I could just add her to the list of people whose lives were collateral damage in the existence of Raine Alexander Davies.
She turned on her heel and headed toward the door, and I started to let out the breath I’d been holding throughout the exchange. Until she stopped walking.
“I know it’s none of my business, but I’m just really struggling to understand why. I mean, the letter says that the specialist has repeatedly tried to contact you but gotten no response, so they wrote to you here as a last resort. Why wouldn’t you keep these appointments? And I know that Doctor Google is to be avoided at all costs, but I did some research quickly, and it seems like what you have is very rare, but likely treatable. More so if it’s caught early—people who have this can still go on to live a long and full life. You need to see someone about it.”
“You’re right, it’s the definition of none of your fucking business, like we just finished discussing. You’re my employee. We fucked a few times. That’s it. You’re not my wife, or mother, or motherfucking girlfriend. You’re sure as shit not paid to pry into my personal business, or research my medical situation on the company dime. And you most definitely haven’t earned the right to share your opinions on how I live my life—professionally or personally.”
“I’m sorry, but—”
“No buts. I repeat, you’re being paid to work for me, not snoop on me. From now on, all mail comes to me unopened. Understand?”
“Really? It’s a lot of crap. It’s really not worth you wasting your time wading through it all. I’m very sorry I overstepped. It won’t happen again. I can do the mail, there won’t be an issue moving forward.”
“Jesus Christ Noa! Bring. Me. The. Unopened. Mail. Every. Morning. Whether I roll it and smoke it, or wipe my ass on it, it’s not your concern once it leaves your hands. Will you just do as you’re told, for the love of God?” The excessive boom of my voice made her jump, and the sight made me feel even worse.
“Okay. I was just trying to... nothing. I’ll bring in the mail starting tomorrow morning.”
“Good. We got there in the end, though why you had to make it so painful, I don’t fucking know. Now, if you could get on with your work—your actual work, I mean, not that Nancy Drew bullshit—I’d really love to do the fucking same.” She nodded, and though she was staring steadfastly at the floor, I didn’t miss the fact that her eyes had filled with tears. Well, shit, if I wasn’t an absolute fucking bastard. She turned back toward the door.
“Oh, and Nigel?” I feigned disinterest. “What makes you think I want to live to a ripe old age?” More to the point, what made her think that I was living now?
The look of shock on her face was priceless as she stood opening and closing her mouth wordlessly.
“Yeah. Now unless you’re going to join me in this,” I stated as I pointed to the lines I’d chopped out on the small metal tray on my desk, “I suggest you close the door behind you, and stay out of my way for the rest of the day.
She looked like I’d slapped her in the face, and again I felt a pang of regret for the way I was treating her. I knew she wasn’t trying to be a pain in my ass, and the fact was, her questions and concerns weren’t unreasonable, but that didn’t make me any less pissed off.
After I’d made short work of the mountain of snow, I sat back at my desk to try to clear some work, but I couldn’t keep my head straight, or focus on what I needed to do for more than a few minutes, before I found my mind wandering and unwanted thoughts creeping in.
The more I tried to push them back down to wherever the fuck they’d come from, the more they resurfaced and flooded my consciousness, the angrier I got. In the end, I decided to call it quits while I was less behind. I wasn’t going to achieve anything meaningful, and was just becoming increasingly irritated.
I walked out without a word to Noa, and headed down to the basement parking garage. Even once I was in the Lambo and driving, I had no real plan for where I was headed, but I figured that, either way, a drive