Creating The World Web Country

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Chapter Three

Back at work, G and I both accepted we can’t talk publicly about this clearly classified operation. I’m still coming to terms with the fact that I have raised a child that wasn’t mine for so many years. If these people who have been keeping an eye on me have entered my life, it seems preposterous that they would make something up like this. I’m coming to terms with the fact that Stacey and I are coming to an end.

I’ve got mixed feelings about G. She’s not very warm, she’s the cause of all this headwork and the source of that terrible news about my daughter, or should I say; someone else’s daughter.

If I want to go and chat with G, I always get a decent conversation in return. Nothing too out of the ordinary. I think she knows she’s said enough to start with. I start speaking to the other secretary that I’d known for a while since she’d been working there. She’s a mother figure to me who knows how to talk to me. She asked how my home life was, and I responded honestly.

“Not very good and it hasn’t been for many years. We were just together for the kids, she isn’t making any effort with me and vice versa. We both love our kids and put all the positive attention to them. She’s showing no signs of wanting to work or even thinking about any education course. With hardly any education, a long break in work, and with no goals to get started, it wasn’t looking good. She would say things like,” “I can be a stay-at-home mum, you can just bring in the money if it matters that much to you.” It’s not ‘that it matters to me.’ It’s because we need money to live. We need both parents working to maintain a family of four, but she seems to think we can maintain the way we live! We are living in the bloody 21st centenary as young parents! This is only my third year after graduating from university and I wasn’t on an amazing salary. So, if it wasn’t for my side projects, I wouldn’t be able to maintain it. Plus, I’d have to sell the house to release the funds, so until then, I’m the sole earner in the household. This had been going on for 8 years and I felt enough was enough.

She always agreed that she wouldn’t get in the way of me seeing the children. They are both in school, she’s staying home. I could see them just a slight amount less, and not be with her. At least it would be a happier home atmosphere and I wouldn’t be wasting the next 15 years to wait until the kids are both in university.

The receptionist agreed. As a mother herself, she said “You shouldn’t stay together just because of the kids. It won’t be good for them or you.” Following this, I was hearing messages through either people talking near me, radio, or television.

“We’ve checked, and it never works out”

“You can’t take her with you,”

“She’s holding you back, she’s no good for you.”

“The only way this is going to work is if you leave. Your life is at stake, don’t mess this up!”

Scary. These messages always seemed to come through while I was contemplating our relationship. Strange, but at the time, I was too deep in thought to question how well-timed they were.

At that time, I was working on the biggest project in the office. Not only that, but the boss had asked me to run the project with three other colleagues. This included two Senior Engineers and an Associate. He didn’t give much direction, just told me to sort it out. I modeled the building almost a mile long in a 3D modeling program and allocated work to the relevant people based on their capabilities. This started to cause a bit of a power struggle within the team. People who are twice my age being told what to do by someone with just over three years of total professional experience. Seemed daft, but the tasks that I assigned were still being done slowly and sloppily. They either couldn’t concentrate, work quick enough, or know how to use the software properly. It was about time for a pay rise if I’m going to be churning out the majority of the work and also run a 4-person project that was under-resourced.

Time for the Christmas party. We start with a speech once everyone has arrived. After some of the annual summary formalities are out of the way, some other people start to talk. One person said, “I Love… this company.” When she said the words Love, G looks at me with loving eyes. Another employee says a speech and feels compelled to say the same thing. Again, G stares at me each time the “Love” word is mentioned. At this point, I was convinced she’d been stalking me for a while.

The managing director concludes the speeches with, “You should all look forward to next year,” at this point, he’s staring directly at me. “There’s going to be some big changes coming very soon. Very big changes!”

From one swanky place to the next, I got a bit too drunk. But nothing unacceptable. G’s keeping her distance but keeping an eye on me the whole time. I end up seeing my neighbor in the crowd and have a dance and chat with her.

G had three large men in suits with very serious looks on their faces follow her around the whole night. A few people from the office also noticed them. It wouldn’t surprise me if there were others mixed around the crowd. Not very convincing under-covers. My neighbor asks “Who are they?” I brush it off like it’s normal. She must be questioning what exactly it is that I do for work that requires personal bodyguards. They might be here because of G, but they seem to be quite close to me a lot of the time as well.

They had the same wide-eyed stare that would be unbroken and never look away from whoever looked at them. Nobody would hold their gaze. We then go to another bar, am stood chatting in a crowd with some colleagues next to G and despite not that much chatting, she reaches into my hand and strokes my palm. She then gets shy when I look at her. For such a strong and powerful woman, she is very shy around me. I didn’t want to go too fast or be too forward. Plus, I was still with my existing girlfriend. I could tell it would be detrimental to make any mistakes. The words “Be very careful” still echoed around in my mind.

I then start charming the chair-lady of the company, mainly to get into her good books. She is a good-looking woman for someone who is around 65 years of age. She went to the effort of getting dressed up and was strangely similar to G. I often thought there were similarities; as though they were related somehow. It would explain some curiosities. I didn’t take things too far but the financial director asked me to leave because I was a bit too drunk. I think he was looking out for me as well because he knew it was risky out on the lash with these people. So, I left. No big deal, most people had gone by then anyway.

