Coming Back (The Sarah Kinsely Story - Book #2) (2 page)

BOOK: Coming Back (The Sarah Kinsely Story - Book #2)
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"I — we are worried about you Sarah."

My face felt like it was on fire. I didn't know what to say.

"What's the deal Kinsely?" Peyton's voice came out sounding harsh, demanding, and sharp.

"I just haven't been feeling well," I lied.

Brandon let out a soft sigh and shot a worried glance towards Peyton.

"Listen Sarah," Peyton continued, "Abraams and Snider isn't for everybody. We need people to perform regardless of how they are feeling. Do you understand what I am saying?"

I knew exactly what she was saying. She wanted to fire me. She and the other girls had made a massive embarrassment out of me and now that she saw that I didn't think it was funny, she wanted to get rid of me.

Get rid of the girl who won’t play our little games.

This meeting felt like one giant humiliation fest. I wanted to just quit right then and there, to throw my hands up and expose Peyton for who she really was, and to do it all in front of Brandon Snider, partner of the firm.

So I tried.

"Well, I am very sorry about that. I think my body is just having a hard time adjusting to the new time zone and I got a little sick. I completely understand if you want to let me go."

Brandon laughed.

Both Peyton and I looked at him with surprise.

"Peyton was right. You are hilarious Kinsely."

He turned his body in his chair so that he was facing me now.

"We aren't going to fire you. Why would we fire a talent like you? Just give it a few years and I can see you sitting in Peyton's desk. We just need you to understand what kind of a place we are here. We expect a lot from our team and want to make sure you are on board with it all."

My passive attempt at getting fired had failed. I opened my mouth to try again but Brandon continued.

"Peyton, give us a minute will you?"

Peyton shot Brandon a glare. He shot one right back. She let out a sigh and walked out of her office slamming the door behind her. He watched her walk out, smiled when she slammed the door, and then turned back to me. He pulled his chair closer to mine and spoke in a whisper.

"Peyton can be a bit of a pill sometimes. I wouldn't say her people skills are the best, but she knows how to get the job done and we love her for that. She isn't mad at you, I can assure you."

I faked a smile and said "thanks" knowing just how wrong he actually was.

Brandon seemed to recognize the sarcasm in my voice and flashed a frown. He stood up and walked to the large window behind Peyton's desk that overlooked the Willamette river.

"I am sorry that I have been so busy lately," he said looking off into the deep water.

"I suppose that is all part of being the boss, right?"

"No, I don't mean that. Normally I try and take every new employee of mine out for dinner. You know, a getting-to-know-you sort of thing. I am sorry I didn't catch you when you first got here."

Peyton hadn't told me about any getting-to-know you dinners, but considering what else she didn't tell me, I wasn't surprised. A fancy dinner for employees actually sounded very Abraams and Snider-esque.

"Oh, that's OK," I said, "I don't need any fancy dinners. I am just happy to have a job."

He turned around, a broad, white smile across his face.

"Whether you
need
a fancy dinner or not, it is company policy that I provide one for you."

“A company that you half own.”

He smiled and moved back to sit in front of me.

“Yes, and I would like you to feel like a valued member of that team. Would you let me buy you some dinner so we can get to know one another a little better?”

I smiled. All things considered, his kindness transposed against current events was a breath of fresh air.

"OK, just as long as we don't go to that Asian fusion restaurant down by
Mary's
," I said preemptively.

"You don't like Asian food?"

"Not anymore."

Chapter 3

After Peyton returned and I got the rest of the earful she had been waiting to deliver, I walked with Brandon back to my desk. We chatted for a minute and he said he was really looking forward to spending more time to get to know his “new favorite copywriter”.

If he hadn’t been old enough to be my father, I would have started filling out the sexual harassment forms from HR, but he seemed harmless enough. It was probably just his incredibly crisp suits and professional manner that made everything he said sound slightly sexual, so I just shrugged it off as my own crazy brain playing tricks again. To be honest, it was just nice to know that someone at Abraams and Snider would have my back, and his being one of the original partners and all certainly didn’t hurt.

The rest of the day flew by without incident. Brandon worked his magic and twenty minutes after our little meeting with Peyton I had stacks of new projects to work on. I threw myself into my work and let the world disappear for just a moment.

 

 

By that afternoon, I was exhausted. My body was still reeling from the emotional toll the past two weeks had taken and I was happy that today was a Friday, even if it was the only day I had come to work that week. Using the same technique I had entered the building with, and having since improved upon my original strategy, I made it out of Abraams and Snider that afternoon without seeing, hearing, or even noticing Peyton or Lizzy.

Because I had actually shown up to work that day, I boarded the streetcar home with something I hadn’t ever had in Portland: a paycheck.

I had decided as soon as the HR lady handed it to me that I was going to spend it all on treating myself to a weekend of relaxation and comfort. So naturally, I bought half of the chocolate ice cream in stock from the grocery store near my house, two boxes of popcorn, a big bag of kids cereal, and four frozen pizzas.

I struggled through my front door holding the overloaded cloth bags that held my weekend’s solace. Putting the groceries on the kitchen counter I felt the tension release from my shoulders. My whole body seemed to relax as the bags slipped off my elbows.

I had made it.

I was
home
.

