The Layers of His Mask

3. Oops, Did I Bump Your Cart?

The week before my internship had to be the longest week in history. I did everything I could possibly think of to pass the time.

Monday, I attended a Zumba class at my gym with Hannah and Violet. The class had us dancing like wild women – well, mostly Hannah. Hannah seems to have no sort of rhythm whatsoever. She struggled quite a bit to keep up with us.

Tuesday night Violet, Hannah, and I went down to a new singing lounge - literally called The Lounge - and checked out all the different performers. It’s funny because I thought that they would honestly suck, but they quickly changed my mind about the whole experience. I mean come on everyone at one point thinks that they have a golden voice, and everyone sounds good singing in the shower and what not. And the food there, it was worth the visit.

Wednesday, I went and worked for my dad at his restaurant since he decided to keep the place open until twelve a.m.

I know his menu like the back of my hand, so it wasn’t much of a challenge when I hopped right back in the kitchen. I did however find myself becoming extremely overwhelmed by the constant tickets flying through, but, I somehow managed to calm myself down enough after taking a breather from the continuous hustle and bustle and got back in there to finish up the night.

Thursday consisted of me sleeping the day away, eating, and lazing around my apartment in my pajamas. Violet and Hannah came over to visit and we did a marathon of Game of Thrones. We watched all the seasons non-stop, only pausing to grab a snack or use the bathroom.

Violet hated the idea at first because she thought the show was stupid, yet she had never actually seen an episode of it. She didn’t get why the show - as she called it - was ‘hyped up’ and why there was a girl running around with three dragons. I told her, "she is Daenerys Targaryen, called Daenerys Stormborn, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, Khaleesi of the Dothraki, and first of her name. She is the daughter of King Aerys II Targaryen and his Queen Rhaella." By the end of the last season she was absolutely hooked, and my mission had been accomplished. I gave myself a complimentary pat on the shoulder.

Friday rolled around and that meant Monday would be here sooner than I thought. I made my weekly trip to the grocery store since our Game of Thrones marathon had my fridge running on empty. I threw on some sweats before I left and put my hair up into a messy bun - driving down to Publix. I pull out the grocery list that I had compiled before coming here. I typically have my meals planned out for the week, so I always know exactly what I'm cooking. Since today is Friday, Publix always has plentiful samples available around the store, they will surely hold me over until I leave.

I stop by one stand that is sampling pan fried salmon with horseradish mashed potatoes, and mesclun greens. The dish tasted so insanely good that I had to grab a recipe card. I also added the ingredients to my shopping list. Swiveling my cart around, I'm not paying attention at all to who might be behind me. I crash my cart into someone’s and start apologizing substantially. “I’m so, so, sorry.” My eyes shoot up to the person standing in front of me.

Oh, my goodness, why? It had to be Alex, seriously? “I’m -” his stunning presence renders me speechless. The way his red, black, and white basketball shorts are hanging loose on his hips and the undershirt is hugging every muscle on his chest and abdomen just the right way.

“You’re sorry, I get it,” he chuckles. "Apology accepted. We've already established you have a low sense of awareness."

"Well thank you for stating the obvious," I respond, getting increasingly irritated by the second.

And the magic is gone.

How does this man manage to be an ass even in the public eye? Then again, he’s probably like this all the time. I walk around him, briskly making my way to aisle seven which contains the cereal and other breakfast items.

"Rebecca!" He shouts behind me. I disappear around a corner, hoping to lose him.

I stop in the next aisle, catching my breath for a minute and return to the initial aisle I intended to come to. I browse the rows and rows of cereal and can't seem to make up mind on whether I want Captain Crunch or Lucky Charms.

“Becca?” I hear a cheerful, but oh so familiar, voice call.

“Violet!” I squeal, enveloping her in bear like embrace. “What are you doing here? Usually you and Hannah shop together. Where is she?”

“She had to work today - thank goodness - so I’m doing all the shopping. I sort of like shopping by myself though, there is no one here to toss unnecessary things into my cart. That girl is like a kid in the candy store when she comes here.” She shakes her head at the memories. “Anyway, what are you doing here?”

