Caught Between My Ex And The Turner Twins

9

"You are fired!"

The words sounded strange in my ears as I looked at Ms. Deveraux who told me only a few days ago that I was free to call her Zoe.

"I don't understand," I tried to make sense of the situation. "I thought you said that I was free to continue working especially when you expressed how comfortable you were seeing me with Sam and the Turner Twins."

"You are fired," Ms. Deveraux repeated. "Please, leave my office immediately."

Outside, it felt as if a cold breeze had passed through my hard skin, and the only thing that made sense to me was the fact that I was standing in front of the building of Omni-Tech with a letter that clearly stated I was fired from my job as a marketer for the company.

*

"Where do you want me to take you to?" The taxi driver asked as soon as I entered his cab.

Slowly, I looked at him before telling him that he was free to carry me to any place he felt was nice to relax a bit and clear my head.

"Are you sure about that?" He asked just to be certain I was in my right frame of mind.

"Yes! Just take me to a nice place."

The taxi driver, a middle-aged man with kind eyes, glanced at me through the rearview mirror. "You look like you've had a rough day, kid. I know just the place."

We drove for about twenty minutes, leaving the bustling city behind. The gleaming skyscrapers and noisy streets faded away, replaced by tree-lined avenues and quaint storefronts. Finally, we pulled up to a small park nestled between old brick buildings.

"Here we are," he said, turning off the engine. "Oakwood Park. It's a hidden gem in this city. Not many people know about it."

I stepped out, the crisp autumn air filling my lungs. The park was a tapestry of golden and crimson leaves, with a winding path that led to a tranquil pond. An old wooden bench faced the water, inviting me to sit.

As I settled down, the events of the day washed over me. The cold dismissal, the abrupt end to a job I thought I was excelling at. It didn't make sense. Ms. Deveraux - Zoe - had been so warm just days ago. What changed?

My phone buzzed. It was a message from Sam: "Heard what happened. Are you okay? Call me."

I stared at the screen, my finger hovering over the call button. But I couldn't. Not yet. I needed to understand what went wrong before I could face anyone.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, and a few drifted onto the still water, creating ripples that spread across the pond. I watched them, mesmerized. It struck me then - one small disturbance could change everything.

Had I done something to upset Ms. Deveraux? Was it something with the Turner Twins? Or was it something entirely out of my control?

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, I realized sitting here wouldn't give me answers. I needed to be proactive. First thing tomorrow, I'd try to speak with Ms. Deveraux again. If that failed, I'd reach out to HR. And if all else failed, I'd call Sam. He always had a way of making things clearer.

With a plan forming in my mind, I felt a glimmer of hope. This setback, this ripple in my career, didn't have to define me.

"Hello!"

I turned just in time so see Tom Turner walking towards my direction.

"What are you doing here all alone by yourself?" Tom asked, looking at me directly in the eyes as if there was something in my eyes that he was looking for that was going to be the solution to all his problems in the world.

"What do you want?" I asked him.

Tom's usual cocky grin faltered for a moment. He looked around, as if checking to see if we were truly alone, then sat down next to me on the bench. The wood creaked under his weight.

"I heard about what happened," he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "With Ms. Deveraux."

I stiffened. News traveled fast, it seemed. "Did you come here to gloat?" I asked bitterly.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I came to console you."

"Console me?" I was very confused. "You, your twin brother, and Sam are the reasons why I have lost my job. If I had not decided to get involved with any of you guys sexually, I would still be employed."

"That is not entirely true," Tom informed me.

"I don't understand," I looked at him with confused eyes.

And, instead of Tom satisfying my curiosity immediately, he called the attention of a waitress and asked her to bring two bottles of wine containing strong alcoholic content.

"I am not interested in getting drunk," I informed him.

Tom laughed out loud before saying, "Who told you one of the bottles of wine was for you?"

I watched in disbelief as Tom downed the first bottle of wine in a series of large gulps. The waitress, a young woman with a concerned look, hovered nearby, as if unsure whether to intervene.

"Tom," I said, my voice a mix of annoyance and curiosity, "what's going on? You said my firing wasn't entirely true. What did you mean by that?"

He finished the first bottle and reached for the second. His eyes, usually sharp with mischief, were clouded. "It's not your fault," he mumbled, more to himself than to me. "None of this is your fault."

"Tom, you're not making any sense," I pressed, grabbing his wrist as he lifted the second bottle. "Talk to me. What do you know?"

He looked at me then, really looked at me, and I saw something I'd never seen in Tom Turner before: guilt. "She is jealous," he said finally. "Ms. Deveraux is jealous of you."

My blood ran cold. "What are you talking about?"

Tom sighed heavily, the weight of his confession seeming to sober him slightly. "Ms. Deveraux... Zoe... she's not who you think she is. She has been playing you all along."