Karma 5

I pick my phone and earphones and follow the path he took. His steps are long and it is a bit challenging to keep up, it is not that I am short. I am tall but my heels aren’t meant for quick steps.

“Nice pair…” Are the words that greet me when I walk into the room, Mr. Thorne disappeared to.

I look up and I immediately recognize the face and now remember where i heard the name. My step brother listens to his music.

I follow Mr. Thorne and sit beside him. He gives me a weird look but doesn’t utter a word.

“sorry for keeping you waiting.” he addresses the woman with Dunk kid.

“Let’s get down on the matter.” She says.

“You abused your girlfriend.” Mr. Thorne is straightforward.

“Ex-girlfriend.” The woman corrects him.

“Abuse is a strong word to use.” Dunk Kid says as he plays with his Beat by Dre headphones. He nods at me when our eyes meet.

He is so young, i don’t  think he is older than fifteen.

“You called her an attention whore, Satan’s claw bitch and other unsettling words.”

I remove my earphones and stare at the kid celebrity before me.  “Those are not kind words to say to anyone.” I say.

“My son is not here to be judged but to clear his reputation.” The woman says.

Ah! Another momager! Should have figured with her lip fillers.

“He did abuse someone else, it is his victim he should be clearing their reputation.” i state and Mr. Thorne coughs to get my attention which i deliberately ignore.

“Coffee…” Mr. Thorne says.

“I would love some too.” i say, still ignoring him and proceed to focus my attention on the popstar Kid.

“She used me.” Dunk kid says.

“So you humiliated her on social media?” i ask agitated, i know he is a kid but i hate when women are belittled and called bitch, whore…too degrading.

“I didn’t….” He stops when he feels the glare of his Mother.

She has a phone on her hand which has been multitasking with, talking all the same time typing. Then it hits me.

“You didn’t write those awful words, you mother did?” I ask. “She manages your social media too.” i additionally conclude.

“Can i speak to you?” Mr. Thorne glares at me. “Now.” He orders at the expense of my silence.

He doesn’t wait, he stands and stride outside the room and i follow him.

“What do you think you are doing?” He barks at me as soon as i am outside.

“Fighting for women.” I say.

He brushes his temple and shakes his head, “God! This is a PR company, our job is to clear our clients names and not to get emotional or personal just because we identify with it.” He says trying to remain calm.

“You think it is okay to call a woman whore, Bitch?” I ask.

He sighs with frustration, “Your work is to shut up, take notes and do as i say.” He carefully states.

“Just what a typical man would say.” i spit.

“No, just what a typical boss would say regardless of gender.”  

I shake my head in disbelief,  “She is outright wrong.”

“I believe Humanitarians agency still accept volunteers or you can deal with it, we will walk back in there, you will stick to your job descriptions and speak when spoken to. Get it?” He savagely tells me.

I nod  as my mind consoles itself with the pleasure it will derive from punishing him.

“Do you have your file with you?” He asks.

“What file?” i ask confused.

He shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “Tell me you at least brought a notebook or any writing material?” He asks.

I shake my head, “No.”

His jaw clenches, he attempts to wave his hand but gives up midway. “There is so much i can tolerate but incompetence isn’t one of them.” He says.

i stay silent i could care less about his opinion about me, my head is reeling with the need to know if he will actually defend and sanitize someone that trolled a kid online.

“Just imagine if that was your daughter that was bullied online.” I say to him.

“This is a business and to keep it going i want you to take the remainder of the day off and go figure out your place here because my patience is running dry.” With that he starts to walk back to the room before he stops and turns to say a final thing. “Consider that a final warning.” He disappears into the room.

I should probably be pissing him off more to be getting off from work.

******

Every Wednesday i have dinner with my father and his family. It is never a pleasant thing but it is the right thing to do.

I can feel my father’s stare burning through my head. Jenny, my father’s young wife joins us on the table, she flashes me a fake smile. She is the same age as me, 29.  I hate her. She only cares for herself and only loves my father’s pocket.  i can say she feels the same towards me as she reminds me I am an old unmarried bitter maiden that is just envious of her.

“Katerina.” She says.

“Jenny.”  i say too.

“I asked you a question.” My father says.

i was hoping my silence would deviate him from asking more question it is the same question he asks every time i visit him.

“I asked you why you are here?” He repeats himself.

“We always have dinner together every Wednesday.” i respond as Sammy, her thirteen year old son,  he walks in cautiously like he wishes his presence is invincible. He sits beside my father. I always feel sorry for him. I know how my father is.

“it was a tradition When you were married. i always tell you can only share a table with me when you are under a man’s authority.” He says.

“Like that will happen at her age.” Jenny says under her breath and i ignore her.

I always dread seeing him but, no matter what, i have to see him and know how is health is. He suffered a stroke five years. His healing has been slow and i fear he may never go back to normal.

“I now have a job and I am under a man authority.” i crack a joke just  hide myself from his  disdain. 

“You won’t need one if you were married and who is crazy enough to hire you?”

“I wonder too.” Jenny concurs with him.

“Christian Thorne.” i find myself saying.

Jenny scoffs, “A high school drop out.” 

“Your insolence won’t change the fact i do.” i reply.  I turn to Sammy, “You can never guess who i met, Dunk kid.”

His eyes shoot up to the ceiling, he is about to speak until he sees the expression on my father’s face and he shuts up.  “What kind of name is Dunk kid?” he enquires.

“He is a popstar kid and Mr. Thorne client.” i don’t know why i am sharing all these, the other days i walk in, sit and smile as my father’s words burn through me. Check if all his medication is still available and ensure he takes them before i leave again.

To my relieve and Sammy’s, one of the maids brings over the meal. Of course, she a new one, the longest time a maid ever worked for Jenny is two weeks. They come as they go. I am surprised that my father has been lenient with Jenny. He would remind me that he would never hire anyone to pick up my shit. I became self sufficient very early in my life.

The meal is eaten in absolute silence, my father hates people talking as they eat. He says there is a place and time for that.

The dinner finally comes to end, we never have any dessert. My father hates anything wheat and sugar related. He would tell me that it would make me fat and mess with my hormones. I head to his office to find his medicine. I still doubt that Jenny takes care of him, she shows no concern unless it is money she wants. My father has no problem with her munching his wallet, it is a man’s job to provide to woman that can submit to him.

When i turn, i find him by the door.

“i have a friend that is looking to date for marriage. Such opportunities don’t come twice.”

“Father, i have no intention of ever getting married again.” I say though my voice shakes as i speak. Despite being an adult, he still had effect on me.

“It is not up for debate if you still want me to allow you back here.” He limps inside.

He knew well my fears since my mother left and he always used my unhealthy co dependency on him as a tool to manipulate me. I was aware of his tactics and i could do nothing.

“How about i find myself someone i fancied.”

He shakes his head, “That will not work again.” He says.

“I am not doing the all marriage thing again.” i say as i place his dose of medicine on his desk. “I will see you next week.” i walk past him.

“Don’t come back here without a man.” He says.

It is the usual goodbye i get from him, it was worse before the stroke. He would lock me out and i wasn’t allowed at his business. A part of me thinks he loves me in his own way.