“Well, after our GOT marathon my fridge was looking like a barren wasteland so I thought it would be best if I went shopping.”

“Oh, my goodness I’m so sorry, Becca. Here,” she reaches into her purse and pulls out a fifty-dollar bill.

I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. Really. My account is looking pretty hefty right now. My dad made a deposit after I specifically told him not to, and he won’t let me give it back. What better way to spend it than on food?” I smile.

“So true, my friend. So true.”

“Rebecca,” a breathless voice pants. I turn around and see Alex, panting and stone features set in place.

“Wow, what happened to you? Did you run a marathon?” Violet asks, looking at him with a horrified expression.

“You could say that,” he replies between clenched teeth, his eyes darting back and forth between me and Violet.

“Why did you just run off like that?” He asks me, having the gall to look annoyed.

I ignore him and turn back to face Violet. “Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?”

“Rebecca,” Alex hisses at me. I can’t believe he is still standing there; can’t he take a hint?

“Are you really just going to pretend like I’m not standing here? That’s quite childish, you know.” I glance over at him and I swear he almost looks like he’s smiling. No, smirking is more like it. Violet is looking at both of us like we’ve both just got out of the loony bin.

“Alex, I am trying to have a conversation here. Can you take your little temper tantrum elsewhere?” I smile as bright as sunshine at him and he narrows his eyes at me. But surprisingly, he admits defeat and walks away from us into the next aisle. As he turns away, a pit forms in my stomach and my throat feels tight, a dead indication that I am experiencing the feeling of guilt.

I grab two boxes of Captain Crunch and toss - throw is a more accurate description - them into the cart.

"What the hell was that?" Violet questions, brows furrowed in confusion.

"That was me being the total b***h that I am," I quietly admit, more to myself than to the best friend standing in front of me.

"You two, I swear are made for each other."

"Um, no. And now he's going to make my life a living hell come Monday thanks to my verbal diarrhea."

"Yeah, I've never seen you talk to any stranger like that. Usually you do the total opposite. What makes him so different?"

"He laughs at almost everything I do. He takes me as a joke."

"In his defense, you wouldn't let him get a word in." Violet makes the look of sympathy on her face a permanent home, throwing in a small smile to try and relieve the guilt I feel.

"I've got to go. I have to stop by Romano’s today to fill out some paperwork. I'll call you later," I mutter.

"Okay, later girl."

I finish off the remainder of my shopping and head home to put up my groceries and change into a more sensible outfit. I decide on some jeans and a button up shirt. I don’t want to look like a complete reject in front of Laura Crossman. I grab my flats and head out the door. When I arrive to Romano’s the parking lot is fairly empty for a Friday. Usually this place would be packed with a variety of vehicles. Then again, it is only ten a.m. they haven’t even opened for lunch as of yet. I knock on the glass of the door and wait for the familiar hostess to come and unlock it. She smiles at me and then her smile slowly fades once she realizes who I am. That disgruntled look reappears on her face and I want to slap it right off.

“How can I help you today?”

“I’m here to see Laura Crossman,” I state, feeling awkward about how chill she is being even though she clearly just murdered me inside her mind.

“Laura is in a meeting at the moment. If you want to wait a couple of hours, she’ll be done then?”

"I actually have something to do in a few hours, I was hoping this wouldn’t take very long. Is there anyone else I can sign the paperwork with?”

“I’ll call Laura and ask. Hold one second.” she picks up the desk phone and dials a short set of numbers. Pressing the phone to her ear, a voice picks up on the other line after a few seconds. “Hi, Ms. Crossman, there is a Rebecca Daniels here to see you... I’m aware you are in a meeting, but she says that she has something to do later on so she won’t be able to come back. Okay. Okay. I’ll let her know.” she hangs up the phone and looks to me. “She says that Chef Brooks will administer your paperwork. Are you familiar with the way to get to his office?”

