Page 25 of Corporate Escapades

After dinner, the foursome met at the pool. The group conversed very little. They swam some laps and then soaked quietly in the hot tub. Paris could not bring herself to talk about the workday. Vic didn’t seem to have much desire to discuss it either. Mya and Chase chattered with each other and paused now and then to include Paris and Vic, with little luck. After Paris finished in the hot tub, she pulled a bottle of tequila out of her beach bag and took a big swig. She noted Vic was watching her every move. “Want some?” she asked.

“Please,” he replied as he approached her. Sitting down, he grabbed the bottle. They sat together quietly, watching Mya and Chase. They each thought about the things they’d done to end up where they were at that moment, slogging down tequila and feeling numb to the world.

The next morning, they met at the office at 7:30. Paris planned to do the job and keep her mouth shut. If she could do that, perhaps the board would promote her the following week. She had high hopes of returning to her previous lifestyle. She made it through her second day, as well as the rest of the week, without so much as a hiccup. Tonya told her she was doing great. She felt pleased with herself.

Vic was another story. Day two went well, but by day three, he was bored. He began slacking and pawning his duties off on other mailroom clerks. He disappeared during the day, and no one knew where he was. His lunch breaks lasted more than an hour. Paris ignored Vic’s actions, or rather inaction, and went about her job like it was the best job in the world. By the end of the week, Tonya was none too happy with Vic. Paris was certain that he would be in trouble come Monday.

Friday night Paris left work with a sense of accomplishment. She knew she had performed her job to the utmost of her ability. She had been praised by several of her coworkers, which made her feel good. It had been a long time since she’d been praised by anyone. She felt oddly successful.

“What are you doing the rest of the evening?” Paris asked Vic as they, along with Mya and Chase, trudged back to their apartments.

“I have a date,” he beamed. “I’m seeing Janel Maren.”

“Your ex?” asked Mya. “Why? I thought you two were through months ago?” The look on her face was pure disgust. Mya had never cared for Janel, which was saying something.

“Well, I guess she couldn’t stay away.” And then, with a grin, he added, “She likes what I'm giving her.”

“Ew, gross,” ejected Paris. “I don't want to think about that.”

“Be careful,” cautioned Mya. “I don’t trust her.”

Vic glared back at Mya. “What could she do?” he asked.

“Trust me, she’s a woman. She’ll find something to do,” said Paris.

“Um, Vic, doesn’t she work for the Flores Press?” asked Chase.

“Oh, yeah, I think she started there last month, if I recall correctly?” he replied.

“There's your something,” Chase said with concern. “You don’t want her writing about your current situation, do you?”

Brushing him aside, Vic said, “She would never do that. I know her well. We dated for a year and a half. She’d never try to hurt me on purpose.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” said Mya. “Still, be careful.”

“Didn’t you cheat on her?” asked Paris.

“That was a misunderstanding,” replied Vic, “and none of your business.”

“Does she know you cheated on her?” asked Chase.

“I didn’t cheat on her. We unknowingly had different views about our relationship status,” said Vic. “Anyway, enough of this. I’m changing clothes and heading out.” He exited the elevator and headed for his place.

“Paris,” asked Mya, “what are you doing this evening?”

“I think I’ll curl up with the book I’ve been carrying around in my purse,” she replied.

“That sounds nice. Call me if you want to hang out,” said Mya with sincerity.

“I doubt it. My current situation changes nothing,” she commented.

“Okay, then,” said Chase with a look of disgust, “I guess we’ll see you Monday.”

Paris went into her apartment and closed the door behind her. She was tired of the people surrounding her. She would eat a salad, grab a glass of wine, and curl up on the couch with her book. The perfect Friday night. Well, almost perfect. She no longer had her own personal whirlpool, so she couldn’t properly soak the week's stressors away unless she wanted to sit down by the pool with the other residents staring at her and wondering what went wrong.No, thank you very much,she thought.

Chapter seven

The weekend came and went, and Paris and Vic both managed to stay out of trouble, or so they thought. On Monday, at six in the morning, the God-forsaken racket of drilling, pounding, and grinding once again jolted the pair awake. It was impossible to ignore the clank, clank, clank, emitting from the apartment across the hall.

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