Breaking up with My Boss - Alexis Winter Page 0,25
reminder. I really shouldn’t be surprised though.
What would a man like him see in a woman like me? We come from completely different worlds. He’s handsome, charming when he wants to be, rich, and has nice things. I, on the other hand, have always been broke. I’ve never been able to afford nice vacations—meaning I haven’t even managed to get out of the state of Illinois. He’s been places, seen things. He’s wise with his Harvard degree, and all I have is a degree I printed off the computer after finishing my online classes. Everything about him screams wealth and privilege while everything about me screams state-issued medical insurance and used clothing. Not that those things are bad by any means. I’m proud of myself and the way I grew up. He may have had money, but I had a family and friends who loved me. I worked hard for everything I have. And I’m a good person. Why wouldn’t I be proud of myself?
Instead of going out to shop for the gym clothes I’ll need then going to the gym, I decide I’ll hang out in the living room watching TV, eating snacks, and repainting these nails. I don’t know why I told the nail tech I was fine with the boring nude color she chose; it’s not my style at all.
I go to my room and change back into my pajamas: a pair of black cloth shorts and a tank top. I gather everything I’ll need for my little rest day: nail polish, remover, chips, soda, snack cakes, candy, and a couple of books. I have everything lined up on the coffee table as I sit on the couch and turn on the TV. I flip through dozens of channels, trying to find something that will keep my attention. I end up on some teen vampire movie and shrug as I drop the remote on the table. I start by taking off this plain nail polish. I do my toes first then start on my left hand. While it dries, I tear into a bag of chips. I’m sitting back on the couch with chip crumbs everywhere when he walks in.
He stops before he even sees me. “What’s that smell?” He starts looking around, finding me.
“Sorry, I was bored with the polish color the lady picked out, so I decided to do them myself.”
“Yourself?” he asks, face scrunching.
I hold up my hand and show him my black nails. “Much better, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t think. You just ruined a $200 manicure and pedicure.”
I wiggle my toes when he speaks of them.
“It’s not ruined. I still have the nails on. It’s just now they’re a different color. A much better color. I mean, who wants nude? So boring,” I mumble, shaking my head.
He grinds his teeth together, seething. “And what is all this shit? Aren’t you supposed to be shopping and getting ready for your gym session?”
“About that . . .” I curl myself up in a ball, wanting to seem smaller. “I’m kind of tired. I didn’t sleep well, so I thought I’d skip it. It’s Sunday, after all. A day of rest, not a day to kill yourself.”
His hands land on his hips and his jaw flexes. “You’re not skipping it. I’ve paid a lot of money for that membership and trainer. You’ve already ruined a $200 manicure and pedicure, so you’re not wasting any more of my money. Now clean this shit up and get off your ass!” he yells, storming off into his bedroom and slamming the door behind him.
I let out a long sigh. Oh, how I miss my quiet Sundays at home—the one day a week when I refused to leave my apartment or change out of my pajamas. I’d lounge around all day, eating and watching TV. I’d read, nap, and enjoy the silence.
I turn off the TV and start cleaning up my mess. I’m not going shopping today, but I will go to the gym. I’ll go there, blow off the trainer, and instead go into their spa. Another massage couldn’t hurt, especially with this now-raging headache.
Ten
Matthew
Well, it seems that turning her down has just brought us full circle. We’re no longer playing nice—no longer on good terms. It’s like she’s doing everything she can to piss me off. She either ignores me completely or says things she knows will only piss me off. She ruined her nails that I just had done for a function we’re attending, and now