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Authors: Freesia Lockheart

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BOOK: My Kind of Perfect
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“You heard me, Ms. Wilson. Pack your things and hand me over
your resignation letter,” she said to me as she walked towards her armchair.

“Oh… no… you can’t possibly be doing that,” I blurted out
words.

She couldn’t. She had no right whatsoever to fire me out of
the blue. I’d sue her!

She adjusted her glasses and looked up to me. “Yes, I am
firing you.”

“No. You’re not,” I said. “And why?”

She mocked me with a smirk. “You should probably know how
important those clients are to our company.”

I silently nodded.

Of course, they were important. But I was also important.
Everyone in this room was important. And important was my middle name as well
as perfect. You know, important perfect. But whatever, she had no right to do
this to me.

“And you were the one who insisted that you would do this
presentation. You even convinced Claire to let you do it saying that you could
do better,” she continued. “And yes, I did give it to you since you said that I
should give you a chance, which I did. Now look where all that takes us.”

“Yes. But it won’t happen again. I promise to do better from
now on,” I said, almost pleading. I couldn’t lose this job. With the economy
backfiring every job-seeker rummaging the streets, I refused to lose my job.

“You just don’t get it, do you? I’m firing you and that’s
final,” she said as she turned her back on me. “Close the door when you get out
and tell Claire to come see me for a moment.”

“But...” I protested. No other reasons at all? How absurd
was that? She couldn’t do this. This was totally against my human rights.

She swiveled her chair and pointed to the door. “Get out Ms.
Wilson or I’ll call security.”

Security? What was I? A criminal?

“You’ll never find anyone as good as me,” I said to her as I
headed out the room. “You will regret this all your life!”

I slammed the door as hard as I possibly could. Tsk. Who
needed this job anyway? I had such a good fortune and nothing could possibly go
wrong. Everything happened for a reason and it was certainly because a fine job
was waiting for me tomorrow morning.

I stomped my heels angrily down the hallway. This was the
last time that I would be going here and I made sure that they would never
forget me—the witty and perfect girl, Kayla Wilson. Everyone looked at me and
started gossiping as soon as I passed them. I held my head up high.

Go ahead. Talk all you want. Like I’d care, haters!

I got a carton from downstairs and started packing my things
right away. I hadn’t told Claire that she was being called. Why should I?
Bridget already fired me. Why should I obey her now?

“Is everything okay, Kayla?” asked Claire as I was putting
my things inside the box.

Argh.

For a moment I wondered if she was blind or what? I got
fired. Couldn’t she see any of that? Well, I guessed there was no helping it if
that was the case. I would never admit to anyone that I was cut off a moment
ago.

“Yes, everything is fine. I’m quitting this job,” I
credulously told her.

“What about the presentation?” she asked me. Then right that
instant the VIPs walked pass our corridor’s glass wall.

Oh, shoot!

I hurriedly hid myself from them. They were still sniggering
and talking about my mishap earlier. Gossipers. Haters. So unprofessional.

“Where are they going?” asked Claire as she was looking at
them. Then she looked at my directions and was about to ask me what had
happened.

“Kayla...” she said, searching for me. It took her a while
before she noticed that I was squatting on the floor. She asked, “What are you
doing down there?”

“Uhmm... I dropped my favorite pen,” I carelessly answered.
Then I suddenly grabbed the pen from my pocket and purposely dropped it on the
floor without her noticing.

“Want some help?” she offered.

“Oh, it’s okay. I’ve found it,” I said then hurriedly got
up.

I straightened my skirt and showed her my ‘favorite’ pen.
She slowly nodded but you could clearly see that she was still puzzled about
what was going on with me. One moment, I was packing my things. And then the
next, I was fiddling on the floor.

“What happened to the presentation?” she asked me, yet
again.

I looked away and proceeded with my packing. I pretended
that I hadn’t heard what she just said when we were obviously in a close range
that I couldn’t even miss a thing that would come out of her mouth. But then
let’s just say that there had been some phenomenal happening that prevented the
sound waves she made from reaching my ears.

