Chapter two

One year ago

“Every moment leads to some consequence,” Clair thought as she stood outside the door to her new job, outside the door of the world's most famous author, Johnathan Barlow. She looked at the tall oak doors, wondering how she landed a job as his assistant. She felt excited to start her career after graduating with a creative writing degree and moving to a new city. Clair looked around the neighborhood; she took a deep breath of the warm outside air while brushing her light brown hair from her eyes. “Most of these consequences are good,” she thought to herself before knocking three times, then she wondered if she had knocked enough times.

The door creaked open to a middle-aged mixed woman wearing some kind of uniform with a BM written in the middle of the light blue V-neck shirt. “Hello,” she said with a smile.

“Hello, my name is Clair. I'm here for Johnathan. I'm his assistant.” The woman looked at her for a moment.

“OH, that's right I'm so sorry,” She said standing aside and letting Clair through the doors. “With everything that goes on here, it must have slipped my mind that he had his new assistant coming today.”

Clair walked inside a small entryway with a closet door to the left and an arch leading to a large living room to the right. The woman walked her into the living room with a couch resting against the wall to the right and a television sat across from the couch against a stairway going upstairs. There was a dining room and kitchen just past the living room, “It's pretty open so what you see is what there is. Other than the door to the basement and garage, “the woman said pointing to a door a couple of feet past the T.V. where the living room and dining room meet. “There is a room where we keep an extra fridge with drinks you can always help yourself to. There is also a door to the basement and garage in there as well. The basement is off-limits,” she added with a smile. The woman had beautifully soft features, a mole just under the left side of her lip, and dark hair that Clair thought curled beautifully. “That archway leads to a hallway with my room and a bathroom you can use any time you want,” she added another detail while she pointed and rubbed her forehead as if she felt imprudent she forgot such a detail.

“Thank you,” Claire said, still thinking about how she was referred to as a new assistant. “Did you say I was his NEW assistant? I never realized he had an assistant” Claire asked, she put more emphasis on the word"new ".

“Yes, he likes to hire graduates so they eventually find a better job and we have to rehire,” The woman said, wearing the same smile as the other times she responded.

“Okay, I'm sorry I never caught your name.”

“My name is Margaret, but you can call me Maggie. I am Johnathan's house aide,” Maggie said. She reached out her hand with the same smile.

“Is that you, Clair?” A voice came from upstairs; Maggie’s smile was gone and she stared at Clair; Clair’s eyes darted around the room. The air became thick around them as they stood inside an anxious cloud.

Maggie reached out and grabbed Clair’s wrist. “You have some beautiful jewelry.” Maggie was twisting Claire's wrist, analyzing her rings and her bracelets. “ooh I like this ring.” Clair tore her hand from Maggie and ducked around the corner; she ran for the bathroom. Maggie told her about ignoring Mr. Barlow as he called for her.

Clair shut the door and pressed her ear against the door, “I think she just went into the bathroom,” she heard Maggie's voice. Clair looked into the mirror that hung on the wall just above the bathroom sink. She ran the situation through her head over and over, trying to make sense of it. Was she just complimenting my rings? She had asked herself.

Clair took a deep breath; It had to be some sort of misunderstanding. She observed herself in the mirror looking for any blemishes and to her gratitude she saw none except for. She stopped and her heart skipped a beat. There was an ingrown hair behind her ear; one she very well could hide behind her hair. She desperately took hand soap and scrubbed it, hoping that, by some miracle, it would wash off.

Clair Accepted bitter defeat as it glowed an angry red and she let her light brown hair flow over her shoulders just enough to hide what she thought resembled a mountain of ingrown hair. She took a deep breath and looked at her own green eyes before she looked down at her outfit: blue jeans and a loose shirt. She suddenly wished she had worn that tight flowery dress she thought was too dirty to wear earlier as she looked down, pulling on her shirt. This one didn't Show her breasts enough. She thought before a gentle knock on the door behind her pulled her back to reality.

“Are you okay Clair?” Maggie's voice came through a bit more gently than the way she spoke before. Clair's heart paced up. It was all a misunderstanding. She repeated to herself.

“Y-yes I'm sorry, I just had to use the restroom while you spoke with Mr. Barlow,” Clair said while making a quick move to turn the sink on… “Clink,” one of her rings fell into the sink and she watched open-mouthed as it slowly slid down the drain. Clair froze. She couldn't believe she was this much of a nervous wreck and she took a deep breath, remembering when she bought the ring from a Walmart when she was younger. Cheap as the ring was, it was still priceless to her, with its sterling silver band and a tiny blue gem shaped like a butterfly. She never even remembered what the gem was, only who it was supposed to remind her of.

