Mask

Chapter 4

“Momma get up, we're going to be late,” my eight-year-old daughter said waking me from a recurring dream I'd had since the moment it happened. Ten years ago, I had been reckless enough to sleep with a complete strange whose face I never saw, but who made s*x with everyone else feel lame. That night had also left me pregnant with said man's child because apparently there was no condom, or it broke I was still unsure but at the same time grateful because without him I wouldn’t of had my beautiful daughter Imani who was staring at me with those same gray eyes as her father, trying to get me out of bed.

Sighing I rose to a seated position in my king size bed and said, “I'm up. Give me 10 minutes.”

“Okay,” she said, before taking off out the room and probably towards hers or the kitchen.

I shook my head then pulled back my comforter, swung my legs to the side of the bed and stood up. I stumbled as I made my way to my master bathroom then turned on the light to look at myself in the mirror. I looked a mess. The scarf that I had been wearing to tie down my hair was no longer on my head probably fell off while I was sleeping. I'm not normally a wild sleepier but whenever I'd have that dream, I’d always end up destroying the bed and this time wasn't any different.

After the quickest shower of my life, I got dress then applied a touch of make-up. I didn’t need it but as the CEO of my father's company Thorton, I had to look the part. I had to give the impression of a cold hearted b***h or people would walk all over me because of my age and gender. It was bad enough that the board members were all middle aged men, who believed women should be in the kitchen bare foot and pregnant and that I had only gotten the job because of my father. That was bullshit. After I found out I was pregnant with Imani in my seventh month, he threatened to disown me if I let her get in the way of my studies. So like everyone else in that company I worked my ass off from the bottom up.

“Come on mom,” Imani said, as we made our way out the door and to my Buick. I was not looking forward to the day. I had a lunch meeting scheduled with one of the most obnoxious men I had ever met, DeAndre Washingon. He was the Director of finance at Fase which was one of the largest accountant firms in the country, not to mention the son of the chairman of said company. My father introduced us about a year ago at a company meeting. He said that DeAndre would be handling our accounts personally and at first I was okay with it. He was tall caramel, with beautiful brown eyes that I found myself getting lost in. And God that man looked good in a suit. Then like an i***t I agreed to go on one date/business dinner with this i***t and all the feelings and fantasies I had for him went away. He was rude, talked about himself in the third person, and was very touchy feelly. I damn near broke his finger when he “accidentally” touched my thigh. As if that was an accident. Since then, he has been looking for any excuse to be alone with me, including this lunch that I was dredging.

If only he'd get hit by a car. I thought as I started the engine and drove the ten miles to my daughter's school already ready for the day to be over. “I'll send Jo to come pick you up at 3, I have a lot of work to do today,” I said as I dropped her off at Saint Bolin elementary. It was the most expensive school in Albuquerque, but it was worth it for the education I knew she'd be getting.

“okay see you later mom,” she said before kissing me goodbye and exiting the car to catch up with her friends. I smiled then closed the door behind her before driving off for what I knew would be a long day at the office.

**************************************************************************************************************

Jeremih's

“You got this,” I told my reflection as I got ready for another day of work at Fase. I was the assistant to the assistant of the Director of finance and decided that this would be the day I asked for a raise. For the past five years I had worked my ass off in that company. I even did the Director's job for him and better than him because he lied about a sick aunt and passed it on to his assistant who passed it on to me. I wanted to complain, but how can I complain when my boss was the son of the chairman and one wrong move could put me permanently out of business in this state and 14 others that Fase had pull in.

After assuring myself one more time, I walked out the bathroom got dress then headed to work. The moment I turned on my car my phone rang. I didn’t even have to look at it to know it was my boss Anthony. It was like clockwork

“Yes sir,” I asked as I started up the car.

“You better be sitting at your desk or walking into the office Davis, Mr. Washington needs that proposal now,” he growled.

I sighed, then said, “I'm ten minutes away sir I will be there before Mr. Washington gets in,” I assured him as I sped through traffic. I wasn't supposed to be there until 7:30 however, with a boss like mine 7:30 became 6:00 not to mention the long weekends I had to give up in order to work on their projects.

“10 minutes is too long Davis. Mr. Washington has a very important meeting this morning,” he warned.

As if that would get me there faster. What I wanted to say was “Maybe Mr. Washington should try doing his work, then he'll have it when he needs it.” But of course, I didn’t say that. I couldn't if I wanted to keep my job and despite how f****d up my current boss and his boss were, the job itself was cool. Perfect for someone who graduated with honors from Harvard in accounting and marketing. “I understand sir. I'm sorry.” I said trying to sound like I meant it. How could I feel sorry for not being in a place I didn’t have to go to for another hour?

“I don’t want to hear “I'm sorry,” Davis, I want to hear “I've placed the proposal on Mr. Washington’s desk and now I'm working on the Thorton account,” he yelled.

I just rolled my eyes. Thorton was our biggest client. The moment our chairman signed them as a client, our stocks doubled and everyone got a bonus. DeAndre told his father that he would work on the account personally; however, the only thing he did with the account was take credit for my hard work. As if he knew the difference between a gross and net. “Of course, sir, I’ve just arrived at the office I’m on my way up now,” I said as I pulled into the deserted garage in front of the office and turned off my engine.

“You better be,” he said before hanging up on me.

“You better be,” I mocked, as I got out the car and headed towards the double doors a few feet in front of me. It was always the same conversation, he’d call just to tell me I need to get to work to do someone else’s job and like a slave I’d obey, because let’s face it I had no choice. I needed the money to help my mom and sister back home in Miami and to pay off my student loans, which were close to $30,000 and this job was paying me $60,000 a year. Sighing I got on the elevator and made my way up to the 11th floor ready for another uneventful day at work.