“Kayla?” she asked me again, an octave higher than before.

Gosh, couldn’t she just let it slip by?

As I put the remaining things inside my box, I was relieved
that I finished right on time. At least I didn’t have to listen to her endless
questions now. I carried the box in my arms and told her, “I don’t feel like
doing the presentation after all. I’m going now. See you around, Claire.”

I tried my best to put on the most business-like smile I
could give her. Then I walked out of the room and everyone was of course
looking right at me. Right, they could stare all they want. There would come a
time when I’d be very famous that these people wouldn’t be able to talk to me
without getting an appointment.

I headed to the elevator and made it a point to those who
were seeking to join the ride that I wanted to be alone, even if I had to shove
my box around. Since they were all goody-goody employed, they could wait for
like several minutes if they wanted to use the elevator. It wasn’t stated in
the employee manual that we shouldn’t use the elevator alone. This was one of
my basic rights and they couldn’t take it away from me again.

And they had everything! What else did they want? An
elevator?

Clacking my heels loudly as I was in the lobby, I held my
head up high. They stared. I was used to it so it wasn’t like that should
bother me. But as soon as I walked out of the building, I suddenly realized
what had happened. It was the moment when reality poured down on you, hitting
you head on.

I was jobless.

The economy was suffering a breakdown and I was unemployed.
How could I pay the bills? My apartment? How? And this was my third job. I blew
it again.

It was the same old thing. They were into saying,
‘Kayla, you’re fired’
.

I started to wonder what was wrong with all of them. They
had no clue how to value a talented person as myself. Anyone would never be able
to live up to what I was.

What was going on with my perfect life? Luck gone wrong?

Forcing back the tears, I walked straight down the road
without looking back to the job that I had longed for all my life. That went
without saying that I agreed to be Bridget’s assistant for almost two years
because I really wanted that job. Archer Advertising was the company I wanted
to belong to ever since I was in college. I could still remember how happy I
was when I got hired among thirty others battling to be Bridget’s assistant.

And my promotion. Now I’d never get that promotion.

I held back all the emotions inside, my chest starting to
tighten in despair. After twenty-eight years of existence, I realized that the
clock always ticked on, it never ticked back. The things that I lost would
never find its way back to me.

And then suddenly, as if to mock me some more, one of my
heels snapped. Oh great, even my shoe gave up on me. I sat down the stairs of a
nearby building, placing the box that I was carrying beside me. Then I hammered
the heel against the pavement.

It fell off.

I took a deep breath, calming myself as I looked at my
broken stiletto for a moment. Then suddenly tears started to stream down my
cheeks. It was broken. My favorite stiletto was broken. I sniffed back as more
tears flowed down my cheeks. People stared at me from all directions. They must
be thinking that I was crazy.

A lunatic.

I removed the other one and put both of my shoes inside the
box. After all, I couldn’t possibly walk with just one. Save me all the
trouble. Ignoring the rips I felt my pantyhose was making, I hurriedly hailed a
cab and headed back home. The driver gave me sympathetic looks all the way back
but I did not respond to his senseless notions of pity.

Tsk. What did he know anyway?

“I quit my job. I did not get fired,” I told him while
getting off the taxi and slammed the door so hard that it resonated for a good
while. I walked away with a smug as he was still shouting angrily to me for
almost breaking his taxi door.

Whatever.

I was heading back to my apartment when I noticed that
people around gave me horrified and compassionate looks as I passed by. Okay,
now what? I was only carrying a box.

And had no shoes.

Ignoring them, I abruptly noticed the smudge of mascara on
my hands. Now that said a lot. Argh. I must have looked like some crazy zombie.
I totally forgot to wear waterproof mascara today. Of all days, well, who would
have thought that I will have to cry today? I was not a cry baby to start with.

Regardless my current situation, I avoided their gazes and
headed straight to my apartment. I opened the door and hastily slammed it
behind me. I felt relieved as soon as I was out of other people’s sight. And
the moment that I was alone, I felt the urge of hopelessness settling in.

