COFFEE MACHINE

Xenia woke up to the click-lock sound of Gregory's door.

She stretched her hand to look at the time on her phone.

Shit.

Why didn't she wake up?

Xenia's throbbing head reminded her how she kissed her job goodbye with a bottle of Bordeaux the night before when she discovered who her new neighbor was.

Now Gregory was sure to arrive on time, and he would add her tardiness to the plate with the fact she was squatting Anya Fernster's apartment.

Since the doors had no peephole, Xenia had unlocked and closed hers in the middle of the night to make it sound as though Anya had returned just in case.

Perhaps Gregory was fast asleep and didn't notice. There was no time to ponder; Xenia had to get ready for work.

The head sprung woman dashed under the shower; it was against her laws to go out with a simple face wash.

Some people would say she didn't possess the notion of priorities, and she would reply she had a sense of hygiene and respecting her body was a priority.

After a bit of face bake, where Xenia put on MAC BB cream and a Matte lipstick from the same brand she left.

Xenia walked to the metro, and she made a mental note to stop by Sephora to try Rihanna's FENTY make-up collection that her younger sister Louise kept raving about all the time after work.

Even though Xenia had no man in her life, she was a mom, and none the less a woman taking care of her appearance was beneficial for her self-esteem.

Xenia fixed her wig, and she was off.

The day's wig was a curly piece, and Xenia already smiled in anticipation of the comments.

There was always someone to say, "I like the hair, or damn, your hair grows fast."

Xenia would usually reply, "I'm like my sister's Dolly Surprise, you pull on the arm, and whoop, you have long hair like cousin Thing."

"Come on, Xenia, you shouldn't be thinking about your hair. You are running late," she said to herself as she stepped out of the building with her Flyknits. She ran to the station; luckily, transportation was on her side.

Why did Gregory leave so early?

The office wouldn't even be open at his arrival. At the same time, he didn't know Paris, but he was too precautious.

XY XX

The security guards blinked twice when they saw Xenia come in.

"Holy Jesus, we weren't notified there was a meeting.'"

"There isn't," Xenia replied.

"Then why are you here? You don't start like before fifteen minutes," Mr. Keita said, looking at the wall clock above the receptionist's desk.

At that moment, Xenia realized how Gregory had stressed her so much that she didn't follow her watch. He left early, and so did she, Gregory played the pacemaker, and she walked the line on his beat.

"Anyway, congratulations, you are right on time for the 3rd time this year," Mr. Keita said.

"Seriously, you kept count?"

"Your tardiness and the little bubble you carry around behind you are famous," Micheal replied.

Bubble, what bubble? Xenia thought as her mind slowly emerged into work mode. All she registered was the sentence held a sleazy meaning.

The business developer swiped her badge and walked to the lift, where she met Priscilla.

"Good lord, I think I'm going to cry. I should take my phone out to commemorate this magical moment. Xenia N'diaye is on time."

"Stop it. What is it with you all? You'd think I'm never on time," Xenia said with a smirk.

"Never is the right word," the brunette said.

XY XX

As the lift doors on the eighteenth floor opened, Priscilla and Xenia fell upon Cassie.

"Well, well, what do we have here? It's going to rain cows wearing Hunter boots."

Xenia wondered why people with red hair always associated green somewhere on their outfits as she stared at Cassie's forest green satin shirt.

"Good morning Cassie," Priscilla said in her usual perky voice.

Everyone made sure to be in the redhead's good papers; Cassie was one of those people whose grudge would survive on beyond the grave.

"Morning," Xenia stepped out of the lift and started to advance without saying hello to her superior. Crossing Cassie was one of the things Xenia would have wished to avoid.

Cassie was all smiles, smirk, and not stirred as she spoke, "Xenia, don't you have something to say?"

"Good morning, Mrs. Jensen."

A grin of satisfaction made its cameo appearance on Cassie's face before she turned and walked away.

"Priscilla, please bang a stake into my heart. I just want to die," Xenia said as she watched Cassie strut proudly to her office, red soles clicking all the way.

"Well, who had the stupid idea of saying whoever loses the promotion will call the other by his surname or title?"

"I know, it was dumb, but the b-witch recorded it."

"What did you expect? It's Cassie, the girl who steals files and produces other people's ideas as though they were hers."

Everyone knew how Cassie got her promotion and how Xenia's file for Bel Laboratories got erased. But the contract was saved by Cassie, who happened to have an entire backup ready.

Without any scruples, Cassie explained how a department's head job was to filter and anticipate. A sentence that was now part of Astoria's Edmonds manager training program. The b-witch was well prepared, befriending people in different services and urging everyone to talk about Bel's strategy.

Cassie kissed butt like no one, an aptitude which she knew Xenia's pride prevented her from doing; thus, she had the upper hand.

XY XX

"We still got five minutes. Let's go for a coffee," Priscilla suggested.

While the coffee machine did its job drilling and pouring, the girls talked.

Xenia shook her head, "I can't believe I have to spend another day as that guy's minion."

"I would be his minion anytime. Did you see his blue eyes and that voice? I feel like we have 007 working with us."

Xenia observed her colleague, who seemed under the influence of some illegal substance, as Priscilla clutched her hands and lifted her eyes to the ceiling in praise.

"You girls are crazy; even Niki is ranting and raving about the man's so-called sex appeal, I tell you, a tin can of sardines is sexier than him, my postman is hotter than him, Gerard Depardieu is more sensual than him.

"The man thinks he's the Messiah, carving the ten commands here on his first day. He's an obnoxious constipated prick with a pole stuck up so high that he can be a merry-go-round ornament."

Priscila's eyes widened, "Xenia, you are going too far."

"What, why are your eyes as big as saucers? Is he behind me or something?"

Priscilla nodded before quickly blurting out, "bonjour, monsieur Carlton."

"Ahem, I'm glad you made it on time, Mrs. N'Diayéee," Gregory said, stressing the é, making it sound as though he strangled her name by default since he couldn't grab her throat.

"I see your mouth is in perfect shape to call all the accountants in your wallet to update their files in a report you will give me before leaving this office today."

"Are you serious?"

Gregory's blue eyes turned raging tides for the occasion attested the man wasn't joking at all.