007 - First Task
1505 Words
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• Andrea •
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If someone had told me that I'd be second guessing my decision of being an employee on my first day at work, I would have laughed in their face and called them dramatic.
When I first arrived today, I was thrilled. Who wouldn't? Mr. Bradley ushered me in for onboarding before I even got to show the card, but now? I don't know what to think.
Love’s unpredictable, very complicated, but being a Love Consultant was a bigger adventure I didn’t knew I signed up for.
I turned to face my first task ever - Marilyn and Jordan seated in front of me. Marilyn had her leg crossed, a weary expression visible on her face. On her left was her non- chalant boyfriend, sprawled comfortably in his chair, spinning a sleek car key between his fingers.
I cleared my throat briefly, flashing my most professional smile as I let Mr. Bradley's words during the short onboarding play in my head.
‘Do not side with either parties, and please don't roll your eyes. One mess up and your salary is slashed.'
"Okay." I started. "Thank you both for coming in today"
The lady scoffed immediately.
“He didn’t come,” she said. “He was dragged.”
Jordan remained mute, inspecting the office like a tourist instead. I noticed her face fall, and then it looked like she was about to start a banter.
I wouldn't let that.
“Well,” I said quickly, tapping my tablet, “no judgements here. Think of this as a guided conversation. We-"
“A conversation?!" she shrieked. “I’ve been talking for three months. All he does is nod. I don't even know what my crime is.”
She sounded like she was about to cry.
“That’s because you talk like a podcast,” he defended.
“Long episodes. No breaks.” he added with a stiff voice.
I rubbed my forehead, inhaling slowly through my nose.
“Alright,” I said, smiling it through. “Communication is key in any relationship. You know what? Let’s start with something simple. What made you both book this session?”
She turned to me instantly. “He forgot our anniversary.”
“I remembered. “ he said. “I just didn’t remember the date.”
I blinked, joining my palms. “Honestly, that is impressively not the same thing.”
“See?” she exclaimed, pointing at him triumphantly.
He raised both hands, his eyes, clearly tired. “It’s not like we’re married.”
“And that,” she snapped, “is exactly the problem.”
Silence ensued in the room, and I thought of the best statement to put in at the moment.
“Just to clarify, this firm doesn’t do therapy. We don’t diagnose and we don’t prescribe. We just help people hear what’s actually being said.”
He leaned forward slightly. “Can you help her hear that I am stressed? I f*****g work seventy hours a week!”
Marilyn rolled her eyes. “And I don't? I work. I really do. I just don’t use it as an excuse to emotionally disappear.”
Bingo.
I nodded slowly, looking straight into her eyes. “So what I’m hearing is she wants reassurance and attention."
“And you," I shifted to Jordan "want understanding. All these are very possible through communication.”
Jordan lets out a low laugh. “See? Even your consultant says you are the problem.”
I stalled. My words didn't relate to that. At this point, my smile was strained, still, I flashed one - the type customer service reps reserve for people they fantasize about reporting.
“I never said that. If this were an exam, you’d have failed the comprehension section.”
Marilyn let out a short, humorless laugh. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank her like she’s your lawyer.” he snapped, a sudden flare of temper flashing in his eyes.
“All I ask for is effort. A call. A freaking text, Jo. Something that shows I still exist in your world.” Marilyn said softly.
“I provide,” he snapped. “You live in my apartment. What else do you want? My blood?"
“That’s not affection,” she insisted. “That’s rent-free lodging.”
I shut my eyes, feeling my fist tighten.
“You’re always twisting things.” he continued.
“Great! You’re always making me feel small,” she shot back. “You forget dates, you ignore my calls, and when I complain, you tell me I’m nagging.”
“You are still nagging. Even here. Don't you have some shame? You're beginning to irk me.”
Jeez. A bile rose in my throat. I turned to Marilyn whose voice was cracked now.
“I wouldn’t have to if you listened.” she said to him, her voice hurt.
With a finger, she shove her hair off her face like it were the cause of her predicament.
I leaned forward. “Jordan, instead of defending yourself, why not try to acknowledge how your woman feels.”
He laughed. Actually laughed.
“Why should I? She’s overreacting.”
I guess Marilyn had had enough ’cus she stood now, arms crossed.
“I am not overreacting!” she bellowed.
“Sit down!" he yelled, standing too, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.
I pinched my thigh in frustration, rising as well.
“Jordan, please sit.”
He ignored me, pointing at Marilyn. “You’re embarrassing me, like you always do. Huh?”
She took a step back. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” he challenged, stepping closer.
My heart thudded. Were this duo about to ruin my first task?
“Jordan,” I said firmly, “this is not—”
His hand shot out, grabbing her neck to my dismay. My eyes widened as the room exploded.
“Hey!” I shouted, moving instantly around the desk.
Marilyn gasped, tears spilling as she tried to pull free. “Let go of me!”
“Jordan!” I yelled, trying to stop him.
One more minute and I was sure I would have collapsed to the floor.
How could he be so violent?
He tightened his grip. “You see what you make me do?”
“Let. Her. Go.” I said, my voice deadly calm as I slapped his hand away.
He released her, panting like an animal. Marilyn crumpled into her chair, sobbing uncontrollably.
By now, heads had appeared at the glass walls — Kylian, two consultants, and someone from HR pretending not to stare.
“What the hell is wrong with you?" Kylian demanded.
Jordan looked around, suddenly aware. “She provoked me.”
I laughed. A short, incredulous laugh.
“Ah. There it is. The international anthem of abusive men.”
He spun toward me. “Stay out of it.”
“I won't.” I said firmly. “This is exactly where I step in.”
Marilyn’s shoulders shook violently. I crouched in front of her.
“Hey. Hey, look at me.”
She did. Her eyes were red with mascara smearing down her cheeks.
“How long has this been going on?” I asked gently.
“Don’t answer that.” Jordan barked.
“Two years.” she whispered, wiping the tears off.
I straightened slowly and turned to Jordan. “You’re done.”
He scoffed. “Excuse me?”
“I said you. are. done.” I repeated. “This session. This relationship. All of it.”
He laughed again, but it sounded hollow. “You can’t tell her that.”
“I can,” I said calmly. “And I am.”
A footstep waltzed in, but I was too focused in speaking to Marilyn.
“You can leave this relationship. Really, you should leave this relationship, Marilyn. This firm believes in compatibility, not endurance. And I promise you there is a better match for you here, someone who solves arguments with coffee, not by testing how strong your neck is.”
“Andrea. What’s going on here?” I heard Mr. Bradley say.
A breath hitched in my throat as he scanned the room; the onlookers, the overturned chair, Marilyn’s tear-streaked face.
“So that’s it? After everything I’ve done, you’re just walking away?” Jordan intercepted, his face all red.
Marilyn didn’t answer. She sat straight, her face blank of expression.
“Fine. I’m done anyway!” he snapped, looking back at her, then at me before he stormed out.
“You’re safe here.” I assured Marilyn.
She nodded shakily.
As the room slowly emptied, Mr. Bradley took a long stare at me before disappearing with the others.
I sank back into my chair, flashing a smile at Marilyn.
Reconciliation was part of the rules for Love Incorporated, but I wouldn't let that sorry excuse of a man lay his hands on her.
If my defiance comes at a cost, so be it. I wouldn't think twice.
- Writer
