Page 97 of Cuts like a Knife
“You’re done, Alexis. I’m sorry it didn't work out,” he said. It was like he couldn’t really see me, hear me.
“You’ll need to surrender your work phone,” Patty was saying, gesturing to my cell.
I looked down at the little screen in front of me. I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare.
“Take it,” I said, shoving the phone across the table, a tiny bit of my bravado returning. Don’t cry, I thought. Don’t give these people the satisfaction. “So that’s it then? I can go?”
Kelsang nodded. “Security is waiting to walk you out. If you have any personal items here, we'll courier them to you. You’ll need to give him your pass.”
One of the generic office security guys was indeed waiting at the elevator doors.
I stood up, refusing to wobble.
“Nice move keeping me sitting in here all day without so much as a f—ing snack or a cup of water. Very classy,” I spat.
“Owen explained earlier that you weren't a prisoner. You could have gotten yourself a snack any time, if that’s what you wanted.”
“F— you, Kel,” I said. It wasn’t much, but in the moment, it was the only thing I think of. He winced.
“Ms. Madison, you need to sign the exit paperwork,” Patty said.
I noticed the lawyer guy still hadn’t said a word.
“Nothing to say, Mr. Counsel? Does this seem right to you?”
“I have no opinion on the matter,” he said.
“Well then f— you too.”
I grabbed the stack of papers and the pen that Patty pushed my way, and without reading a single word, scrawl my name three times on the indicated pages303.
I pushed the stack back across the table and stormed from the room. The security guard followed me into the elevator. I pulled my pass off my neck and flung it at him.
He didn’t flinch. I suppose he’d seen worse.
Moments later, I was out on the street watching the guard lock the glass doors to the building behind me.
A cute couple hurried past, probably on their way to an impromptu Monday night dinner. It was dark, but there were no stars. Only the glow of the streetlights.
I started walking. I didn’t know what else to do.
Almost without realizing it, I made my way to my sister Diana’s office, which, to be fair, was just minutes away from my own. We both worked in the heart of downtown.
From the street, I could see lights on her floor. Lawyers always work late. Diana was a lawyer. She’d give me advice. She’d know what to do.
I took the elevator up to her firm — Jamison, Parker, and Wolf, or JPW, but when I get there, it was deserted.
I remember being stuck by how different our offices were. Her was hushed, classically decorated, with orchids in the lobby, and a curved dark-wood reception desk and plush wool carpets as far as the eye could see. And lots of doors — private offices, I guessed.
In contrast, the offices at Flash were mostly one big open space. Only the most senior people had private spaces. The rest of us sat like cattle, working at hot desks in a long line304.
At Di’s office, there wasn’t a beanbag in sight.
Down the hall, I could see light pouring out the open door of one of the offices. Thinking it could be Diana’s. I walked in that direction.
With no phone and no laptop, I didn’t know what else I was supposed to do. Diana wasn’t necessarily the sister I would have chosen to help me in a vacuum, or had I any other choice. I
Before I was half-way down the hall, a blonde woman appeared in the pool of light streaming from the aforementioned open doorway.
