mad woman
Tiffany closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she waited for the man in front of her to sign the forms he held in his sweating, tanned hand.
“There’s nothing quite like a mad woman, is there?” Scott scoffed as he glanced at himself in the mirror; straightening the red striped tie, “hell hath no fury and all of that.”
Eric laughed and drained his tumbler of scotch as he admired Scott, Tiffany sighed again.
Scott felt the slight shift in her movement and turned on her with cool grey eyes.
“Somewhere to be Taylor?”
“It’s Tiffany.”
“Taylor-Tiffany, same difference,” he laughed and Eric followed suit.
Tiffany swallowed down a response and watched as Scott pulled a pen from his pocket.
“This one really is crazy,” Eric nodded at the legal documents Scott was close to signing, his fellow businessman smirked in agreement.
Tiffany said nothing as Scott turned to look at her.
“You seem angry,” he whispered and leaned into her, the stench of alcohol on his breath hitting her slightly open mouth.
“I’m not angry,” she smiled, flashing a set of straight white teeth and tilting her perfectly coiffed blonde head.
Scott scribbled on the pieces of paper he clutched before placing them in her manicured outstretched hand.
“Thank you,” she acknowledged.
“Hey, no one likes a mad woman,” he smirked, stroking her fingers as the papers passed between them.
“I’m not mad.”
***
Tiffany watched as Camilla sauntered into the building, her long black hair pulled from her fierce face in a slick ponytail. The dagger heels on her six inch pumps hit the floor nearly marking the marble tiles as she ignored the looks of every single person in the office. She clutched folders in her toned arms that were on show despite the icy New York weather and full blast air con, her fitted navy shift dress snug in all the right places.
“Witch,” somebody muttered from behind Tiffany, she turned to see Demi sipping on a black coffee from a mug that read “I wish this was gin.” Tiffany wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Demi kept her narrowed brown eyes on Camilla as she disappeared from sight on the arm of Scott, “actually fuck that, bitch is more fitting.”
“You know she’s probably sleeping with him,” another woman piped up, Tiffany glanced back to see nearly fifty year old Linda scowling in the direction of the head researchers retrieving back.
“Meh, slut then,” Demi shrugged and hopped off the desk she was leaning on and returned to her MacBook.
“It’s so weird that she even likes them,” Jessa appeared at Tiffany’s side with two coffees, “he is one racist son of a bitch and let me put it this way; that tan she got ain’t from no bottle. She should be fuming, she should be scathing.”
Tiffany settled next to Jessa as she took one of the coffee’s from her friend’s grasp and turned her focus to the computer screen, a mere second passed but she couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
“But she’s not black,” Tiffany blurted out.
“I know that,” Jessa nearly spat out her frothy drink as she looked at her fellow Floridian native, “but she’s Hispanic, or Latin or whatever it is. Whatever, all I’m saying is she ain’t white and I know how much Barron likes them pure as god damn snow. That’s why you always get a wink.”
Tiffany shivered at the innuendo as she took a sip of her creamy, sugary hot drink.
“Well I still don’t get what she gets,” Tiffany huffed.
“Not yet,” Jessa responded without taking her eyes off her screen as she continued to work, “but then she climbed over a few people to get there – if you know what I mean.”
***
The next day Tiffany massaged her temples as she sat at her desk and re-read the latest text message from her now ex-boyfriend
“Oh fuck you,” she whispered at the phone before turning it over and taking a sip of her full fat latte, “fuck you forever.”
Tiffany jumped in her chair as a heavy hand landed on her shoulder, she looked up to see the could be handsome face of Scott leering down at her, colour rushed to her cheeks under his gaze.
“Language, Tiffany,” he smirked.
“Sorry,” she apologised and his hand slid down her back, she felt goosebumps pucker over her skin at his touch and couldn’t put her finger on the emotion.
“Scott?”
Camilla appeared at his back seconds later and a broader grin took over Scott’s face as he turned to her.
“Miss Rosado,” he welcomed and moved his hand from Tiffany’s back.
“Shall we?”
Camilla’s long blood red acrylics lightly grazed Scott’s arm as she guided him to her office and away from the desk. Tiffany felt Camilla’s golden cat eyes glance in her direction for a mere second and a mark of acknowledgement shot through them but Tiffany looked away with a pout.