“Yes, thank you.” I walk down the narrow hall and through the kitchen to the office where I first had my interview. The door is slightly ajar, so I knock on it lightly.

“Come in,” I hear him say, his voice alone sounds agitated, and I feel as if me blessing him with my presence will only make it worse. After all, we did leave on a sour note at the grocery store earlier today.

I walk in and immediately lock eyes with him when he glances up to see it’s me he is waiting on. A look of pure befuddlement and one I can’t quite decipher - vexation maybe - sweeps across his face. One of the many layers of his mask. He gestures to the seat in front of him with the sweep of his hand and I take a seat, cautiously lowering myself down into it. I want to tell him how sorry I am, but I feel like me apologizing will only make the matter at hand that much worse, so I keep my big mouth shut.

He shoves a pile of papers toward me and I pick them up, staring down at them, unsure as to what exactly he wants me to sign. “Um,” I mutter, looking at the papers and then looking back at him.

He huffs out a breath of irritation and leans forward. “The first set of papers are your W-4 forms. Those are so the IRS can remove the necessary taxes from your check. Next is the employment verification worksheet and the new hire reporting forms. More necessary papers for you to fill out,” I nod along with him as I continue to skim through each of the documents he mentions. “After that you have your benefits forms if you choose to enroll. We have vision, dental, and health insurance available along with sick time, personal time, and a week’s paid vacation after one year of employment.”

We sit in silence for a whole two hours while I fill out the paper work. It was like an endless pile of papers that had no sign of coming to a close. It was now twelve in the afternoon and I really needed to go soon. I’m supposed to pick up my brother Timothy from the airport and I don’t want to be late. I quickly scribble down the last of my signatures and hand the papers back to him. He skims through to see that I filled out all the information correctly. Next, he asks me for my driver’s license and social security card, making a copy of each of them. After that I’m free to go and pause with my hand on the knob. I really should apologize. Be the better woman -well man - in this situation Rebecca, I tell myself. “I’m sorry, Alex.” I look back at him and he has his intense stare focused on the papers in front of him, and not on me. I am sort of grateful for this because if it was on me, I’d probably melt into a pile of nothing under his gaze.

“It’s fine Rebecca. Just go,” he replies, way too calmly.

“I’m trying to apologize here. You could at least look at me.” He raises from his seat and my heart is pounding wildly in my chest when he stalks up to me and opens the door.

“See you Monday, Rebecca. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.” I gawk at him. He just pushed me out.

I’m sitting here trying to reconcile for my bitchy behavior and he won’t even let me do that.

“Yeah, whatever,” I mutter as I push past him to exit the room. He slams it shut shortly after and I stare at the door a couple of seconds before I walk back out the restaurant.

I drive straight to the airport after and wait on my brother Timothy to make an appearance. I spot his head and hop out the car, running up to hug him. I crash into him and he drops his bags to wrap his arms around me. “Well hello to you too,” he says, chuckling.

“Hi!” I snivel, wrapping my arms around him even tighter.

It’s been so long since I’ve seen my brother - two years to be exact. He got married and moved to South Carolina to live with his now wife. He didn’t inform anyone of his plans, he just uprooted his whole life and moved away to be with the woman he loved.

“I missed you,” he confesses, pulling away from me. “I’m sorry that we didn’t come for Christmas.”

“All that matters is that you’re here now,” I say.

Holidays were always a big thing for our family, especially when Timothy and I were growing up. Now that we are older, I have taken on the tradition of hosting all the holiday celebrations. For the past two years all I have received from Timothy and his wife is a Christmas card, wishing me well and giving me another excuse for why they couldn’t possibly leave South Carolina. I didn’t want to mess up the first real relationship my brother has ever had, so I kept my mouth shut and mailed them homemade cookies on Christmas and pumpkin pie cupcakes for Thanksgiving. But now he’s back home and I have no idea why, but I’m afraid to ask him because I don’t want him to shut me out again. So instead I just smile when he jumps in the car - as if everything in the world is perfectly fine - we make small talk and listen to the sounds of Echosmith while I drive us home.