Page 36 of Open for Negotiation
“I’m going,” she sniffs back tears then turns on her heel just as security approaches. They make to grab her by the arms, to physically escort her out, but Max holds up his hand, stopping them.
“She can go of her own accord, just go with her. If she makes a fuss, then you can call the police.” He sighs heavily, like the next phrase is going to pain him to even say. “If she comes back on the premises, call the police and have her arrested for trespassing.”
Max
The office is heavy for the rest of the day once Miranda is gone.
I try to get back to work, back to business as usual, because that’s what everyone else needs from me and needs to do themselves, but I can’t.
Miranda is getting worse, diving firmly off the deep end, but I can’t just give her what she wants and completely ignore my happiness and needs because of her issues and her situation.
It’s taken me months of therapy to even be able to say that to myself.
She is certainly not making it any easier. Not on me or herself.
My cell phone pings next to my keyboard with an incoming text. Scarlett’s name flashes there, pulling me from my thoughts. God, even seeing her name is like a light in the room.
Scarlett: Are you all right?
Me: I am. I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m sorry all of you did.
Scarlett: You shouldn’t be apologizing for her actions.
Me: But she’s my problem.
Scarlett: No, she’s not. She’s her own problem. You can’t control her.
Me: You handled her well. Thank you for not exploding on her. She was goading you. Trying to cause a reaction.
Scarlett: I won’t ever do anything to make things worse for you, Max.
The three dots appear again immediately, telling me she’s writing even more.
Scarlett: I wanted to come check on you, but with what she said in front of everyone, I didn’t think that was a good idea.
Me: That was the right call. I’ve noticed more eyes than normal glance toward my door.
Scarlett: Can I see you this weekend?
Me: Try to keep me away.
Scarlett: :) I should get back to work. Wouldn’t want the boss catching me on my cell.
Me: Yeah, I’ve heard he’s an ass.
Scarlett: He may be an ass, but he’s got a cute one.
Just like that, the anxiety of Miranda is washed away by the peace that comes with Scarlett, but it doesn’t last for long, because the moment I take a breath, my brother comes waltzing into my office.
“Um, the hot brunette at the front desk just told me what happened. Said I missed one hell of a scene,” he says, plopping down in the chair across from me.
“Sure, make yourself at home, Jackson. No need to knock or anything. My office is your office,” I say with sarcasm so thick you could cut it with a knife.
“Hey, that’s how it’s always been, right? Even when we were little, Mom made you give me anything I wanted, which was usually whatever you had.”
“Mom just loved you more. It’s as simple as that,” I joke.
“I mean, doesn’t everyone?” He laughs. “But really, what the hell happened?”