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Clair reached her fingers into the drain, hoping by chance she could feel the cold metal band but she only felt slimy piping and, with eyes welled with tears, she cursed the sink for not having a stopper.

Clair whipped the tears off her face and took a deep breath, “The ring is not him,” she whispered and tried to collect herself before she opened the door to a smiling Maggie waiting for her at the end of the hall.

The ring is not him

“Clair, come up here. I'll show you the office.” Clair heard John say as she shut the bathroom door. Clair averted her eyes as she walked past Maggie and up the stairs to a hall that stretched back a couple of rooms.

“Hello,” Clair said, with the thought of her ring dissipating as she saw the face of a little girl hiding in a doorway at the end of the hall. The little girl smiled back at Clair. Her heart warmed until the girl ran back into the room.

“That's Alice. She is mostly a shy girl. Those are bedrooms and they are off-limits to you.” Jonathan said sternly

“Mr. Barlow it's a pleasure to meet you, I've been a huge fan for as long as I could read,” Claire excitedly said while reaching her hand out and doing her best to contain her excitement as she shook the hand of the man who unknowingly taught her so much. John was younger looking than she thought and stood half a foot taller than her at five foot eleven inches with short black hair cut into a fade and a thick beard that was cut short and lined sharply.

“Please, call me John. I am so lucky to have such a talented assistant and I must say you have your mother's eyes,” John said while shaking her hand.

“You knew my mother?” Claire asked, stunned. Her mother has never told her about knowing her favorite author.

“Yes, she was a senior at the college we attended together. We even dated back in college for a bit,” John said and Clair felt even more stunned. John walks into the room at the top of the stairs gesturing both his arms outward to the room, “This is where you will be spending most of your time while here.” John added.

Clair looked into the tiny room that looked as if it didn't belong in the house, with mounds of books stacked on the single desk at the end of the room. There were crumbles of paper around the trash can, as if John shredded paper and tried to throw it all into the trash and various stains littered on the carpet. The room had one desk and one window, but the room had no other doors other than the one Clair stood in. “The housekeeper doesn't come in here. I work better in a bit of a mess,” John said.

room,walked to the desk in the room avoiding the paper balls scattered around; she bent over picking up a ball and carefully unraveling it. She expected John to stop her but in her delight he let her read his garbage draft.

“I'm so tired of the truth, bleeding through the ink I write with. Whispering with every step I take. Can it stay hidden? Can I conceal enough of the truth to keep it hidden forever?” Clair read the first line, not completely understanding what it meant.

“I made a character that hides everything he does through writing. People eat up his writing, never knowing they read horrid truths,” John said from behind Clair.

“Can I study some of your writing to understand your style more?” Clair asked, intrigued to read more, but John only laughed as she picked up another crumbly piece of paper.

“Not my disposed writing,” he said, pointing to a top drawer of his desk. “I have a manuscript in there that I need you to read over.” John stayed seated as Clair opened the drawer and grabbed the manuscript. “Also, there are a group of writers that are meeting up at the local coffee shop starting this week,” John said with a pause while Clair read his manuscript. She noticed him looking but paid no mind to him and pretended to be zoned out over the manuscript.

John kept the silence going for a little longer before he spoke again, “I know because they attend the college I attended and the school sends me works from various aspiring authors and I figured since you are new to the city you might like to make friends with interests that align with your own.”

“Thank you, John. I will consider it,” Clair said appreciatively, and she meant it, but everything had already felt so overwhelming.

There was a loud ring from downstairs followed by Maggie's voice seconds later, “John, there is a call for you.”

“I'll be there in a second.” He called back to Maggie and stood up from his seat reaching his hand out to Clair, “It was a pleasure to meet you, I look forward to seeing you next Wednesday,” John said with a smile before Clair shook his hand and followed him down the stairs. Maggie was standing in the kitchen rapidly whispering the phone with her back against them as Clair walked to the front entrance. "OH, and one more thing, Clair," John said, stopping Clair as she was about to step outside his house. "I need you to start some sort of manuscript for me, and I want you to read at least the first chapter of mine before your first shift next Wednesday." Clair nodded in acknowledgement but felt frustrated he gave her work outside her pay.

Clair looked down the street, regretting her decision to walk instead of driving as she took her first exhausted step towards the bus stop, ultimately deciding to ride the bus since her heels felt like shit. She wasn't worried about walking outside after night in such a pleasant neighborhood; however, it was a different story once she reached the bus stop.

She sat on the bus avoiding eye contact with the men who stared at her and she let the reality of how she had moved to a new city completely alone. Would her family even know if she went missing?

“Hey sweetie,” She ignored an older man who walked past giving her a creepy gesture; she clutched her bag tightly the rest of the way home until she made it safely to her Apartment.