Now I feel foolish. To gaze up into Henrik’s oceanic gaze would burn that naivety into my head like a searing brand. Instead of wearing a scarlet A, I would don a frosted D for dunce, because everything goes better with frosting.
I steady my eyes on the stupid gray carpet that seems endless. Perhaps if I stare hard enough it will speak to me like everything else. Hello carpet? It's me, Morgana, I need a little help.
Nothing.
Great, so the one time I really need help from my subconscious to speak to me as an inanimate object, it’s silent. Fine! Two can play at that game.
I glare at the carpet and then lift my chin, huffing at it. That's when I realize Henrik is still staring at me, now leaning on the edge of his desk, arms folded. His rumpled blue suit and askew yellow tie combined with his disheveled coffee-colored hair, has my stomach doing somersaults all over again.
What is happening here? I want to hop up from this chair and embrace him. Snuggle into his warm, firm chest and forget any of this is happening, but I can't. It's time to admit we both fucked up. Our jobs disintegrated before our eyes because of our libido. I really need to start thinking with my brain instead of my vagina.
“I’m serious this time, no more decision making for you, Vagina.”
Vagina bats her eyelashes at me and raises her hands in shock.
“I have no idea what you are referring to Morgana? I am not solely to blame.” Vagina glares at Heart, who sneers at Vagina and lunges toward her.
“You bitch I’m going to…” I barely hear the muffled cries of Vagina as Heart attacks her.
Great, so not only is my job over, my relationship with my boyfriend disintegrating, but now my organs are reenacting the Hunger Games. I sigh, knowing the worst is yet to come. Looking into Henrik’s cloudless blue eyes, I shudder knowing what has to be done.
"No Henrik. I do care for you; it's just that maybe if we break up we might be able to salvage our jobs. Perhaps if we tell the Mimir brothers my idea about the distribution in Europe, but claim we came up with it together, we can keep our jobs. I did talk to Evaleen about it last night, but I can just tell her I forgot to mention you helped me with it. That way we can keep our jobs, but we promise not to see each other romantically anymore." I try to sound positive even though I'm not sure the Mimir brothers will accept it. Even if they did, I don't know how I will be strong enough to stay away from Henrik.
I steady my gaze on him in hopes to find some understanding or strength to help, but his eyes don't move. It’s freaky actually, as if he became a statue for a full minute. I don't even know if he is breathing.
"Henrik?" I stand to touch his shoulder but he flinches from the contact. At least I know he's alive.
"Don’t." He sighs and turns his head.
Nothing. Silence.
After a minute, he trudges to the other side of his desk. Henrik's hand grasps the top drawer as he begins to shimmy it but it's stuck, as usual. I walk over to help him.
"Here let me help..."
He cuts me off by swatting my hand away. "I can do this myself Ms. Drake!"
His tone is low, but powerful. I have only heard him talk like that once before when I overheard his conversation with the doctor who operated on Tiffany's son, David. He was angry, very angry then. Now I feel like I’m the doctor telling him that our relationship is in a coma.
The drawer opens and he takes out a piece of gum. His minty crutch. After a few chews Henrik visibly relaxes. What is in that gum? Maybe I need some. I reach into the drawer to pull out a piece, unwrap it, and pop it in my mouth. After a few bites, I can safely say that it is not heroin infused gum like I originally thought, but wintergreen. Well, at least it's good to know he isn't addicted to drugs and hiding it through his strange gum consumption.
Henrik slams the drawer and turns to me, stretching out his hand to shake.
"Well, it's been fun. Thanks for contributing to the ruin of my life. At least the sex was good."
What the fuck?
"Excuse me? Get your fucking hand away from me!" I slap it aside and he rolls his eyes.
"That's it. You said it yourself; we shouldn't see each other. What’s important here are our jobs, so we have to look at this like business partners. In business, we shake on it and talk about the good and bad, without getting emotionally involved. You should know this Ms. Drake if you want to have a chance at ever being an executive in a company."
He is smirking while folding his arms over his chest.
"You are a dick, you know that? I'm not happy that all this happened. It's not like I want to end this Henrik."
“Ah, that’s Mr. Payne to you, Ms. Drake.” There it is. He's back. The boss I first met all those months ago. The cold, unfeeling man who would rather spend the night researching historical data on marketing strategies and consumer sales growth patterns than having a normal adult conversation.
I don't like this Henrik. This Henrik can go to hell.