Barbie with a Murderous Smile

***Actually meant for the last contest, but I didn't get to submit it in time. For contest #179 End your story with a kiss at midnight.

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“Here comes your Ken, Barbie.”

I roll my eyes. Abbey’s reference to Spencer and me was laughable. And just because we were both blonde, she’s now calling us Barbie and Ken. I turn around. Spencer is, in fact, walking towards us. 

“I’m not looking for a relationship, guys.”

Hannah snorts. “Says the person who’s been eyeing every hot guy on the street like it was a piece of juicy meat.”

“Admit you do it, too,” I say with a clever smile.

“Come on,” Abbey starts, disregarding Hannah’s (completely true) remark and my (also completely true) remark. “You’ve been single for, what, a few months? Now is the time to get out there.” She gestured to there as if it included a holiday work party on New Year’s Eve. I know I definitely won’t find any options here.

“He’s coming. Good luck,” Abbey whispers, bringing my attention back to the meat at hand. More like annoying meat, I should say. 

Abbey gives Hannah a look towards the drinks table as if someone is waving at them. They slip away unnoticed, probably running away to laugh at my dilemma. And to refill their glasses, most likely.

“Good evening, Emily,” his deep voice sounds near my ear. 

I spin around as if his breath was poisonous, but it was really because I was surprised by the shivers in my spine. “We might be at a party on New Year’s Eve, but we’re still at work, bozo. You should call me by my title.”

He cocks an eyebrow as if to ask me about the insult. Looking at the glass in my hand, he thinks better of it. I am dangerous with a weapon.

“As you wish, Ms. Davis.” He sighed, a move that only makes me roll my eyes again. “I just came here to ask you if you wanted a drink.”

“I just had one.”

“Does that stop you from accepting another one?”

My gut warned against it, but I started leading the way toward the drinks area. Abbey and Hannah have disappeared, but the sound of music like dying cats comes from one of the offices. I assume they’re at the karaoke machine, singing at the top of their lungs.

I look at my watch. There was still half an hour until the New Year countdown. I silently add it up in my head. With thirty minutes left, and including the fifteen-minute drive, I’ll be home by one A.M. at the latest. My eyes glaze over when I think of the hot chocolate and fuzzy socks waiting for me at home.

Spencer refills my glass, filling it to the brim. I eye him suspiciously.

“What? Do you not trust me with your drink?” Spencer eyed me curiously. Then he smiles, an evil grin to taunt me. “Or is it too much for someone like you?”

I take the glass in a swift motion, downing more than half of it while staring him down.

“Someone like me? It seems I can handle my alcohol more than you, Mr. Jones,” I slur, already bubbling with another two drinks in my stomach.

As I take a napkin, I think up the few ways I could kill him without getting caught. Strangling him, food poisoning, a banana to the…

“Why are you smiling?” Spencer narrowed his eyes. “Are you gonna kill me with that glass?”

“Funny you think me capable of murder.”

“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I treated you like you weren’t.”

“Who said you were a gentleman?”

He thinks about it a second, before an evil smile lights his face. “You did.”

I raise an eyebrow. “What? What are you talking about?”

“You were moaning it in your sleep during one of our earlier meetings.”

“How dare you say such an outlandish thing,” I say as I think of that day at the office. His statement was completely true. I had been working the entire night and clearly coffee the next day didn’t help.

I don’t realize my voice raised until I feel the stares from witnesses, as well as a tap on my shoulder.

“Mr. Andrews,” I say after turning around. My boss. Oh, great, I think to myself. I hope he doesn’t see the sweat on my forehead.

“Ms. Davis,” says the short, bushy man. “Why don’t you go up to my office?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Andrews. I didn’t mean to cause a scene. I-”

He raises his hand to stop my stuttering. “I see you might’ve had too much to drink. You can go to my office to get something to clear your head.”

He threw a small object in the air. “Here are the keys to my office. Go behind my desk and look in the second drawer on the right. You’ll find some pain meds there.” Mr. Andrews was known for his resourcefulness. 

I nod my head in agreement. “Thank you for being so thoughtful.” In reality, I knew it was for his reputation.

“Since Ms. Davis is sick, I feel that I should accompany her.”

Look who decided to speak up at the wrong time, I roll my eyes. Always butting into my business.

I scoff, turning to walk towards the elevator with keys in my hand. Confident footsteps follow behind. Spencer catches up to me, his long strides almost making me jog. 

He presses the button to go up. When the doors slide open, he bends, indicating towards the door. “Ladies first.”

“Assholes second,” I finish for him.

We’re quiet as the elevator goes up, only elevator music filling the awkward silence.

After rummaging through several drawers – and finding several questionable items through Mr. Andrews’ things – we manage to find the pills. I pop several of them in my mouth before walking out the door. 

My phone vibrates. Abbey. Where r u? They’re starting the countdown soon.

Already? Time passes by so quickly.

I look up, watching my unwanted guest. Spencer follows me to the elevator like a ghost, wordlessly and observant. I feel an eerie feeling under his scrutiny.

He leaned against the wall as the doors closed seamlessly. “Do you-”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence when we are jerked forward, the elevator shifting slightly beneat our feet.

“What’s going on?” I yell, confusion and bewilderment muddling my thoughts.

“Hold on to me.”

I did as he said for the first time without complaining. His big arms wrap around me until the elevator becomes stable.

And then the lights flicker and go out.

I sink against the wall, my knees giving out from shock.

“Are you ok?” he asks gently.

“Yeah,” I answered. My voice didn’t shake despite the emotions building in my chest.

After a few deep breaths, I calm down. 

“Why do you hate me?” Spencer asks after a few more minutes of silence.

The response is already prepared on the tip of my tongue, my previous shock wearing off. It is replaced by pure adrenaline. “Because you’re an asshole.”

“Is it because of when Mr. Andrew promoted me instead of you?”

In this moment, I’m thankful for the darkness because my face must look horrified. I’m surprised he remembered. Most people already forgot that incident a long time ago, but I still remember the embarrassment and shame I felt all day. 

“If you must know, yes.” I say honestly. “I felt that you didn’t work as hard as me and didn’t deserve that raise.” I sigh. No point in revisiting the past at this point.

I check my phone, waiting for an answer from Abbey or Hannah.

We hear the chanting from outside the elevator.

Ten. Nine.

“Looks like I’ll be stuck in an elevator with a bozo and an asshole while everyone else is enjoying themselves.”

Seven. Six.

“I won’t even have anyone to kiss at midnight,”

Some shuffling in the darkness.

Five.

A lightbulb pops over my head.

Four. 

“Spencer?”

Three.

“Yeah?”

Two.

“I’m sorry.”

“For wha-”

But he doesn’t get to finish, because I launched at him in the darkness, aiming for where his voice was coming from. Our lips meet as cheers erupt outside the cramped elevator.

Just as quickly as I jumped on him, I back away, my spine hitting the hard wall behind me.

He chuckles in the dark. “You must be desperate.” 

My urge to kill is back. So is my scowl.

“How long have you been single for?”

I swipe at the darkness, not really aiming for anything in particular.

“I still hate you,” I say unconvincingly.

Another laugh. “Right back atcha, Barbie.”