A Grudge to Share

A couple of days passed. Very little was said about the success or failure of his boss’s meeting. But since Mathias still had a job, he presumed his work had been adequate and, to his relief, his boss had not bared her breasts in his cubicle in order to thank him for a job well-done. Best of all, she had left him alone. 
As he sat in front of his computer monitor he tried hard to focus on the numbers before him, but all he could think about was that it was Friday and he wouldn’t have to see his boss for two full days. Maybe he’d go somewhere to get away, or get gloriously drunk or high. Shoving his hand into his trousers’ pocket, he pulled out his wallet and opened it up. Forget the travel. He could buy some booze and escape that way. Exhaling with the realization that his college degree was not paying off nearly as well as he had originally hoped, Mathias closed the wallet and stuck it back in his pocket. This is just a stepping stone…this is just a stepping stone. Someday, you’ll have more. You’ll have money, success, respect, and women. He swallowed with his high aspirations. Okay, money and success and respect. Then the women will fall in line. He pulled off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. He stared at the dorky things. Money and respect would be nice. 
“Margolis, get me some water.” 
He looked up with the command. Holy shit, you fucking bitch, I have a BS in accounting. I am not your damned servant— 
“Yes, Ms. Wilkins,” he muttered, watching her drop off her cup. She walked back to her office. 
Just give me some damn respect. That’s all I want. Angrily clicking away on his adding machine, he added up columns of numbers effortlessly, his fingers moving like a fine instrument, and he reminded himself just how lucky she was to have him there in the little, lonely cubicle that was his office space. You’re better than this, Mathias. You’re better than her. She’s one operation away from plasticity. She’ll never be you. You’re young, smart… 
He sat there in mid-stroke of his fingers. He saw the bandaged digit he had ripped open with his teeth the other day. Okay. You’re young and smart. Go with that. 
Frustrated, he pushed his chair away from the desk and left his area to travel the various corridors amidst endless cubicles to the water cooler. The whole time it took to get there he kept remembering the horrible, fucked-up fantasy he had of his wretched boss on a hundred-degree afternoon. Mathias, you’re not just young and smart but you’re slightly screwed in the head. You sick, motherfucker, you— 
The accountant stopped short. There he was. The well-built, tall, handsome guy. The guy with the Corvette. He was getting more hot water. What was the deal with the tea? He didn’t look like a tea drinker. 
“Griffin Taylor!” An impeccably dressed, older man came up. “Such a pleasure to see you! I’ve been hearing great things about you—” 
Mathias watched the pleasantries as he wedged his way in to get water. He stood close to the guy everyone liked and he wondered just what it was about him that drew people to him like a magnet. Griffin Taylor. Even the name was hard and strong. 
The thinner man stood at the water cooler filling the old lady’s cup all the while he took in the popular employee. He wondered how many pussies he’d fucked with that hard and strong name of his— 
Shit! The water ran over and both men turned to look at the buffoon next to them. Mathias wiped off his wet hand on his trousers and set the cup down, looking for paper towels to put on the soaked carpet at his feet. 
“It’s okay, dude, I’ll take care of it.” 
He stopped. What was that? 
Griffin was smiling. “Don’t worry. I’ll wipe it up.” He motioned to the full cup of water. “You better get that back to Wilkins or she’ll have your head on a platter.” Suddenly, he laughed. 
That laugh. Mathias stared at the face that went with that laugh. Then he checked him out close-up. It wasn’t that he was any taller than Mathias, but he was muscular and toned, an obvious sports enthusiast. He continued smiling and those white teeth stood out against a backdrop of clear, tanned perfection that was his complexion. His brown eyes, light in color, matched his straight, feathery hair which looked so good when he pulled off the football helmet and shook it out— 
Oh no! Widening his eyes, Mathias grabbed the cup and hurried back to his department. Shaking, he knocked on her office door and waited for her to call him in. When she did, he opened the door, rushed inside and set the water down on her desk. But before he could escape, she stopped him. 
“Margolis!” 
He stood at the door, his back to her. He turned slowly. 
“I forgot to tell you, good job on the numbers the other day.” 
Uh oh. Not again. Was it getting hot in the room? He watched her actions carefully. She wasn’t rising from behind the desk nor was she making moves to disrobe. She just sat there and looked at him impatiently. 
“Close the door on your way out.” 
Exhaling in relief, Mathias nodded and shut the door. Quickly, he made his way to his cubicle where he got to the chair just in time before his weakened knees gave out.