The Way Things Are

“I hate these parties, they’re always so fake and exhausting.”

I turn around slowly, carefully pocketing the flask I was using to enhance the flavorless punch sitting amidst an incessant sea of cakes, cookies, and assorted charcuterie meat and cheese boards. 

As I turn, my nostrils are ambushed with a cloyingly sweet and spicy scent so strong that I clear my throat in order to subdue the gag threatening to make an unwelcome appearance. 

“It’s Charlie, right? I’m Claire, I work in IT” Claire extends a surprisingly manicured hand, her nails painted a deep red color.

“I prefer Charles,” I say while shaking her hand, looking down at her. She stands only a few inches shorter than me, but her hunched shoulders make her shrink closer to the ground. Her face shows pretty features that have been diluted by hardships life has handed to her. Her flowing dress sleeves, reveal three faded white scars running up the length of her arm. She notices and quickly pulls her hand away, her face flush with red that matches her nails. 

“S-sorry, I just assumed since Winston usually refers to you as Charlie and I’ve never gotten a chance to talk to you before now” her voice trails off as she starts chewing on her bottom lip and picking off the red polish, one flake at a time. 

“Winston is an ass, who thinks it’s okay to harass people, without consent. He calls Judy, in operations, Juicy Judy and she’s filed multiple unresolved complaints about it. No doubt, he gets off on the power play.” On cue, a loud “Whoooo! Let’s get this shit lit!” erupts from the middle of the room, where a dance floor, too small for the room, made of gray and black checkered tile stands. Winston is shuffling his feet, thrusting his hands in the air, unfazed as his drink spills onto his white shirt. 

Claire makes a noise between a gasp and a giggle. “Hey! I don't know if, um, you’d be interested but, I don’t know, I thought maybe you’d want to dance with me? She lets out a rushed sigh, gives me a sheepish smile, showing off lipstick stuck on her two front teeth. “I’m not much of a dancer, I’m just here for the free food,” I say, which is only partly true. The blood rushes to her face again, as she backs away, the small bout of confidence disappearing with each step “Oh yeah, of course…I just thought...um I have to go to the restroom, it was nice seeing you, bye!” 

The truth is I came to this dreadful party, for one reason, and it wasn’t the free food. I set my gaze towards the dance floor again and like a snake charmer, the DJ plays a mix of old pop songs, the melody hypnotizing the room, pulling everyone to the center of the room in synch. 

There I see good ol’ Winston air spanking his secretary Pam. They turn to face each other, their bodies tangled together, the liquid courage coursing through their veins making them abandon any attempt at hiding their affair. 

Next to them is Martha, the head HR rep, and office gossip. She’s swaying from side to side her platinum blonde curls threatening to escape the bun sitting precariously atop her head. I recognize her signature bun from the last time I spoke with her.

“It’s best to just not worry about these types of things hunny. I’m sure they’ll work it out” she said to me as I sat in her office, twisting in the chair across from her. “This is not a misunderstanding, I heard Stephanie yell “Get off!” and I saw her stumble out the boardroom, her shirt ripped, with Winston running out after her." I said as the heat built up in my voice. “Whoa no need to get upset there suga, I’ll file your complaint alongside Stephanie’s. But these things always work themselves out, one way or another” she said while winking at me. “But if I were you, I would leave it be,” she adds quietly. 

I didn’t leave it alone. 

By the end of the week, Stephanie’s desk was empty. So I went to visit her a couple of weeks after work, to see how she was holding up. She opened the door wearing sweats and a stained shirt hanging off her shoulders. I gently stepped over empty bottles of vodka and cranberry juice littered on the floor. 

“How are you feeling?” I ask as I push a pile of dirty clothes over to sit down.

“Fine” She says.

“I haven’t heard anything back from HR about the complaint, have you?” I ask. 

She lets out a grunt and twisted laugh, “ Don’t hold your breath. Just let it go, Charles, we don’t get a say in how this turns out.” 

“You can fight this Steph, go to the police” I urge.

“And what, have them laugh at me as I’m forced to retell what he did to me? And then what, huh? I can’t take him to court. “ She yells, her puffy red eyes swelling with tears.

I went to work the next day and sent a copy of the police report I filed to Winston with the HR department CC’d on it. I was called into the conference room within the next 5 minutes. As I walked down the hall, heads turned my way looking at me with a mix of sympathy and disdain. Like me, they've all been complacent pawns in Winston's game.

I sat across from Winston, Martha, and Richard, the firms lawyer. 

“Charlie, my man, I expect this sort of theatrics from one of the birds but not from you.” Winston says with a stupid smile plastered on his face. 

“My name is Charles, and you need to answer for what you did to her” I sneer. 

“Anything that happened, she wanted it, case closed.” He laughs and starts to light a cigarette. 

“Mhm” Richard, a short man with a bad toupee clears his throat and says “Mr. Spears does not acknowledge any ill will between him and Ms. Thompsom. Nevertheless, he has attempted to rectify the situation. He’s been very generous with his resolution and she has refused.” 

“You mean you tried to pay her off” I scoff, feeling my cheeks get red. “You can’t just keep throwing money at these women and make things go away! You think you're invincible but the police will be investigating this matter.” I exclaim loudly. 

Winston exhales a puff of smoke, grunts, and then slaps a hand on Martha's thigh. "Looks like you have some balls, but as sweet Martha can tell ya, I have bigger ones."

Martha stiffens and quickly looks down.

“Mr. Baxter, it seems that this has become a hostile work relationship and your services are no longer needed here at Spears and Co. Martha here has a formal written notice of your termination and several reasons listed on how this decision came to be.” Richard says in a sharp and curt tone. 

That was last month.

Stephanie was right, the police were no help. We quickly found out that Winston spends his Saturday afternoons golfing with the Commissioner. And his good ol' boy connections have made sure that we’re both blackballed from every law firm in the city. 

Help! Oh my gosh help him!! Winston are you okay?” I’m awakened out of my thoughts by the sound of Pam yelling. Winston is clutching his throat, his eyes red and bulging. People are starting to surround him, as he grasps for air and eventually falls to the ground. 

Pam continues to scream for help until her voice chokes and starts reaching toward her throat. She looks out into the crowd, searching for someone to help her as she gags and falls to her knees. The DJ cuts the music and panic slowly breaks out, the music now replaced with a chorus of people gagging and screaming. 

I start making my way through the crowd of people running, trying to desperately escape their fate. As I push through the double doors, walking down the stairs, I run into Claire. She’s putting out what looks like a brown cigarette with an earthy aroma. 

Between coughs, she says “It sounds pretty wild in there. Are you leaving already?” 

I stop mid walk, feeling exhilarated, and say “You seem nice Claire. Don’t drink the punch.”