Make Me (Editing)

twenty two

"You said what now!?" Nikki screamed through my phone, loud enough to cause significant hearing damage had I not moved it away from my ear in time. "I thought you were going to end things with Mr Gray, not giving him an ultimatum."

"I know," I chuckled. "I have no idea what came over me, but I just started blurting out all this stuff and couldn't stop."

I'd just left work for the afternoon and was now walking home for a quiet night in. Tyler hadn't said anything to me for the rest of the day, but it wasn't like I'd made much of an effort to see him either. As far as I was concerned, the ball was in his court and he could do with that what he wanted.

"Well," Nikki spoke a little softer than before. "I guess the chase is officially on."

"Shut up," I laughed. "He probably won't even think twice in moving on to some easier girl, someone who wants him in return."

"I don't know," she sighed slightly. "I reckon there's a good chance he'll fight for it, but I guess only time will tell. He'd be a fool to let you get away."

"He'd be Tyler Gray," I earned a chuckle from the other end of the line.

After chatting away for a few more minutes, I ended the call, just as I arrived at my apartment block. Riding the elevator up to my floor, I took a few deep breaths to clear my mind of the thought of the whole Tyler situation. If I wanted any hope of remaining sane throughout all of this, I knew that I would need to find some distractions; namely, food and Friends. And with that decided, I opened up my humble abode, ready and raring for the night ahead.

---

I didn't know what to expect as I walked into Tyler's office the next day, his coffee in hand. I also didn't really know what I was hoping from him, which was both a blessing and a curse. My mind was a mess; it had been that way since the moment I'd starting working for the devilish CEO.

"Good morning," I greeted him rather hesitantly, attempting to gauge his mood. But his expression was stoic, showing not even a hint of emotion.

I placed his coffee down on his desk, earning nothing but a hard look in return.

"I've emailed you a list of jobs for today," his tone was equally as indifferent as his features.

I replied with a quick 'thank you', turning on my heels towards the door once I'd come to the conclusion that he had nothing else to say. But it appeared that I was wrong.

"You won't be required in the office tomorrow." I turned around at the sound of his instruction.

"Why not?" I enquired, hoping that he hadn't decided to fire me after denying him. I knew that I'd probably bruised his ego a little, but I hadn't thought he'd go as far as to make me redundant.

"The whole top floor has the day off," he explained, "to prepare for the gala."

The event that he was referring to was an annual charity ball, held by a big-wig in the business world, attended by all companies with any sort of reputation. It was a red-carpet affair, highly regarded by the big corporations, and meticulously covered by the media. And despite it being a charity event at heart, the businessmen and women were more concerned for their image than for helping marginalised children. It was more of a competition of wealth - an ego-game of sorts - rather than anything else.

"About the gala;" I started, "is it absolutely imperative that I attend?"

I certainly didn't find the idea of listening to a bunch of entitled businessmen blab on about their extravagant donations very entertaining at all.