Melanie's Fall - A Novella [Part 15]

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15

The meeting lasted for quite a while, so long in fact that Melanie had to excuse herself briefly in order to go to the toilet, but the true reason was to check on her throbbing wrist. If she hadn't been such a depressed failure, she may have been a psychologist or doctor of some sort, as she had an above average awareness of other people's feelings.

It was her own she couldn’t deal with.

Her wrist was fine, but it didn't look good. She always hated how cuts always looked worse than what they actually are. The stench of iron greeted her as she rolled her sleeve back down, but it was so slight it wouldn't be detected by anyone - Or so she thought.

As she opened the door to leave the toilet, she collided lightly with a woman who appeared to simply be in her 'normal’ surroundings, dressed richly and with a face that read Melanie thought read 'I'm snobby and up myself so stay away from me'. Melanie apologised immediately, but the woman regarded her with much suspicion, as if she were a criminal.

Melanie removed herself form the woman's presence as quickly as possible, suddenly making her feel very unwelcome and out of place. When Melanie returned to the table at which Mr. Smith was seated, finishing off his meal, she asked him straight away whether they could complete the meeting outside, as she was feeling very uncomfortable with her surroundings.

He agreed, gathering the manuscripts and placing them back into his briefcase, and as he closed it, Melanie was reminded of her initial interpretation of the latches being opened, two rhythmic gun barrel clicks. This time it sounded like the gun was being prepared for use, the safety clicking off and the trigger being pulled back slightly.

He led Melanie out of the restaurant, and when they made it outside he motioned toward his car, a luxury sedan. Melanie shook her head and led him over to her car, barely comparable to his not only in cost, but also in every other way that cars can be compared - power, size, efficiency etc…

She opened the passenger door and opened the glove box, getting out her cigarettes and an old lighter. She offered Mr. Smith one, but he shook his head in refusal. She lit one for herself and threw the packet onto the passenger seat before slamming the door shut.

“So when are we going to discuss the final editing of my novel before it goes to print?” Mr. Smith placed his briefcase on the roof of Melanie's car, reaching into his suit pocket for his organizer. He extracted it, flicking through the full pages until he reached a vacancy at the same time next week. “I'll meet you at the same time next week.”

Melanie jumped in before he could set a location for the appointment, and told him very quickly that she would not want to have the meeting at a similar venue. He agreed with her and arranged for it to be at his office, and he gave precise directions on how to get there.