My Perfect Marriage

Chapter 13

Sophia stares blankly ahead in the elevator as she descends to the ground floor to meet Johnny outside for lunch. It's been a few days since his drunken confession, and two days of his AWOL childish behavior passed before he finally showed up to act like an adult once more. And like every other time, they never mentioned it again because this is what he does. Back into the swing of their ordinary lives, and it's brushed under the table as though it never happened and became just another absurd ritual in her life.

She's barely seen Leon all week as they're all so swamped in work with three new company investments to launch by the end of the month that's taking all their time. She's had an average of two hours sleep a night, missed so many meals from overtime, skipped lunch breaks that she's dropped a dress size. Hence her lunch date and making time to hang out with her little brother, forcing her to eat and take a break. He's the only one who ever seems to put her before everything else.

The noise outside the lobby pulls her attention, and she glances up as she walks towards the wall of glass doors, surprised by the crowds of people that seem to be milling right in front of their building. They're not a company that gets a lot of foot traffic given their area of expertise, so this is unusual. Her stomach sinks as she catches sight of some billboards being pulled up, and many turn their backs to face out towards the road to assemble into a long line, spreading the width of their entrance.

It's a protest. The beginning of one anyway, and something they deal with every so often when a company fails, and they have to pull out their funding and cut their losses. She has a clue who these might be, yet there's nothing protesting will do for them. Their company went bankrupt, and no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't bring it out of the red despite their marketable product. They got in too late and got out just as fast.

They spent too many years concealing their mistakes and pulled in investors dishonestly when they knew they were going under. They uncovered a whole array of problems and pulled out their money before getting caught up in the legalities of many fraudulent practices that went on under the radar with their existing management. POLO wasn't responsible for its demise, but it's not what their factory workers were told. They publicly lied and tried to smear POLO in a campaign that they breached their contract and pulled funding because they merely changed their mind. They're still dealing with it via their legal department as they speak.

Dressed in her cream wool overcoat, over a dark grey pantsuit and black boots, Sophia stands tall and makes her way right for the center men who seem to be directing the crowd. She pushes her hand into her pocket, puts her car keys back, and marches outside, signaling for security to follow her with a click of the fingers. She has no patience for this nonsense, and it looks terrible for them to have any kind of protest on their own doorstep. The scandals can harm their stocks even if they're unfounded.

Her burly band of black-suited security flank her and quickly and quietly spread behind the line of men while she taps an exceptionally well-built, lumberjack shirt-wearing man in a black beanie on the back. Lifting her chin, tucking her handbag under her arm, and putting on her business-like persona and stern expression.

"Can I help you? You're obstructing the main door of my company, and I can have you removed if you don't do so immediately." She points out, her tone is frosty with no intimidation whatsoever from dealing with these types of people. He towers over her, even facing the other way, smells like cigarettes and damp, pretty disgusting fabric.

He spins on her, and she's faced with a bearded, giant bear of a man who looks down at her and sneers. His whole aura suggests he's the type to spend his private life in bars, playing pool, and shooting innocent wildlife in the name of fun. A typical low pay grade laborer with a lack of IQ who thinks this is how to save his job.

"And who are you?" He spits, eyeing her up and down as though she's a secretary or someone unimportant because she's female, and she takes a moment to scan her eyes over the billboard sign he's holding against his lower body. She was right, and it's Future Cosmetics that went under two weeks ago due to their own internal issues. She exhales heavily and checks her wristwatch to check how late she's going to be to meet Johnny. Sighing that this may take a while and traffic will also delay her.

"I'm the vice president of POLO, and this is my footpath. I suggest you all move along and find a nice field somewhere to complain about the unfairness of your company. But be warned, any slander against POLO will result in legal action. Consider this a polite request for you to leave, and we won't take any action about this today." Sophia sounds as disinterested as she feels. They don't need to be courteous when it's this kind of protest. They're already breaking the law by obstructing a business.

"We ain't moving, lady. Not until your high and mighty pretty boy President Leon Hale shows face and tells us how he's going to get our jobs back." He spits at his feet, a vile thick phlegm that turns her stomach, missing her shoes by an inch, and she doesn't react even though she's disgusted and grits her teeth at his show of disrespect.

"He'll say the exact same things I am, and he has no more ability to get your job back than I do. This is not a POLO issue; it's a Future Cosmetic issue, and your fight is with them. I suggest you go stand outside their HQ and not ours."

He starts laughing at her, waves his hand in her face as though she's speaking another language, and he isn't interested in anything she has to say. He lifts his arm and waves it around to get the attention of fellow protestors, and she's aware of some turning this way and pushing in slightly to form more of an arc facing their building instead of away. Eyes are coming her way, and some quiet down to listen.

"She says it's not their problem!" he yells out loud for them all to hear in a snarly tone and thumps his board on the ground so that she flinches. Many more of them follow suit and pound their boards too, creating a buzz of bangs and murmurs as their voices blend into one. She catches more security filing outside from the doors in her right line of vision and knows that upstairs will have been notified of this going on by now.

"Bullshit!" he leans into her face and spits it out, so he almost grazes her nose, and she pulls her face away and turns to the side to pat her mouth and nose in disgust. His breath reeks of stale booze and ash, and her stomach lurches as she fights the urge to gag.

"This is an illegal protest, and I asked nicely. Now it's not MY problem." She turns back to him and nods to the army of black-suited men coming towards her. She smiles salaciously as if to say she's done here, and you'll regret it, as they begin to start shoving those on the ends and pushing, pulling, them out of line. A sweeping sea of suits against lumberjack shirts. The bear-man turns to her with an angry growl and snarls right into her face once more.

"We came expecting a fight, lady. Just watch us." He laughs again, a hearty and arrogant noise like a bellowing animal, and she turns and nods to her escort that they should deal with this. Moving out of the way as her men collide with theirs, she skirts around them and heads for the open end to get out of here and still meet her appointment time. There's no other way to deal with these types other than brute force, and she can guarantee the staff inside have already called the police to come break this up soon enough. She doesn't need to involve herself any further. There's nothing to negotiate as POLO is not at fault. It's not their problem.