“Did you see the look she just gave you?” Jessa audibly gasped the minute Scott and Camilla were out of earshot, “you can tell she is the type of woman who just isn’t a girls girl.”
“She should be mad, right?” Tiffany looked at Jessa who nodded.
“Yeah, she should have those red claws out, deep in his misogynistic racist skin,” Jessa nodded, “but you know what they say, no one likes a mad woman.”
***
That evening as Tiffany worked late she couldn’t help but watch as Camilla left with Scott and Eric, her assistant Marissa following close behind as they no doubt headed to a bar to drink gin and snort lines of cocaine.
Barely twenty minutes had passed when her work phone beeped next to her and she was surprised to see a text message from Eric instructing her to grab something from one of the meeting rooms; a stack of papers he needed photo-copied and sent across to a client now. It was nearly 8 o clock and added to Tiffany’s never ending list of tasks both Eric and Scott had left her to complete by tomorrow morning.
As she fumbled around in the room for the letters she saw a flashing light from the corner of her eye and clocked a mobile phone lighting up like the fourth of July. Tiffany grabbed the mobile and saw messages on the home screen, she knew she shouldn’t read them but she also knew everyone else would.
– I spoke to Paris, she recorded the whole conversation, Simon and Edward tried more than once.
– Jessa needs to be approached
– Carly said she has too many examples to count, she’s on board, they threatened her, Cami! It’s sexual abuse of the highest degree.
– Let’s get those sons of bitches! Leila just gave me your number, I can’t deal any more
– Hi Camilla, it’s Jessa. Can we talk?
A million and one thoughts raced through Tiffany’s head as she scanned the betraying messages and as much as she wanted to know more she didn’t even attempt to guess what the pass code was.
“Tiffany, isn’t it?”
The dark beautiful brunette that stood in the doorway was the owner of the phone and Tiffany had been caught red-handed, she knew how this looked.
“Hi, yes! Sorry Eric asked me to…”
“Yeah,” Camilla sneered as she tapped her long nails on the door frame, “I bet he did.”
“What’s this about?” Tiffany couldn’t help but ask as she held up Camilla’s phone and frowned at the texts which revealed so much.
“I think you know,” Camilla eyed Tiffany wearily as she stepped into the office.
“I don’t think I do.”
“Good wives always know,” Camilla commented as she took the phone from Tiffany’s grasp.
Tiffany frowned and shook her head.
“I’m not anyone’s wife…wait…you can’t do this,” she panicked as the pieces fell into place, “it’ll ruin them.”
“They took everything from me,” Camilla laughed at Tiffany but this was no mirth in the sound.
“Camilla just…just…move on.”
“I won’t,” Camilla flared her nostrils and placed a shaking hand on Tiffany’s shoulder, “we’ve both watched them climb, climb over people like me! Like us Tiffany, you could help us.”
Tiffany stumbled back and let Camilla’s nails scrape her arm just a little as she slid from her stinging grasp.
“You’re crazy,” Tiffany mumbled as she felt nervous tears welling.
“I just get more crazy every time people say that you know,” Camilla shouted as she cornered Tiffany, “How are you not fuming? How are you not scathing?”
Hate seemed to pour from Camilla’s breath as she towered over Tiffany, her skin stippled with red but Tiffany took another step back.
“You know I have to tell them about this,” Tiffany demanded, her rosy cheeks heating up as she watched Camilla slowly become madder.
Tiffany could almost see the claws coming out, the steam from her ears, the flames from her mouth as she seethed and saw the noose she had created slide around her neck.
“Wow women really do like hunting witches too.”
Tiffany shook her pretty head at the accusation but saw how this could spin in her favour.
“You know you’re just doing their dirtiest work, Tiffany, I thought maybe what they’ve done would bring us together but I guess it’s just brought you two – three – together.”
“I was taking my time,” Tiffany felt a smirk creeping onto her own face as she realised what this all meant for her.
“Tiffany…” Camilla warned.
“It’s a shame, Camilla, you know what they say,” Tiffany muttered softly, “No one likes a mad woman.”
Emily Vierke 