I dropped the box that I was holding and all my things
scattered around the floor. I held my face with both of my hands as more tears
streamed down from my shaking eyes. Furiously wiping away the droplets that had
found their way out, being a failure kept on popping and popping inside my
head.

I didn’t want it.

I had done everything I could for the last ten years to
avoid being that way. To name a few, I took crash diets, bought thousands of
magazine, and studied like crazy when I was still in the university until I got
hair fall due to excessive stress. I did all those because that was the only
way.

There was no second best. No settling down just because.

But now, it felt like I hadn’t been able to achieve anything
yet and I was getting older by the day. Work sucks. Well, my relationship might
still be categorized under fabulous. But still, work sucks. And since I would
be proposed to any moment soon, at least I hadn’t lost everything. I still got
one amazing boyfriend that I could be proud of. We should just get married and
live happily ever after.

That sounded a lot better.

Crashing down to the sofa, I gave in to exhaustion and had
fallen asleep after hours of crying. What took me back and waken me was my
phone ringing. I squinted, opening my eyes as I tried grabbing my phone. Then I
opened it and put the receiver on my ear and said, “Hello?”

“Hi, Kayla,” a man said on the other line. I rubbed my eyes
and saw Aaron’s name on the screen.

“Hey, babe,” I replied, adjusting my position.

“I’m sorry, I can’t make it tonight. I thought that maybe
I’d just tell you on the phone after all,” he continued.

I turned back and looked at the clock and saw that it was a
little past five. What was he saying? It was still early. And so I gave out an
unintelligent, “Huh?”

I was coherent most of the time. Just not today.

“I’m sorry. I think we shouldn't see each other anymore,”
Aaron said.

Okay, I was getting delusional now. I was starting to hear
my boyfriend say that he was breaking up with me. I should get hold of myself.

“What is it, babe?” I asked him again.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said that it would better if we don’t
see each other again,” he replied.

Wait, so I didn’t hear wrong. He was breaking up... with me?
What was he talking about? Why the sudden break up thing?

“Uhmm... what are you saying, babe?” I asked him in
disbelief. “You see, this morning I got—”

“I want to break up with you,” he cut me off.

Fired. I got fired. Aaron, I got fired.

I heard the crack in my own voice as the words came out.
“You what? Why?”

“I’m seeing somebody new.”

“What!” I exclaimed, standing on my feet in surprise. Why
was he seeing someone new? We were together for two years now.

“I thought you’d be mad that was why I didn’t want to say it
to you in person.”

I paused for a moment.

Of course, I would be mad. Who wouldn’t be? Any girl in my
position would go berserk after hearing that. But then, losing him seemed to be
much harder. I was jobless and breaking up might entirely send my whole world
straight to the ground.

And so I convinced myself that it was better if we would
just work it out. This was nothing but a pity mess and my perfect boyfriend was
only confused for a while. That girl must have had mesmerized him. But it would
only be for a while and he would be back as soon as he realized that he
couldn’t live his life without me.

“I’ll go there, we’ll talk this through. You’re just tired.
I’m coming,” I said as I grabbed my coat and was to about to head out of the
door.

“I’m moving away with her. We’re getting married tomorrow.
I’m sorry. Kayla. I was planning to tell you earlier but things just got out of
hand,” he babbled on the other line.

“You jerk! You’re getting married tomorrow?” I shouted at
the mouthpiece. I snapped at the mention of the words ‘getting married’. I
couldn’t believe that he was going to tie the knot to someone else other than
me.

What about my Valentine’s Day proposal?

“I’m sorry, Kayla,” he said before hanging up.

I dropped the phone and it fell down on the floor. The busy
tone resounded in my mind and the tone itself was deafening if not
heartbreaking. What had happened?Aaron was getting married and I was not the
bride. When did all this happen? He had been with me for the last two years and
I hadn’t even noticed that he was having an affair. Yes, that was an affair
because I was the legitimate one.

BOOK: My Kind of Perfect
11.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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