my balls if I let you go.”
This gets my full attention and I drop a bag of candy back into the drawer and straighten up to my full height. I’m five-six, so I’m not overly tall, but the look on my face must say it all because Preston shrinks away from me.
“Yes, I can quit. And there is not a damn thing you can do to stop me,” I tell him, my tone dripping with malice. “Get your disgusting ass out of this cubicle so I can finish packing in peace, or so help me, Preston, the punishment you face with your father will look like a great day at the amusement park.”
And there it is. The emotion I knew I could stir up. If he were someone else, I would be cowering in the corner, terrified of what comes next. The thought creates a wave of adrenaline which hits me like a brick wall. It’s all I can do not to reach out and grab hold of the desk to keep me standing straight as Preston belittles me.
“I knew I never should have wasted a minute on you. You have damaged goods and prude written all over you,” he seethes at me, the blazing anger in his eyes nearly making me wither on the spot. “You’re a waste of fucking breath. Good riddance, Savanna.”
It isn’t until Preston turns and leaves that I realize I’m holding my breath. It comes out in a harsh whoosh as I sag, my hands coming down hard on the desk to support my weight as my eyes close. Every inch of my body is vibrating, and I know I need to get the hell out of here before I break down and lose any semblance of control I have.
There isn’t a single part of me that likes chaos, and I’ve managed to throw my entire world into it in the span of twenty minutes. This job is the only thing I’ve got in Santa Rosé. It keeps a roof over my head, food in my belly, gas in the tank; and I’ve just thrown it away. I hate the unknown. Yet here I am, willingly putting myself straight into it.
“Here,” a soft voice to my right says, causing me to startle visibly. Turning to the voice, I see Elena, my cubicle neighbor, standing with a box, giving me a small, apologetic smile. “I thought maybe you could use this.”
If I could choose one person in the office to be friends with, it would be this woman. We’ve done the whole small talk thing, chatted here and there, and she’s always been friendly enough, but that’s as far as it’s ever gone between us.
“Thanks.”
“You have a couple plants. I thought you’d probably want to make a clean getaway and not have to come back for anything,” she explains, tucking a piece of black hair behind her ear.
“I appreciate that. Truly.” Taking the box from her, I set it on my desk and start placing my things inside. I almost feel bad that I never made more of an effort to get to know her. Maybe I didn’t try hard enough to learn about any of my coworkers. Maybe it was me that was closed off to meeting people and inviting them into my life.
“He tries to date the smart ones, and fucks the ones he deems dumb. I guess after the whole Miller thing, no one warned you. They just wanted to see if you’d sink or swim.” Her head cocks to the side and her brown eyes rake up and down the length of my body, making me feel like I’m under a microscope. “After what I just heard, I’m still not sure which one it is.”
And maybe I shouldn’t have made more of an effort to get to know these people. I don’t know what to say, but it seems I don’t need to say anything as she turns around and heads back to her own desk, leaving me there feeling more discombobulated than I felt before she appeared.
At least I have a box to use now. I make quick work filling it, double checking all the drawers for anything else that might be mine before I gather everything to head for the elevators just outside of reception. I’m grateful that no one stops me on my way, though I do get a few curious looks and knowing smirks, which seems worse than if someone did say something.
Recognizing I’m making the right decision, I remain as proud as I can with my head up, even if it’s making me feel sick every step I take toward the elevators.
My mind is racing with thoughts of my bank account, my savings, and the steps I need to take in order to secure another job, pronto. I don’t think to pray that the elevator is deserted so I can ride down to the parking garage alone. Which is probably good since I’m not a prayer kind of person, but maybe it would have helped to throw one up to the big guy, or girl, since it seems I’m having that kind of day.
The doors slide open a second after the bell chimes to signify its arrival, and I’m momentarily frozen in my spot when I see a man already standing inside.
“Shit,” I curse under my breath, because I really don’t want to do the walk of work shame with anyone to bear witness.