This Fragile Life by Kate Hewitt

Author:Kate Hewitt [Hewitt, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781472017109
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2013-08-25T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 29

MARTHA

After my conversation with Rob—we leave it unresolved, so much still unspoken—I call Alex, having no idea what I’m going to say, and am relieved when it flips over to voicemail. I don’t leave a message. I get ready for work, and all my movements are a little too quick, a little too brisk, almost manic. I smudge my eyeliner.

This same fierce energy carries me all the way to work, standing on the subway, drafting emails on my phone, full of purpose and determination. It carries me to my office, snapping orders at my assistant, shedding my coat before I’m halfway through the door. It even carries me up to answer Mark’s summons; I bailed on half a day’s work yesterday with no explanation and he wants answers.

“So, Martha.” He folds his arms, and his shirt cuff rides up so I can see the too-tight Rolex on one wrist, the deep, pink indentations it makes in his flesh. “Another family emergency?” Again with that tone of skepticism.

“As a matter of fact, Mark,” I say as mildly as I can, “yes.”

“I thought this emergency was resolved.”

“Sadly, so did I.”

“You missed an important meeting yesterday, Martha.”

For some reason, it infuriates me every time he says my name. “I regret that, Mark,” I answer, an edge to my voice, “but it was necessary.”

“Your work is slipping,” he says bluntly. “And no stupid soap video is going to change that.”

“Considering that video represents this company, I’d hardly call it stupid,” I answer before I can think better of it, and his eyes narrow. Forget my work, I’’m slipping. Slipping out of control, into an abyss of despair I can’t bear to think about.

“Watch it, Martha,” he says softly. “You might have earned a few brownie points along the way, but you’re still replaceable.”

Rage fires through me, burning away the grief, at least for this moment. “Are you threatening me? Because I could take this up with HR.”

“Just making an observation.” He looks wary now, and more furious than ever. I’m not doing myself any favors.

“Look, Mark, if you really have a problem with my work, than give me concrete examples. But if you just feel like giving me a hard time because you don’t like me, then save it. I’ve had a really tough week, okay?” To my horror and disgust, my voice wobbles. Mark smirks. And yet still, unbelievably, humiliatingly, I continue.

“My husband and I were going to adopt a baby and we’ve just found out it has a fatal genetic disorder, okay?” My voice rises to a cringe-worthy squeak. I cannot believe I am saying this. I cannot believe that, of all people, I am confiding in Mark Sheehan, boss from hell.

He just stares at me, a cold, dead-eyed stare that tells me he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about me or my troubles. He reminds me of my mother when I was a child, staring me down with cold disinterest as tears run down my face. No one wants my tears, me least of all.

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