The last time we spoke you told me you were used to telling people to do something, then dutifully, like a dog awaiting a pat, they get it done. These people cannot possess intelligence. Their main aim, to shine bright in your eyes. You will allow them too. That is your gift to them for their subservient ways. 

Your voice soft, a tool you use in manipulation. You held my hand and maintained eye contact. It was a precarious time back then. The history we shared. Treading lightly with you my only aim. I allowed you to say your hollow words. You hugged me. I nodded. You left. Your life a whirlwind of women, business and saying the right thing. 

People who think for themselves are dangerous for you.

The issue is your lack of integrity. Your narcissistic ways. Your incessant requirement for everyone to love you, to admire you. The insecurity that beams from within you blinds me. 

Perhaps your emotional intelligence has been thwarted along the way, how or why I have no idea, I choose not to know too much about you, there’s no need. I never wish for the opportunity to feel any kind of empathy for you. I read somewhere you came to Australia with your father and brothers. Where was your mother? This clue is vital for understanding you.

Thursday you came into the office unannounced. Unaware of your purposeful entrance, I was taken by surprise when from behind you nestled your head into the crook of my neck. Your whiskers pinpricked against my cheek. The little left scent of your aftershave lingered. How many other women had you marked today with this scent?

‘Two thousand and twenty will be a great year for us,’ you said softly into my ear. Do you believe the words your dribble into existence?

As you embraced my shoulders, the roundness of your belly pushed against my back. The best I could do was know the moment would not last forever. You had me ensnarled in your intentions, pinned with no out.

You continued, ‘I’m sorry for all that happened last year, let’s move past it. I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you do for me, for the company. You know how much I love you, don’t you?’ 

What a hoot! Your capacity to understand me is in equal parts missing and misunderstood. I think for myself you know. I am intelligent. That’s why I hold the position I do. You are not used to a woman who speaks her mind. You are not familiar with a woman who has no desire to open her legs for you. To care for the love of a man such as yourself is bewildering to me. The thought of lying naked with you in a generic hotel room, white sheets, box shower, untouched minibar is difficult to conjure. I think of you exiting the shower wiping your bald head making promises to make yourself feel good. Your protruding belly makes your penis look small. I try and imagine your cum face as you ejaculate whilst looking in the mirror to confirm ‘yes, you are the man’. It is hard to imagine any of these things when my loathing for you sits perched on the pinnacle of integrity looking down at everything I disrespect in you.

You may fool some, you don’t fool me. Perhaps the female company you keep forgot to buy brains whilst they were on sale at K-Mart. Your wife too, turning a blind eye, a fool. Women, at times, will have blurred vision when you shower them in money. 

You are incapable of believing people may actually see you for who you are. I see you. 

– Liar, cheat, womaniser, sweet talker, manipulator, deal-breaker, liar, cheat – 

With no response to your confession of love, I laugh. There is no alternative reaction bursting from my mind as you and your body envelops any kind of retaliation I may have. You continue to hold me. Desperate you are to manipulate yourself back into some kind of decent relationship with me. It is too late, I see you. 

I play your game for my own benefit. You don’t make me feel uncomfortable with your advances. Maybe I should, but you don’t. Hold me as long as you like. I enjoy feeling the warmth of another human against my body. I see you. We can play this game of dress ups if you like. The game will advance to chess. You are cunning, I don’t know if I shall ever win. I shall die trying. 

You have me because I work for you. You pay me well enough to play along. Pay to play – excellent company values darling.

You deserve to be exposed. You think you are untouchable. In the world of players, people respect and admire you. 

In my reality, I have not for one second since I laid eyes on you, ever liked you. I have always seen you, and you, my boss, are the scum of the earth.


Authors Note: this is a tribute to all the women at work who keep on keepin’ on. A tribute to those who know they are being mistreated because of power or sex. I’m no feminist, in fact far from it, but I do have to wonder where and when their voices can be heard when women feel like their jobs and careers could be on the line when they speak up about mistreatment. Think about it, the women who do speak up risk outing themselves as troublemakers to future employers – so – what to do? The women who suck it up lay the ground for future advances. It’s a tricky balance, but integrity must prevail. 

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