It was not a good idea to leave your job because the CEO and your boss just happened to be the some sort of sex ex. It was totally irrational. And totally hard and stressful. Things Rita did not need. The only thing that benefitted from her added stress was bakery. This past five weeks were filled with endless job applications, driving up and down Alvas, many fruitless interviews and hours of Saturday filled with whacking and pounding dough. Like literally decimating the poor things.
Nothing stood in the way of Rita’s fists, frustration and anger. Not hard lumps of sugar, walnuts, chocolate or the hardest pastry dough. There was nothing she could not tame. Rita did it all. Much to the surprise and worry of her employees. Mathew, in particular who had never seen her like this and nowadays always approached her like she had a neon signs blazing across her forehead saying ‘Handle With Extreme Caution!’ and ‘Approach at your own risk!’ Well at least the pastries benefitted from all of it.
All month long, Dazzling confections had been getting compliments and good reviews because the breads were “so soft and delicious they could have been clouds” and the cakes and buns were “wonderfully and lovingly prepared with sweet hands.”
Nathan had been reading out the reviews while on his break, saying something about cruel irony and the truth behind the counter. Or was it display case? The only bad thing that came from the bakery’s good thing was Mrs Hendrix. The old crone just would not give up on trying her damn hardest to make Rita and her bakery look bad. Much to Rita’s annoyance and Matthew’s terror/irritation, since she more or less, openly declared that Matthew would be hers soon enough.
Matthew had drowned his disgust by stealing several glances, more than usual at Biola and even striking up conversation here and there. Closing time could not have arrived fast enough. It was a big welcome along with the last order of the day. Rita stepped into her apartment, walked into the living room and threw her purse on the couch with a second thought.
Once upon a time, she would have raced to her laptop to check for any responses from her applications. Now, with each passing day she just could not see the point anymore. After a bath, a few pieces of shortcake and virtually anything that would get her to procrastinate on opening her laptop, Rita gave in.
She begrudgingly opened the device and fancied playing a game or something before going to her dreaded mailbox. Something just told her to get on with it. She protested and then gave in after an overall thirty minutes. Rita clicked the mail icon. There was nothing really different, just a new list of declines and long winded letters that simply put said she was not qualified, was not what they were looking for, or the spot has just been filled.
A deep burning filled Rita’s chest, frustration, desperation and rejection were the fuel and circumstances, the match. Her eyes burned too, with unshed tears. She knew getting another job would be hard but right now it looked close to fucking impossible.
She did not want to be anywhere in or near Deleze Inc anymore. Sex ex excluded. Rumors about Theo and his victims had found their way back onto her floor and Rita could feel her coworkers start to piece things together. She did not want their sorry looks or their pity. Their glances or whispers. None of it.
In a fit of rage, Rita started selecting emails. One, six, nine. They were all heading to Trash. In a fury storm of clicking, she accidentally opened one. “Arrrg–” Rita stopped mid-groan as her eyes took in the email subject. ‘Congratulations’ it read. On reflex, Rita’s eyes flicked to the body of the email:
Dear Ms. Anozim,
Congratulations! You have been selected for the position of Personal Assistant to the CEO, Mrs. Porsha Lupini. You showed you have what it takes to hold this position in last week’s interview and your credentials have further qualified you for it.
A running list of your duties is attached below. You will be required to sign a full year trial contract. Attached below is a sample of the contract detailing the do’s and don’t’s of the job position, your immediate and long term benefits and repercussions if the contract is breached.
If you agree to these terms and conditions then let us know within three working days. We will let you know when you will begin.
Once again, congratulations from everyone of us at Nexion Intl.
Rita’s brain struggled to process what she had read, so she read it again. And again. Just to make sure her mind was not playing tricks on her. The weightless feeling of happiness replaced the burning that had previously filled her chest, exited by a long sigh of relief. Tears fell from happy eyes before Rita busted out a little jig on the couch. Afterwards, she checked when the email was sent. It was Friday, 10:30pm. She still had time to reply. She checked out the documents attached to the email. There was a picture of the CEO with the first one. The list did not look too daunting. The second document sealed the deal.
Rita typed in her response and sent it. The response should come in about a day or three. She starred the email, removed it from the deleted stack and trashed the rest. Rita relaxed on the couch, a sense of victory washing over her. This was the first taste of good news she had had in a long while. Rita left the laptop on the living room table and danced all the way to the kitchen, moving in time to the sound of promise and that happy jolly song she could not place. Time to whip up something to celebrate.
The scent of warm chocolate and peanut still lingered heavily in the air. As if there were still more waiting. Max sighed before putting the last bit of the bun in his mouth and savouring the nutty chocolatness. Damn, they were good. He should have bought more. By now, the shop he got them from would have already closed for the day. He would have to visit again sometime. Maybe tomorrow?
From the side pocket of the black duffel bag by his side, Max brought out a water bottle and took a long drink. Nothing like having something sweet after a job well done. From his apartment balcony, Max watched four police cars race down the road, sirens blaring, going back where he had come from. They were obviously too late. Max brought the bottle away from his mouth, watched the world below him a little more before getting bored and going inside.
He picked up the book he had left on the table. His spot kept open by a purple marker. He flipped open his spot, welcomed by the gallery of photos. There were twelve photos on each page and everyone of them was marked over with a purple X. All except one, but Max would take care of that. The photo was of a white male just turned thirty, blond hair, baby blue eyes, clean shaven, charming smile. A total fucker who literally dumped his fucks in a garbage can and set them on fire. Max popped the marker’s cover off and with elegant strokes marked the pictures from edge to edge with an X.
Seventy-two down. Thirty six more to go.
Gaaggh. He really wished he had another bun.