Headache
1699 Words
BEATRICE
The meeting couldn’t be over any faster. Hearing Paul and his team talk about their new ideas for the next designs was like hearing someone drill next to my ear. His squeaky voice was causing my headache to get stronger.
Cynthia stood next to me as I sat on the chair, still massaging my temples and hoping he would just be quiet.
“Do you have anymore of those painkillers,” I asked her.
“No, you already had two of them. You have to wait at least four hours. He’s almost done anyway, so try to hold on a bit longer,” she smiled reassuringly. I had no choice but to nod, and pray to God that this whole day just went by fast.
Half an hour later, we were finally heading out of the conference room. Paul and his assistant shook our hands, kissing my knuckles as he smiled, showing off his golden tooth. A fake smile was plastered on my face, not showing him how much he annoyed me.
Seeing the elevator doors close was such a relief. I groaned, heading back to my office when I heard Hilma chuckle next to me.
“I give up with that man. If it wasn’t because he has amazing designs, he would be gone,” I mentioned.
“Don’t forget he still has a few years under contract,” she reminded me, making me groan louder. Hilma smiled, reaching for my hand to pat it softly, “you are such an amazing boss, Beatrice. Don’t let that snob get to you. By the way, Mark called. He said he landed that deal with the fashion show. He’ll be back tomorrow to explain in further details.”
Mark Nuñez, my COO. He was one of the best men to land a deal, hence the success my company has had, and it's in part, due to him.
I met him at a fundraising fashion show, my first ever to assist and from that moment, I knew he would be the best candidate to work with me.
Ladies would throw themselves at him. I couldn't say he wasn't handsome, because he was. If only he were my type, I'm sure I would be one of those girls.
His blond hair, hazel eyes and dimpled chin had even the office ladies swooning for him. But women were not his type either, and his husband was proof of it.
“Great, at least something good happened today,” I replied with a smile, walking away and into my office. Cynthia followed behind, closing the door as soon as we made it in.
“This headache is killing me,” I mentioned, sitting on my chair while leaning my head back, “and Paul didn’t help at all. He took forever to go straight to the point.”
“You need to go to the doctor, Miss Santiago…”
“Please, call me Beatrice. Or even better, Bea. I hate being called by my last name. We are friends after all, right?”
I could see the glimmer in her eyes as she nodded.
“Okay, Bea. I'm serious about the doctor, though. Do you want me to make an appointment? It’s better if you go now before you go on vacation.”
“You mean, before we go on vacation,” I cleared, looking into her eyes, only to see her blushing. Cynthia nodded before she opened the door, giving me a sweet smile.
“I will make that appointment for you,” she said, closing the door behind her.
*~*~*~*
The day was finally over, and I was already on my way out of the building when Cynthia stopped me.
“Bea, your appointment is in an hour, so you might want to head there right now,” she said, handing me a piece of paper with the appointment time.
“Thank you, I will go there now. See you tomorrow.”
Her panty dropping smile forced me to keep myself from pushing her against the receptionist desk, lift her skirt up and kneel in front of her so my mouth could have a feast.
Pulling myself out of my own dirty thoughts, I said goodbye to her and Sara before walking out of the building. My doctor’s office was just a short distance from my building, and even with how exhausted I was, I still decided to walk there.
A few minutes later, I walked into the clinic, checking in with Sophie, her receptionist. I sat down on the waiting area right after, my headache still bugging me. Not even my painkillers helped and the light bothered my eyes.
“Beatrice, nice to see you here. Come on in,” Maria urged me in. She had been my doctor since my college years, and once upon a time, we even dated.
Unfortunately, things didn't work out. Not to say she wasn't beautiful, because she is. Her brown curly hair, honey colored eyes and dark skin made her look exotic in my eyes. We just didn't have much in common, and no matter how much we tried, it just wasn't meant to be.
I walked in, kissing the corner of her mouth before she closed the door. Yes, we were still really good friends.
“How are things with you?” she asked, getting her medical tools to check on me.
“Things are fine. Business is booming, and I’m happy with my life,” I replied as I took my jacket off and sat on the bed. She walked over, standing right in front of me while studying my expression before she started checking on me.
“What brings you here?” she asked, checking on my temperature and pulse.
“Cynthia insisted I came. Been having a headache all day, and it’s not the first time it happens,” I sighed.
“She cares about you, doesn’t she?”
“I guess. She’s going on a vacation with me. We are visiting my family in Italy. They have been insisting I bring a guy home, well more Sofia than anyone. She can’t stop asking me about it.”
That stopped her on her tracks, looking at me with a concerned expression on her face. I knew what she was thinking, but didn’t mention anything as I thought the same thing. Maybe it was just a bad idea, but I was not going to arrive alone at the family gathering.
“Does Cynthia know who you are?”
“She does, I told her everything.”
“What about your parents? Do they know about your s****l preference?”
I shook my head. It’s been years and I never mentioned anything on our calls. Just thinking about their reaction made me keep my secret.
“You know you can’t hide that forever, right? And knowing you, this vacation with her will turn into something else. You’ll see.”
I didn’t need her advice, just for her to make my headache go away. As she kept checking and asking me questions, she came to the conclusion that it might all be due to stress. To be honest, between my parents and my social life, I have been feeling a bit off, but it was good to know Cynthia as my assistant, always kept me on track.
I just wished she did the same in my personal life. The many times I think about her at night, touching myself while moaning her name, and even in the office, when the torture of holding myself back from doing unimaginable things to her.
After prescribing some painkillers, she sent me off, warning me about the trip and how I should be honest with my parents.
All I wanted was for it to be over so I could come back to my life. Knowing Dad, he would try to convince me to take over for him. But Francis was the “better” candidate, and now that he is fifteen, Dad can just show him the reins and get him ready when the time comes.
Not me…
I arrived at my condo and turned the lights on, just at the same time I saw her on the couch.
“What the hell are you still doing here?” I asked, irritated.
“I couldn’t leave. Beatrice, I want you and I was hoping we could have something more than s*x. Please, give me a chance to make you happy,” she said. I looked at her and she had nothing but a towel wrapped around her body, her hair wet as if she had just taken a shower, expecting me to come back.
“You have some nerve. What we had was just a one night stand, and I am not interested in entertaining you any further. So please, put on your clothes and leave, I am too exhausted to deal with you.”
She stood up, approaching me before she kissed my lips. I pushed her away, wiping my lips and grabbing her by the arms, not giving a s**t about her naked body under that towel as I pushed her out the door, slamming it shut.
“Beatrice! Come on, don’t do this to me! I love you!” She shouted from behind the door. I scoffed. How can she have feelings for me if we have nothing? Just plain, old s*x and that’s the way I wanted it with her.
But now, it was getting boring. I had no mind for any of that mess. All I could focus was on bringing a present for the baby’s baptism and dealing with my family as well, not to mention how I was going to tell my parents that I wasn’t bringing a man home.
Just when I thought my life was complicated, this had to be the cherry on top of the cake.
- Writer