I changed from my work outfit into a comfortable pair of my favorite pajama pants from college. I slipped on my favorite T-shirt from an Arcade Fire concert I attended with my girlfriends back in New York, and I snuggled myself deep into my couch with my favorite quilted blanket that I had just unpacked. With a gallon of ice cream tucked snuggly under my arm and a fresh baked pizza lying on my coffee table, I flipped open my laptop and lost myself in the world of unending Netflix series.

It must have been nearly midnight when I heard a loud knock coming from the front door. Since I had spent the past few years living in apartment buildings in New York, it came as a double shock to have somebody actually knocking on my door. The fact that it was nearly midnight made it even more absurd and unusual.

I waited.

Nothing.

Must have been the phonebook delivery guy.

I turned my Netflix back on and was just about to put my headphones back in my ears when the knock came again. It was much louder this time and I heard some rustling behind the door. The New Yorker in me raised its head for a split second and I started for the door to tell whoever it was to beat it.

Then I remembered I was alone.

I don’t mean it like that. I knew I was the only person inside the house, but it hadn’t occurred to me until that very moment how lonely it can be living in a house all by yourself. There were no nosy neighbors who could hear through the paper thin walls all of my going-ons like back in my apartment in New York. There were no loud and ruckus parties going on in the hallways to prevent creepers from hanging around my front door.

Worst of all, there wasn’t really anyone in this entire city who I could call except the cops.

I was truly alone.

I told my New Yorker self to relax and instead of throwing open the door and spewing expletives, I crept slowly towards the door hoping to get a view of the person through the peephole.

Before I made it to the door however, the knocking started again, even louder this time. Fear slipped quietly into my heart taking me by surprise and I suddenly felt a rush of adrenaline as news reel footage of murder victims flashed in my head.

Dammit, I need to stop watching those crime shows.

My body froze just feet from the door and I looked around for a possible escape if whatever was behind the door made its way through to the other side.

As I was standing there contemplating what objects I could use for weapons, I heard a voice yell my name.

“Sarah, open up, I know you're in there.”

Oh shit
.

It was Aiden.

My toes curled and almost pulled up the hardwood floor in reaction to hearing his voice. My whole body was on edge like a cat before they pounce. I was now more than afraid, I was disgusted, I wanted him to leave and I wanted him to leave now. Not caring if he heard me or not I ran into the kitchen where I had stashed my recently unpacked cutlery set. I grabbed the butcher knife and the meat prongs, and settled back into the corner nook near the sink. Like an idiot, I had left my cell phone in the front room. It wouldn’t normally have been a problem, but I had also left the front room window partially open.

I cursed myself.

The banging started again.

“Sarah, listen, I know you're in there and I know you can hear me. For God's sake, I can hear you rustling around in there..”

Dammit.
I should have been more careful.

“Listen," Aiden said, "I've been trying to call you for the last week. Why aren't you getting back to me?"

You know exactly why I'm not getting back to you, you bastard.

"I really want to see you again Sarah, I'm not sure what happened, but I'd like to at least have the chance to make it right."

I bet you do.

Every word that came out of his mouth seemed to stain my ears and cause my body to reject the vile meaning hidden behind them. I cringed when I heard my name coming from his lips. He was like a disease that I desperately needed to eradicate, but one for which I didn’t have a vaccine.

I begin to make plans. I imagined how quickly I could grab my phone, call 911 and defend myself from him as he would surely see me through the cracked open window in my living room. As I become lost thought I stopped.

The silence had returned.

Had he gone? Or was he just coming around the back to see if the doors were unlocked?

I tried to remember if they were or not.

I couldn’t remember.

Without warning my computer came to life. The intro song to one of my favorite TV shows,
NCIS,
started playing. I closed my eyes hoping the noise didn’t give me away.

The silence from outside my door continued.

He must have left.

Nearly an hour passed before I finally made my way out of the kitchen to turn off my computer.

It had been comforting hearing the familiar voice of Mark Harmon competently solving crimes and keeping his team out of trouble. I admit, it had lulled me into a false sense of safety as I sat leaned up against the wall of my kitchen, butcher knife in hand.

I threw the gallon of melted chocolate ice cream in the trash, half-mourning the loss, and took a bite of now cold pizza.

My appetite was nowhere to be found.

I went through the house and turned on every light I could find. I put my charger and my phone next to my bed and I tried to go to sleep.

It was useless.

I tossed and turned imagining Aiden breaking into my house.

The truth was that I was 25, a woman, and alone in a big city.

I knew that I had to change that starting tomorrow.

 

 

Chapter 4

I couldn't sleep.

Every bump-in-the-night caused my heart to stop beating and my hands to turn into frigid icicles. After ten minutes of hiding under my covers, I would peak my eyes over the edge of my comforter to check if Aiden was in my house.

By 2 a.m., 911 had made its way all the way to the top of my speed dial.

At around 3:30 a.m. I lugged my exhausted body into the kitchen. All the lights in my house were still on so it was no trouble getting to where I needed to go. On any other night I would have bungled my way down my hall so bad my legs would have been black and blue the next morning. In the dark I was completely useless.

They say that eating sugar right before you go to bed makes it harder to sleep. I don't know if I am some sort of freak-of-nature or something, but the opposite effect is true for me. Somehow my body takes sugar and turns it into micro sleeping pills. A handful of
Gummy Bears
and I am in dreamland before I even realize it.

Maybe I should donate my body to science.

BOOK: Coming Back (The Sarah Kinsely Story - Book #2)
6.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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