Read The Other C-Word for Free Online

around and to cement his words, he provided examples of Rick’s past endeavours. I had to admit they were impressive. Rick had worked for small companies like ours to major conglomerates. He’d even worked for a few foreign governments’ travel bureaus. Mr Henley expressed we should all do whatever was necessary in helping Rick achieve the goals outlined to make our company more efficient and profitable. Rick gave a small speech too. I noticed most of the women were holding onto his every word. He had this deep, but soft tempo in his voice that made him sound both compassionate and commanding at the same time.
    I headed back to my desk, which was still outside my old boss’ office. My current work location was a deserted island where I was the only inhabitant. Ronald Bellman, my old boss, had a huge office. It even had one of those fake inside windows with blinds that added more light. My desk was right outside in what would constitute a reception area. An outer door separated me from my co-workers.
    I was glad Mr Bellman was gone, since he’d been kind of a jerk and expected my job should include running his personal errands and calling his wife to make excuses when he’d wanted to go out with his girlfriend. I’d fetched his coffee and run his errands, but I’d drawn the line at calling his wife. Still, it was strange having no one else in my little cocoon of an office. It wasn’t that I talked to my co-workers that much, but the absence of people made me lonely.
    At least I could listen to my radio. I scrolled through my iPod and settled on Monday Morning , by Fleetwood Mac. It seemed fitting.
    My best friend Dillon McKay came through the outer office door, grinning wildly at me. He pulled a chair up to my desk. “You’re dressed up today.”
    “Yeah, Stevie strikes again.”
    Dillon nodded approvingly. If Stevie was a fashion plate, Dillon was a fashion platter. He was skinny and tall, but he always dressed well. He was wearing a Dolce and Gabbana style paisley shirt and hip-hugging, black dress pants. We were a casual office, but Dillon always looked crisp, in my opinion. I mean, not a lot of guys could pull off purple paisleys, but Dillon did.
    “Ready for lunch?”
    “Yeah, I just have to email this report,” I replied.
    Dillon proceeded to re-arrange my office supplies while I checked my emails. Dillon was obsessive compulsive. The infliction didn’t completely rule his life as it did with some people, but he’d been much worse before he’d conceded to medication. These days, he mainly re-organised things. His own stuff was so perfect he had to concentrate on other people’s objects, which had resulted in his ostracism by many of our co-workers. Some people could be pretty picky about their stuff. I didn’t mind. I loved Dillon. We understood and accepted each other’s imperfections. We were more than just friends—Dillon was like a brother to me, and my family had practically adopted him. Last month, my mother had actually said to him, “I have three daughters and now with you I have everything I could ever want.”
    Dillon had responded, grinning wildly. “What’s that? A son?”
    “No…a gay son,” my mom had replied, hugging him. Dillon fitted into my non-traditional family perfectly, but his own parents had a hard time with his OCD and what they called his ‘life choices’.
    “So, he’s pretty fucking hot, huh?” Leave it to Dillon to start right in. I knew he was referring to Rick…a subject he’d been angling to talk to me about since the morning meeting.
    I shrugged. “He’s okay. He’s kind of arrogant.”
    “Come on, Marley, you were alone in a car with him. Give me some good dish.”
    I rolled my eyes. Dillon was practically panting as he wiped off some crumbs on the corner of my desk. “I know as much as you do. We just talked about the company. Mr Henley made him sound like Superman or something.” I didn’t think it would be right to reveal the few personal things