The Whispers and The Wolf

Eight

A few days had passed in my new peaceful life and I was feeling grateful.

Robyn had been checking in everyday, but I was yet to tell her about the Sadie incident. I’ve never kept anything like that from her, never felt the need to. But I wasn’t quite ready to admit what had happened when I knew she already had an opinion on Sadie. I still didn’t feel ready to acknowledge the whole bizarre ordeal, it raised more questions than answers. I was really shaken by her reaction, leaving me wildly anxious to visit the market again. It was one encounter I was happy to avoid, especially in public. Thanks to her gift basket of goodies though, I didn’t have to go just yet but I was starting to run low on the essentials. Soon I would I have to put on my big girl panties and just go, get it over with.

There had been another storm a couple of nights ago, which had shaken one of the fence posts loose. I had to call the number on Bruce’s note but the call was weird. The line was silent and when I introduced myself and the reason for my call I was greeted by a grunt then the line went dead. Maybe no one was working because it was the weekend? Anyway, it meant that I had to call again today.

It was Monday. The fun and games were over and it was time to get back into work and my new routine. I set up at the kitchen island with my laptop and coffee. I hadn’t had time to order a desk or office chair yet but I didn’t mind- the kitchen was my favourite place in the house. I had a call at 10 AM and it was already 9.30, so I began going over my proposal notes and tweaking my mood board.

I had already met with the CEO of Hornet House. He was a bit of a bastard: inheriting the company from his father, he had shown that the brand’s visibility and success wasn’t his priority. The board, frustrated with his bullshit, then recommended he bring on an external marketing agent. Enter me. He didn’t show a massive amount of interest in the brand, he just liked to be kept in the loop about the decisions and to have an input once in a while. Fine by me, I just had to make sure I always had a plan B going into these proposals.

He didn’t even attend the meeting, and the rest of the board seemingly loved my proposal and instructed me to get started on a plan to role out the campaign straight away.

“This house is proving to be a good luck charm!” It was true- I felt so motivated, so inspired here. I reached up to stretch my tight back and arms. I urgently needed an office chair, I was too old to be hunching over a laptop all day. I decided to have a quick coffee break and call the landscaping office back before jumping on to the sss website. Juggling work and life admin, independent woman 101.

“CMA Landscaping, you’re through to Caitlin. How can I help?”

“Hi. My name is Autumn Bruan, I had Bruce and his team here last week to do some landscaping. The storm the other night dislodged one of the fence posts so I need someone to come and have a look at it, if that would be OK?” I waited for a response. I could hear hushed voices and shuffling in the background. “Hello?”

“Oh yes Miss Bruan, sorry. Of course, we can have someone out this afternoon. Bruce and his team are tied up at another job but we can have the manager out to see you?”

“Yes that’s fine, as long as it’s not too much trouble for them?” I wonder if this is the infamous ‘Boss’ that Bruce had referred to? More hushed voices in the background.

“Yes, yes not a problem. Mr Maxwell will be with you this afternoon”

“Thank you, I look forward to meeting him”. As soon as the words spilled out, I could feel the blush creep up my neck and onto my cheeks. I quickly disconnected the call. Why did I say that? What a strange thing to say. WAS I looking forward to meeting him? I poured myself a cold glass of water to cool my embarrassed face down and got back to work.

I was working on the timeline of how we’d implement the proposal for almost 2 hours when my stomach grumbled loudly. “Lunch time, me thinks” I said patting my tummy. I jumped off my stool and headed over to the fridge to collect the leftovers from last nights dinner- tomato chicken pasta and a side salad. I was half way through my meal when I heard the tyres on the gravel in my driveway. I scoffed the rest of my lunch quickly in preparation for “Mr Maxwell” arriving, slugging what was left of my water and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Classy, Autumn.”

It had been about 5 minutes and there was still no knock at the door, no voices signaling an arrival, no hammering outside. I looked on the security screen and could see a lone shadowy figure, still in the passenger street of the truck in the middle of the drive.

Then movement. He stepped out of the truck and slammed the door, looking straight at the cameras.

My heart started to race, my palms sweaty. My body covered in goosebumps.

So THIS was Mr Maxwell…