Chapter 8 My Hero

• Renee’s POV
• I unlock the front door to my house. Before I turn the handle, I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to shake off today’s encounter. I can’t help but feel that I got away just by the skin of my teeth.
• I push open the door, just wanting to be inside and shut off the rest of the world.
• “Mommy!” Debbie comes running down the hall and wraps her arms around my thighs, almost knocking me over despite her size. I swear sometimes the love inside her is even bigger than she is.
• “Hi girly,” I say and kiss the top of her head. Just then Margaux comes walking out the kitchen.
• “Thank you,” I tell her for watching Debbie. “How was she?”
• “Good, of course. You know that,” Margaux says with a grandmotherly smile. “I must go though, it’s bingo night!” I laugh and open the door for Margaux. Honestly, Margaux has been a better partner than Eric ever has.
• She’s great with Debbie and actually appreciates that she’s frail since Margaux herself isn’t her once youthful self, she says and she can actually keep up with Debbie.
• I shrug off my jacket and as I’m hanging it on the rack, Debbie tugs at my shirt. “Did you ask Eric to be my daddy today?” Just the mention of his name is enough to make me pause. I relax the muscles in my face before turning around to meet Debbie’s hopeful gaze.
• “You really want him to be your daddy, huh?” I say. Isn’t it true that children have a sixth sense for spirits or deeply emotional things? Is she somehow subconsciously aware that Eric indeed is her father?
• “I just want you to be happy,” Debbie says digging her foot into the ground.
• “Oh honey,” I say and straighten up. “I am happy,” I tell her, but even as I say it I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince her or myself. Hopefully she doesn’t pick up on that.
• Debbie lets out an exasperated sign. “It’s just, I can’t protect you because I’m so weak. Eric can though!” Debbie practically whines. Yup. Her love defiantly weighs more than she does.
• I put my hands on my hips, letting her know I mean business. “I’m going to get your treatment, you’re going to get better and so much stronger we won’t need anyone else.” Debbie nods, but I can tell she isn’t buying it.
• “Just me, you, and Margaux,” I tell her and this causes her to smile. When Debbie miles it’s like everything is suddenly right in the world. And maybe, for now, it is.
• Morning comes blissfully. Fully recharged from sleep and already forgetting yesterday's troubles, I walk into work with my head high. I think finally things are going to start looking up.
• I may have almost been identified by Eric, but I wasn’t and there isn’t any more need for my identity to be questioned any further. From now on, it’s just business.
• As I walk through the halls, I smile at a few colleagues though rather than return the greeting, many of them turn their noses up. That’s odd.
• The more I walk, the more I notice hushed voices filling the otherwise silent hallways only to be silenced as I walk past people.
• Self-conscious, I look down at my clothes. Do I have a stain? Is there toilet paper stuck to my shoe? Don’t tell me that I’m wearing an out-of-season color and that’s why people are talking about me.
• Maybe they’re saying good things, maybe they can’t believe how good my dress that won the competition is. It’s not like I’ve done anything to these people. I brush it off and approach a couple of people hovering over a folder of the newest catalog.
• “Hi,” I say cheerily. The two women lift their gaze, drag their eyes over me, and look back at the binder. “I’m Renee,” I say choosing to ignore their blatant coldness. “I just started, could either of you help me with some onboarding tasks?”
• The one woman in an electric blue pantsuit holds the floral magazine up to her face as though inspecting an image, completely ignoring that I just spoke.
• “She’s wolfless. How did she even get this job?” I hear her say. My heart sinks. So that’s it. They think I’m not good enough because I’m not one of them, at least not anymore. How would they even know that? Though, I already know the answer. Mia. Of course.
• “Excuse me, I have been a designer all over the world working for companies that sell exclusively to A-List celebrities only.” I say proudly. I may be wolfless, but I am not useless.
• The other woman dressed somewhere between a goth and cottage-core aesthetic sneers. “They probably only took you on because you’re an anomaly. Everything in fashion has its fringes and that’s you,” She says tossing her sleek black hair down her back.
• I feel my temper rising and just as I’m about to snap I feel a heavy hand on my shoulder. I know insanity who it is. Eric.
• We may not have had the love I’ve always wanted with him, but I know his touch.
• “I personally hired Renee,” Eric says looking straight at these two women who look back stunned in silence. In fact, the whole room falls silent. I realize everyone is staring at us.
• “I meant it as a compliment, really.” The one designer says. Eric puts his hand up to silence them.
• “This kind of behavior and talk will not be tolerated in the future. I expect you to apologize to Renee here,” Eric says and waits for them to do so. Something like pride swells up in me and I lift my chin a little higher as they murmur their apologies.
• With that settled, the crowd that gathered at some point during Eric’s scolding starts to disperse. Suddenly, only Eric and I are left standing near one another.
• The proximity of his body consumes my attention. I turn to face him and have to look up to see his face. A rush of familiarity courses through me. I try to move past this flood of emotions.
• “Thank you for that,” I say and mean it.
• “You’re welcome,” Eric says and he looks as though he wants to say more but is debating if he should. I decide to make up his mind for him and quickly scurry away. No need to be around him any longer than I have to. It’s too risky.
• The rest of the day is fine. Some people warmed up to me, though probably only because Eric told them to and their jobs depended on it. Still, I’m grateful for when the day is done.
• Every second I spend in this building I feel like a hand is closing around my chest, making it hard to breathe.
• I press the button on the elevator and let my mind wonder about what I’ll do tonight. Maybe I’ll pour a glass of wine and have a nice bath. The very thought relaxes me.
• Just then the doors begin to open and I step forward wanting to get to my wine and bath as soon as possible, but I nearly trip over my two feet when I come to a sudden halt. Eric stands in the elevator. Just him and no one else. And now I have to get on. I look to my left where the stairs are. Maybe I could have a mini workout before my bath?
• “Why do you always try to avoid me?” I hear Eric ask, pulling my attention back to him. I feel my face getting red. Caught.
• “I was thinking of taking the stairs before the door opened,” I say as a pathetic excuse. “Exercise and all,” I add while stepping onto the elevator anyways.
• “Hm,” is all Eric says though I can tell he’s not convinced.
• I’m not sure if he feels as awkward as I do, but he doesn’t look it. Actually, he seems to be enjoying himself. He’s rocking lightly on his heels and whistling, while I tug at a hangnail on my thumb.
• Every second feels like an eternity. This is the longest elevator ride, ever. I just hope he doesn’t say anything. I may have rehearsed our interview a thousand times, but I never once thought about speaking to him off the cuff ever again. Besides, whatever I want to tell him would be all the things Annie has to say, and she’s dead.
• Suddenly, the elevator gives a hard jerk and the lights flicker just before completely going out. A scream of terror bellows out from me
• I can’t help it, I hate confined spaces. Elevators are bad enough when they’re running properly with the lights n but now that it’s at a standstill and dark, I’m instantly eight years old again at the orphanage being locked in an empty room by girls that are supposed to be my friend.
• Their laughing faces while the door shuts are all that I can see, all I can hear are their cackles that become like a distorted tape caught on a never-ending loop. Bile rises up on my throat and just when I think I’m going to faint, something else penetrates my senses.
• Erics smell. I’m instantly pulled back to the present moment, now fully aware that I’m clinging on to Erics’ side.
• I shakily let go, entirely scared for a whole new reason. Eric is the only one who knows that I, Annie, am claustrophobic.