‘You’re an arse!’ I said through gritted teeth.
He turned. ‘What did you say to me?’
‘You heard me.’ I said, walking into his personal space. ‘You have no right to talk to me this way. I’m not here because I enjoy your dull company or anything like that. I’m here because I need the money.’
His stare was ice. Without saying a word, he left. That put him in his place.
The situation somehow got more uncomfortable. I had to do a bit of overtime, as I was behind on work. I was alone in the office. As I was about to enter the kitchen, a sniffing sound made me look over my shoulder; it sounded like someone had a cold and was blowing their nose.
It startled me because I’d thought I was alone. My eyes darted around, trying to detect where the sound had come from. I took another step forward then another and stopped when it came again. My throat tightened. It was coming from Davian’s office. The door was open, which was odd; he never left the door open. I moved forward and glanced at the office. Davian was bent over his desk, there were photographs, and bottles of glues lined neatly one after another like soldiers. Alongside them were lines of white powder and a rolled-up bill. My mouth gaped open. I looked at the powder and at him. His face went red. It was so sad and pathetic. There he was, Giselle’s star, abusing her trust. If she found out about this, Davian doing coke in her office, she’d have him fired. I scurried back, looking over my shoulder for a moment; I thought he’d come after me. He didn’t. I went back to my desk, gathered my bag and I left through the fire exit to avoid running into him. I think he was too embarrassed to say anything, but I didn’t want to take any chances.
***
It might have come as a shock to her, but Davian did coke and the reason wasn’t to be social, or to party, nor to make him horny. He wasn’t addicted to it. He took it to stay awake. Davian found sleep a waste of time and wanted to stay awake as much as possible. In order to do that, he had a supply of two things: coffee and coke.
***
I didn’t tell anyone about it, but the urge was strong. I pictured it with grim satisfaction as I spread this to the office until it reached Giselle and she fired him. But I kept my mouth shut; it's not something you want to tell people about and Giselle wasn’t going to take office gossip seriously. She would need proof. Davian didn’t show his face in the office for three days.
I was on my way to do photocopies when he came out of Giselle’s office. I kept my head low and went on, but he was behind me, strolling casually. My heart was in my mouth. I stopped and called for the lift. He stood beside me and said.
‘Walk.’
My hands trembled. What he was going to do? What could he do? I descended the stairs with him behind me. I stood by the machine with my head bowed low, pressing the papers against my chest as if they would protect me. He stood in front of me.
‘Look at me, Lottie,’ he said in a low soothing voice.
I looked at him and swallowed.
‘Did you tell anyone?’ he asked in the same calm voice.
It was as if my mouth was made of cloth and it was suffocating me. I shook my head.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked.
I nodded.
‘Even if you talked, no one would believe you. It’s your word against mine and who do you think they are going to believe: me or the help?’
I dropped my hands to my sides, clutching them into fists. The nerve of this guy. The little shit.
‘Do you think you are so important that I would go around and talk about you? I didn’t even know you were there and I don’t care,’ I snapped, turning my back to him and getting on with my work. ‘You’re the one who cares since you felt the need to bring it up. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Giselle needs these ASAP.’
I stabbed buttons on the photocopier, but I felt his hot stare on my back.
‘Fine...’ he said.
***
What was he thinking anyway? What if Giselle walked in? He’d be out of a job in no time. The one thing Giselle hates is people taking advantage of her. Lottie did keep her word; she didn’t even mention this to me.
***
This morning, I met Lilia for breakfast before work. After we ordered our coffees and scrambled eggs on toast, she leaned closer and placed her hand on mine.
‘What?’ I said.
‘I don’t want to alarm you, but I have some bad news,’ she said, pouting her lips.
‘What’s wrong?’ I said.
‘Last night, Taylor had her speaker on and she heard Giselle and Davian talking.’
‘What about?’
She pointed her finger at me.
I pointed at myself. ‘Me?’
I knew what it was about, and Davian was going to make it impossible for me to be left in peace, not after what I had seen.
‘He told her you don’t fit in and to have you,’ she made bunny ears with her fingers, ‘removed.’
‘Why?’ I cried.
She fell silent as the waiter placed two plates of scrambled eggs and toast in front of us, along with two steaming cups of coffee. Lilia reached for the ketchup, and the bottle made farting sounds when she squeezed it.
‘Apparently Giselle asked him the same thing; why do you want me to have her removed? Did she insult a client? Have you caught her stealing? I can’t fire a girl because you think she doesn’t fit in,’ Lilia said.
I buried my face in my hands. It was about what I saw, it had to be. I’d told him I wouldn’t tell anyone and I had no intentions of doing so.
‘He really hates me,’ I cried.
Lilia regarded me. ‘He’s a prick. Let me have a word with him.’
‘No, no, I already did.’
Lilia stared at me. ‘You did? When was this?’
I told her what he’d said to me in the kitchen. Lilia laughed until she was in tears.
‘You really called him an arse? You go, girl.’
‘Is Giselle going to fire me?’
Lilia shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you, she’s not going to fire you unless there is a legit reason. Ignore him, he’ll get over it. Now eat up. You’ll need your strength.’
***
Lottie showed up at my door unexpectedly when this happened, but I didn’t know the truth behind it until now. She brought an Indian take-out and a bottle of wine.
‘Davian hates me,’ she announced over dinner.
‘Uh, what makes you think that?’ I asked, picking up a forkful of the chicken curry.
She cut the naan bread in tiny pieces. ‘He wants me gone.’
‘Gone?’
‘From work. He doesn’t like me.’
‘So? He’s not your boss, tell him to bugger off.’
‘I did, but he went to Giselle and demanded she should have me “removed” because I don’t fit in. I didn’t think he’d do something like this.’
‘I’ll have a word with him,’ I said.
‘No, please. I don’t want to look like I came crying to you, and I can speak for myself.’
‘Yeah, you did and it didn’t work. I’ll have a word with him.’
I went to the flat that Davian shares with Melissa. A tiny one-bedroom apartment, a perfect room for damaged goods, as he likes to describe himself. When I got there, the flat was pitch black, apart from a lamp on his desk. I visualised the apartment, the fitted carpets on the floors, and white painted walls. There was photographic equipment on the wall unit, vinyls and books stacked on a bookshelf. The apartment was like their little solitary confinement. Two lovers stuck in their artistic world in their own personal space.