Grumpy Best Friend

“Why the chairs?” I asked, confused. “And why didn’t they do my office?”

“Chairs are expensive,” he said. “And easy to destroy with a single knife. And for your office—” He shook his head.

“It’s a message for me. They’re trying to scare me, in particular.”

“Don’t take it personally,” he said and drifted in my direction. “Zeke’s a fucking prick. Probably thinks you’re easier to break, since you’re a woman.”

I looked away and felt tears come into my eyes. I was so scared, and so angry, and suddenly it felt like everything was so real. I couldn’t believe they came into my space, into my office, and ruined this day. They managed to make this one of the best days, and one of the worst days, of my life. And all over some chairs. It was pathetic.

“Maybe he’s right,” I said.

“Jude.” Bret hesitated, but came closer. “Don’t think like that.”

“Let’s get security.” I stared into his eyes and as much as I hated it, I knew this was the right move. We couldn’t have Zeke harassing us and our employees. Even if security was going to be hard to explain, they’d be worth it, if that meant keeping Zeke and his goons at bay.

“Are you sure?” Bret asked. “I don’t want this to be some emotional decision.”

“It’s not emotional, I promise. It’s the right call.”

He nodded and looked like he might reach out for me. A broken window and some slashed chairs. I wondered what was next. Zeke would escalate, I was sure of that. But the question was, would he escalate to actual violence?

“I’ll get in touch with some of those companies Lady Fluke recommended,” he said. “Hopefully we can get some people here as soon as possible.”

“Thanks.” I looked out the window and couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze again. I saw his reflection in the glass, saw the pity and sadness on his face, and I hated myself for that. I had to keep my emotions in check. I wanted to be strong, but I’d never gone through something like this, and I felt completely lost and out of control.

“I’ll be down the hall if you need me,” he said. “I’ll round up the chairs and figure out something.”

“I can do that,” I said.

He shook his head and was already walking to the door. “Don’t worry, I got it.” He stepped out into the hall and I stayed where I was, unable to make myself move. It felt like the only safe place in this whole building was my office, even if I knew that wasn’t the case.

My office, the only untouched spot.

That was a message, all right. I didn’t know exactly what the message was meant to say, but Zeke wanted me to hear it, and me in particular. He wanted me to crumble, to give him the patents, or at least to pay him off—and some part of me wanted to do it.

But I wouldn’t give up yet. This office was like a dream, and even if Zeke was trying to break the spell, I wouldn’t back down just because I found some opposition. I was desperate to make this work, whether it was a good idea or not, and maybe I could do it, maybe if I could put my past aside and accepted what was happening, and stepped up, and fought my hardest—and trusted in Bret a little bit—maybe I could make it work.

Or maybe I’d end up like one of those chairs with a knife in my chest.

13

Bret

I hired the very blandly named Knight Security Company. They came highly recommended, and frankly, they were the only ones with an opening. The security guys showed up wearing business casual outfits, and seemed like they could fit in almost any office, except they were all former military. It was obvious in the way they held themselves, the way they talked to each other, and the way they scanned the area for threats like an instinct.

Sometime I wondered if I might’ve ended up like one of them. The military was an option for me for a long time. I figured, if I didn’t get into college, I could get out of Levittown by enlisting. My father was going to kill me sooner or later—might as well take my chances in the army. I probably had a better chance surviving a tour of Iraq or Afghanistan than I did living in my drunk asshole father’s house for one second longer than necessary.

The chairs weren’t hard to replace. Lady Fluke wasn’t happy about the monetary loss, but she quickly stopped complaining when I told her what had happened. “Just an empty threat,” she said, and I agreed with her, even if it was bullshit.

Those chairs were a message, loud and clear. Zeke wasn’t playing around, and sooner or later, he’d take it to the next level.