"If you do this Calloway, I promise to will sponsor you on a three day trip to Honolulu."
Almost everyone gasps in surprise as Mr Carlson says that offer. Laurel clears her throat. "I didn't tell you guys, but I have been seeing a therapist these past few weeks. I can now handle my stage fright."
"No you cannot. You are just after the trip." Raymond calls her out.
Laurel grits. "No am not!"
I can't help but hear Laurel and Raymond arguing even though my mind's not there. I am weighing how much of a great offer it is. I have never been on a vacation. I thought I would soon have one after my wedding—which is now cancelled. But three days is too little for a vacation.
"Not three days, but one week." I stipulated.
Mr Carlson's face lit up. "You are going to do it?"
"It's not like I have a choice." I shrug. "But I will have if you don't agree."
"Fine, one week it is. Let's hurry up. We only have a few minutes left."
"You got this Gweneth. You always have." I mutter in self-motivation outside the blurred double glass doors. I take a deep breath and smooth mild creases on my shirt before pushing the doors open. I fight a shudder against the cold temperature blasting from the AC. I look straight ahead. Ignoring the crowd of men seated according to hierarchy at the large table. I Walk with my back straight and my chin up. A girl's gotta look confident even though she is not. That is the number one rule I share with new interns that I like. Keep your mind and focus sharp on the subject. Don't look in the eyes of anyone for more than a split second because that short eye contact moment can ruin your focus. I know that from experience. I once cried in this very conference room when I fumbled on a briefing. One of the executives said that I did not belong in a large company, and that I would do better in a bar. I did not run and hide. I took it as a hurtful, constructive criticism. The next time I stood there, I delivered a smooth, and immaculate briefing. The same man commended me greatly. He said I did well on raising my confidence. I didn't do well in raising it. I just did well in masking it. In my briefings, I make sure to rule and own the room as much as the most powerful man in it does.
I stand in front of the cinematic like LED screen, that is when I raise my eyes, keeping them on no one in particular. My eyes falls on a certain someone. I instinctively center my vision on him. His piercing eyes meets mine. And breath catches in my throat. What is he doing...? Why is he here? The world slowly tilts to a stop. He is seated at the very head of the table; looking menacing, controlled and untouched like he did all those years back. I hear his menacing voice taunting me in my ears. His hands grabbing me roughly and shoving me. A cold shiver is running through my spine. It hurts to look at him. His lethally furious face fills my memory. My stomach swoops when I also recall how he made me...
They are coming all at once. The pain, the torture.
Every breath I drag into my lungs feels painful. I can't get enough air. My chest feels so tight. I began gasping. I feel a hand on my shoulder. A worried voice asking if I was okay. That brings me back a bit. Raymond's arm is hooked around my stomach, holding me up. I am too disoriented by that person's presence to be think about Raymond of all people being the one to hold me. I hear murmurings from the some of them seated.
"You don't look okay. It must be the food poisoning acting up again."
"Food poisoning?"
"Yes. She was in the hospital for that last night." Raymond answers the man who had asked.
"That's pretty serious."
"Miss, you should not come to work if you are sick. Now you're delaying the procession of the meeting. I hate wasting time."
A voice spoke disparagingly. It sounds more deeper than I remember. I look directly at him again. He is still as arrogant.
How dare he? He knows exactly why I am like this. How come the malevolent ones never die? Calyx Andre Lamont. I had written that name down countless times on cursed objects and talismans. I followed the death curse instructions from every online voodoo website. He should have been long dead and forgotten. But he is here, looking better than he was before. How come? It's funny. Even the grim reaper is now bias.
I want to insist on handling the briefing, but I can't with him here. There is a churn in my stomach. My tongue is getting slimy. I feel like I want to puke up my intestines. I quickly placed my hand over my mouth as I retch. I shove the file folders to Raymond and briskly strolled out of the conference room.