She really could not just catch a break, could she? September twenty-ninth, eleven a.m, in the year 2030. On this day, Rita B. Anozim, age twenty eight, thought of murder and had all the heart and mind to carry it out to the bloody end. Rowena Dale, a blonde faker than purple strawberries, a ponytail that would make any torturer turned hairdresser happy, wearing what looked like one big pair of basketball shorts walked–no–stormed into Deleze Inc, managed to make it past security, came up to the top floor, into her office and give her a slap across the face.
The shock of it made her numb but that only lasted before rage took over. She did not even know when she did it.
“How dare you keep me from Samuel?! How dare you let that Colombian bitch in here instead of me?!” Rita saw a flash of red in her vision and felt a spark of rage ignite in her and while the pale fake bitch in over done matte makeup continued screaming and monologuing about whatever it was she was concerned with screaming about, Rita's own hand flew of its own accord, a reflex she had not used in years. The loud smack that came as the force of her hand met Rowena's face made every hard slap in every television drama look incredibly pale in comparison. The satisfaction was incomparable.
Rowena went down. Hard. Falling off the stilts she called shoes, landing on her ass and her side. She looked up at Rita her left hand cradling her left cheek that had a very clear perfect red imprint of Rita's hand welling up on it. Rita was just surprised she actually wore underwear.
“You hit me.” Rowena whispered.
She should be grateful that was the only thing she did. Rowena's eyes moved to the door and back to her. Rita's eyes followed. There were people at the door, staff and security alike. Rita had not realized they had an audience. “She hit me! You all saw! ”
“You did it first. That's what happens when you start slapping people first thing in the morning.” Rita turned to the door. “And how in hell did she make it in the building. Let alone up here and into this office?” she asked. The question pointed at security who just stood there and watched the show. They scrambled into action but Rowena was having none of it.
She got up, wrestling out of the hold that was put on her. “Hey! Eyes on me bitch! You will be hearing from my lawyers! You will pay for this!” she screeched, pointing at the red handprint on her cheek.
“Great, you will be hearing from mine too.” She turned to security again. “What are you waiting for? Get this thing out of her!” Gosh, who validated these batch of morons as security! They rushed to do their job, grabbing Rowena just as she was about to pounce in Rita's direction.
She turned to the rest of their audience at the door. “And as for the rest of you, get back to work.”
“What is going on here?” An loud and angry voice came from the back of the crowd. A second later, the air around all of them felt heavy. Oh now he chooses to come in to work. Now! Great timing and all but really?!
The said crowd immediately parted for who Rita knew it was. Samuel walked into the office and if looks could kill. Rita was not very phased much. He had been giving her that stare occasionally in the course of their three and a half month ‘Partnership’. It still got the point across though. Start talking unless I am going to start pulling heads off. The threat more pronounced in her case. Her mind racing to the bloody images on his screen. She swallowed thickly.
Rowena was quicker than them all. “Samuel! Let me go. Samuel please help me.” she pleaded with all the charisma of a well versed actress. Or a seasoned liar.
Oh good Lord.
Still fighting against the grip of the two guards holding her arms. “This–this ugly fat bitch hit me!” she screamed, pointing a finger in Rita's direction.
Did that screaming stick just call her fat.
“Look at this!” she added gesturing to the palm print on her face.
“Is this how your employees act towards your guests? I demand that this untrained madwoman leave this company!”
The last words Rowena uttered stung somewhere a little sore. Childhood trauma could do that to you. After those words all Rita saw was red and her hands around Rowena's neck.
Samuel looked at Rita, orbs calm. The tension in the air and her thoughts completely the opposite. He faced Rowena and those calm orbs froze like a glass of water twenty degrees below zero. They all felt it. Even Rowena. Her expression said shit shit shit.
When he spoke, the glass shattered. “I will not be firing my assistant. Not anytime soon anyway.” The last part had Rita zeroing her gaze at him.
“Yes, she slapped you and did a good job of it.” he continued. The air getting heavier and Rita did not know if the chill in the air was just her.
“And when did I ever refer to you as a guest, let alone my guest.” Samuel's eyes turned gold and Rita was not sure where this was going anymore. She did not think anyone knew. And she highly doubted this so called security could do anything if he gave into his urges. Whatever they were.
“There is a stark difference between being a guest and someone that just waltzed in. For one, they don't act like deranged animals, knocking over anything and anyone like I have been informed you did. And definitely not slapping someone for something I imagine is intangible and exceedingly unimportant.” The look he was giving Rowena made Rita feel a little bit sorry for her. A little bit. Like about fifty millimeters larger than a particle of pollen or dust.
“Take this person out of here and see to it that she never enters this building ever again.” Samuel barked. His orders aimed at the guards. “We will discuss this inconceivable breach afterwards. Infact as soon as you show that woman the door.”
The guards did as they were told. Dragging away a still struggling Rowena through the space the crowd cleared. “Let go of me. I can walk on my own.” she cried.
“Throw her out.” Samuel called. And cue more struggling and screaming.
“And as for the rest of you! Didn't Rita say something about getting back to work?” He asked. They crowd all scrambled away, closing the door behind them. Rita did not blame them. Who wanted to be anywhere near a pissed off Alpha?
Samuel straightened his maroon suit. He had rushed in here like he just got the call, dressed as fast as he could and rushed over. He had managed to get the gold out of his eyes now. Rita heaved a small sigh of relief. “Rita, follow me into my office.” he said, walking to his office door. The words effectively sealing her breath again.
“I'd rather not Sir.” She said. The heaviness in the air had not reduced since, the wolf was still out and she did not feel safe walking in there with him without a bat, a taser and a video camera. Mostly the bat. Preferably a steel one. Reinforced too.
Samuel stopped and turned to her. She could still make out the gold swirling beneath the brown. “Excuse me. And why would do you say that?” he asked.
“Don't take it the wrong way Sir, but the last time I went into your office, I ended up having hot coffee plastering my shirt to my chest. A bruised set of fingers and most of the company calling me a whore with 'technique gone wrong'.” she countered. Her stance still the same. She was not moving.
They stared at each other for what seemed like several minutes. Before either of them said anything.
“And another thing, I'm not sure if the board members have addressed this or not but I'm addressing it now. What do you think you are doing?” She asked looking directly into his eyes.
“I have no idea what you are talking about.” He replied returning her stare.
This guy. Was he really going to play this game? After everything that just went down? “No idea what i'm–Don't tell me you–don't tell me that shit!”