VESTED INTERESTE: FOUND

Chapter 2

Horney walked through the staff entrance, her heart performing a nervous flutter against her ribs. She was wearing her uniform for the last time, the charcoal fabric she has spent three years trying to disappear into. “Resigning?” Mr. Henderson’s voice boomed across the lined room, dripping with disbelief. He did not even look up from his clipboard. “Honey, you have got seniority here. You are the most reliable girl on the fourth floor. Where are you going to go? The Motel 6 down the road?” Honey stood her ground, her fingers twisting the hem of her apron. “Actually, I accepted a corporate position. In marketing. In the city”. Henderson finally looked up, his eyes raking over her curves with a skeptical squint that made Honey want to shrink. “Marketing? You?” He let out a short, dry puff of a laugh. “Well, good luck with that, sweetheart. Do not come back crying when you realize those city types expect a certain aesthetics”. The comment stunk like a slap, but for the first time, it did not break her. She just nodded handed over her plastic name tag, and walked out towards the break room. “You are actually doing it!” Maria a tiny, energetic woman who had worked laundry next to Honey for two years, pulled her in to a scent bleach filled hug. Beside her stood Marcus, the quietest bellhop in the building. “I can not believe it,” Maria squealed, her eyes bright. “The Zenith District? Honey, you are going to be a big shot executive! You better not forget us when you are wearing designer suit and drinking champagne”. “I could never forget you,” Honey whispered, her voice thick with emotions. She reached in to her pocket and pull out two small envelopes. She’d tucked a bit of her meager savings in to them, not much, but enough for a nice dinner. “you two were the reasons why I didn’t quiet a year ago”. Marcus took his envelope, his expression solemn. “Be careful Honey that city… it eats people like us alive. Stay sharp. “I will,” she promised, though a cold ripple of Henderson’s words still echoed in her head. Those city types expert a certain aesthetics. As she walked out for the Grand Marguerite for the last time, she paused at the revolving doors. She looked back at the gold-trimmed mirrors in the lobby. She expected to feel relief. Instead, she felt that same strange, prickling sensation at the back of her neck. The feeling of being watched. She scanned the lobby, but it was empty save for a few wealthy tourists. When she stepped out onto the side walk, a sleek black SUV was idling at the curb. The windows were tinted so dark they were like ink. It sat there silent and predatory, before pulling away the second her feet hit the pavement. Honey shivered, pulling her thin cardigan tighter around her shoulders. She was leaving her old life behind, but she could not shake the feeling that her new life had already started following her home. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long, amber shadows across Honey’s bedroom. Open suitcases lay on her bed like gaping mouths, but only a few stacks of sweaters and her favorite worn out novel made it inside. Honey was sitting on the edge of the mattress, staring at the frame photo of her and Harris from their high school graduation. They looked so young so sure the world was waiting for them The front door clicked open, followed by the familiar thug of Harris footsteps. “Bee? You done yet? Or am I going to have to carry you to the car in a laundry basket on Monday?” Harris voce preceded him as he leaned in to her doorway, his face flush from a long shift. Honey ley out a shaky breath her hands resting in her lap. “Not yet. Every time I pick something up, it feels heavier. Like I am pacing up my entire identity and not just clothes”. Harris walked over, the floorboards creaking under his weight, and sat down beside. The bed dipped towards him, a familiar comfort he bumped his shoulders against hers, grounding her. “It’s just fabric and paper, Honey,” he said softly. “The identity stays with you. And with me”. “What if Henderson was right, Harris?” She looked up at him, her eyes clouded with insecurity that had been her constant companion. “What if I get there and they see me, really see me and realize that I don’t fit the looks of a senior associate? I am a housekeeper with thick thighs and a degree have not touched in years. I’m not…. Sleek”. Harris took her hands, his grip firm. “Henderson is a man who spends his life cleaning up after other people who are better than him. He wants you to stay small because it makes him feel big. This company? They saw your work, Bee. They saw your mind. And if they have a look they’re searching for, maybe its finally time that look include someone as beautiful as you”. Honey managed a small, watery smile. “You are biased. “I’m your twin. I’m the only one who tells you the truth,” he countered, standing up and ruffling her hair. “Now stay here. Take a breath. I’m going to go whip up some of that last meal pasta. Extra cheese just the way you like it”. “Harris?” she called out as he reached the door. He paused, looking back. “I’m going to miss this. just us”. Harris’ expression softened, a flash of sadness crossing his face before he masked it with a grin. “Hey its only five hours away. And once you are a big shot executive, you will probably have a guest suit bigger than this whole apartment. I will be there every weekend to annoy you”. “I am going to miss having a private chief” she yield as he walked out. As he disappeared in to the kitchen and the familiar sound of pots clattering began, Honey looked backed at her suit case. For the first time the ‘V’ on the offer letter did not just look like a blade but it also looked like a key. She did not know yet that the man who held the other end of the key was already counting down the hours until she arrived.