I got on the train and realize that two of the bodyguards were following me. I was a little pissed off, continued drinking on the train. I wanted to see what they’d do. Do they work with the police?

Someone nearby said “You can’t drink on here boy!”

“What’s it to you, prick?!”

I guess the combination of getting fuked with, being followed mixed with drinking has got me on a short fuse.

Two steroid heads were at the end of the cart scathing, I guess they liked being the hard men. So, when I got off the train, one said to me “I’ll smash you up.” I shrug them off, by this time I’d calmed down a little and didn’t want to provoke them. I’ll stand my ground if I have to, but I doubt anything will happen.

They get off the same stop as mine. Well, I’ll be wary, but I’m ready. They look past me and say to each other “are they with him?” That’s when I realized, that the two undercovers were most certainly following me. As soon as the two steroid heads realized, they promptly got back on the train. I might have dodged a bullet there! I walk back to mine, which was about a 20-minute walk. The undercovers follow me pretty much the whole way there until I get to the end of my street. I felt quite privileged to get some back up for my trip back.

I can hold my own, but with two beef heads looking for trouble, the odds were against me. Quite a lucky coincidence that the undercover security happened to decide to follow me and be there just at the time that mattered.

When I got home, I woke my girlfriend up for a roll in the sheets. I did this because I knew it was over between us and it felt like break-up sex. I felt so guilty that she didn’t know yet. I’d forgiven her for cheating on me so long ago and I guess she’d forgiven herself after so many years. I had made my choice no matter how scary it was. Despite not having sex for months at a time, this one was full of effort. I guess, it was also as an appreciation for the time we had spent together, despite the down times, she was still the person who had gone through the most with me in my adult life. But our journey together was coming to an end. It had been for a long time, but until something substantially eventful happened, we were going to carry on. This was substantial enough. I was clearly not allowed to bring her with me to whatever or wherever these people wanted me. It’s either give this a go without her, or not at all. I’ve always had the urge to get to the very top throughout my life. I didn’t know why I should be there. I didn’t want the fame and glory; I just knew I could make a real difference and that somehow it was my purpose in life.

Back to work, G looks at me startled while I chat with her with other people around. I start talking about what happened after, and she looks at me with panic and hurt. Obviously I wouldn’t mention the train incident. I felt like I’d partially cheated on her that night, and she looked hurt. How could she have known? I turned my phone off that night and Stacey’s was off.

She must have either had word from her goons or watched me on the recordings she probably has access to during the weekend. How would she know what I did at home? Could she see what I was doing there? Maybe hidden cameras of some sort? So strange.

Later that day, I walk towards the foyer. One of the admin staff who was chatting to G looks at me and drops her glass which smashes on the floor. I think I may have walked in on them talking about me... She struggled to pick the shards of glass up without cutting herself. I give her a hand and put the pieces in the broken base. G looks at her threateningly. She then asks me to stop and says “No! Your hands!” Staring at them like they have some sort of power. Hahaha! G’s prestige has been partially passed to me due to there being a link between us.

One of my colleagues, who I used to be mates with and go on lunch with has been seeing my progression, and as the previous ‘go-to guy’ of the office. I’ve got to keep an eye out for him as anything said in his presence (two desks down from me) needs to have a cautious filter applied. I’ve learned never to trust a guy with a weasel laugh.

Nothing too eventful happens before we all leave for the Christmas break. I chat to G, sat on the side, chilling. She’s happy with how calm I am. About an hour later, I see her sat on the floor next to my perch spot. This is a good submissive sign of sitting lower than me. It may be a small thing, but the subconscious body language from that action means a lot coming from someone who is far more powerful than me in the first place. It’s harder to hide, and many people aren’t even aware of the signals they are putting out because they don’t read body language.

G could read people, it was clear, but it doesn’t make her unreadable. Many people who say all the right things but are clearly against me, and they wonder how on earth did I see through their charade? They have been good at being two-faced for so long, and I see through them like glass. It’s a gift and a curse, to others who can’t read; they think that the nice people (majority) are all on their side. Nothing more. To me, I see people change sides regularly, then feel compelled to figure out why.

Ahh well, that’s office politics for you. Good thing it’s time to go home. Chat to G, no exchange of numbers, not needed really and I’d look the dick seeing as I still have a girlfriend. We walk downstairs together, and she gets picked up in a Rolls Royce outside by a chauffeur. I think that was intentional. She wanted to show off and keep giving me hints to affirm what’s to come. Whatever, see you next year, you mad with power royal head fudge!

I love my kids more than anything, but I wasn’t going to let ‘traditional household’ values get in the way of the biggest opportunity I’ve ever had. This was my in; this was my chance. This was what I had waited so long for that I pretty much accepted that it would never happen. That was it. I’d see them anyway, as often as I could, and make someone of myself that they could be proud to call me their father. I’d rather not think of only having one child, they are both mine, biological or not. It would be unfair otherwise.

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