“You do realize she cannot get a job because of this company, right? She was a fucking server because of you and I,” Marc says with a deep frown. I keep my mouth shut because he’s not directing his anger at me.
“That’s not my problem,” Dad says, raising his voice. “She should have chosen a different degree then.”
“What the fuck is your problem, Allen?” Marc says as he stands up. Fuck. What a time for him to get protective.
“My problem? You didn’t even tell me until you had already hired her, Marc. Now it’s going to be a huge deal and I get made out to be the bad guy,” Dad says as he stands as well. I get up and back away. I’m not sure why. Dad hasn’t hit me, but he’s come pretty fucking close a few times when we’ve argued. His body language is so similar right that that it’s causing me to feel panicked. Marc notices my reaction to Dad’s escalation, which only escalates him more.
“You’re the bad guy in this situation, Allen. What is the big deal about her working here?” Marc asks.
“Because she’s never going to learn how to stand on her own two feet if everyone babies her. We built this shit up from the ground. She doesn't get to come in here and not earn it,” Dad shouts.
“I don’t even know who the fuck you are right now,” Marc says, turning to me. “No wonder you never told anyone.”
“Didn’t tell me what?” Dad asks.
“Wouldn’t you like to fucking know,” Marc laughs dryly. “You know, you’d know way more about your daughter if you fucking paid attention.”
“Like you pay attention to Sable? The girl goes through boyfriends like socks,” Dad snaps back.
“At least I don’t let my daughter live in fucking poverty,” Marc shouts it dad. “Way to fucking go, Allen. You tried so fucking hard to keep her from turning out to be a druggie like her mom that you had her living in a building full of addicts where a drunk man in a hallway getting bitten by rats was her only protection. You were so fucking focused on trying to make her stronger that you completely missed that she was literally starving and not using her heat so she could afford her power bill. That is your fault, Allen. Yours. Not hers. Not mine. You made her so afraid to ask for help from anyone that when I found out how bad it was, she had gone days without eating while spending twenty bucks on a week’s worth of food.”
“What?” Dad asks, then looks at me. “Is this true? Why didn’t you tell me it was so bad?”
“Because you don’t care,” I say bluntly.
“Raven... That’s not fair...” Dad says.
“Fair? I got my first job at fourteen and I paid you rent,” I say. “I know you are still mad at Mom for dying... I get it”
“You don’t get it, Raven...”
“I lost her too,” I yell at him. “You don’t think I know how fucking angry you are? She decided to get high and overdose instead of coming to my tenth birthday party. I begged you two for that goddamn party. You don’t think I feel guilty every fucking day because I wanted to feel wanted for once, only to get home and find my dead mother? I think all the time that if I just hadn’t been so fucking selfish then maybe we could have saved her and got her help.”
“Raven... it’s not your fault, sweetie,” Dad says softly.
“Oh yeah? How many fucking times did you call me selfish when she died, huh? How many times have you called me a burden for wanting your attention?” I ask.
“Here’s the deal,” Marc says. “She has been hired as my assistant. I got her into one of my apartments that I had free. I’m pretty sure her car is going to kill her one day, so I’m going to get her into something safer. I’m not asking you. I’m telling you.”
“Okay,” Dad says simply.
“Fix your shit and make it up to her because she deserves way better than what you’ve given her. Building character doesn't mean she should have to be destitute,” Marc says. “She and I need to discuss things, so if you could leave us to it...”
“Right,” Dad says. “I’ll leave you to it.” Dad hugs me without a word, then leaves the room.
“That went... better than I thought,” I say.
“Christ, Ravy,” Marc sighs and hugs me tightly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” I reassure him.
Marc pulls back and kisses me gently before. “Let’s go over this stuff so I can fuck you on my desk.”
Three Months Later
I send my last email for the day before I gather my belongings and stand. Working here has been amazing. I love every bit of it. I thought it would be hard to work for Marc, but it’s wonderful. He is firm with his expectations but is fair. He doesn’t mix business with pleasure, so unless we are truly free, he doesn’t touch me. If we have free time though, he will happily fuck me anywhere he can. Marc has fucked me all over this building. His desk, his chair, both conference rooms, both break rooms, a janitor's closet, and the parking deck. How we haven’t been caught is a miracle.
Billy works in maintenance here at the office now. He is still the same sweet man that he was before, only now he looks so much healthier. Marc got him into a different apartment now that he can afford better. He told him that a new job meant new standards and that started with his home life. Marc acts tough, but he’s a softie.