Mrs. Curt's eyes grew bigger from the late-night sleep as she tried moving her body, but it was so stiff. She crawled and rolled off the bed, slamming her ass onto the ground.
"Oh shit!" She yelled, her eyes rolling at the air. She made her way back to the bed and sat on it, hands sore and itchy from the tapping and eyes darkened.
A call from her phone jerked her up; she hissed and placed it on her ear waiting for the person to yell as he wanted. "Where are you? Mr. Curts?" Her boss snarled as his breath hitched through the call.
"Do you care at all? Why can't you mind your damn business, huh?" Curt groaned, with her eyes rolled in the air. "You dare! Get your ass here right now!" Mr. Johnson yelled at the top of his voice, as it pierced through her ears. "Why? Today was my day off." She hissed and sassed.
"Your day off? Huh, get here now and clean up the mess you caused." Before Curt could say a word, the phone hung up. "Oh shit!" She slammed her hands against the pillow as the pain dropped down her elbow and to her waist, leading to a scream.
Without any thought, she rose from her bed and grabbed her car keys and walk outside. At the door entrance, she glanced at her one-bathroom flat before walking outside and straight to her car. Her neighbor, a young mom of two, greeted her. On a normal day, Mrs. Mrs. Curts would have rushed and hugged the kids, but today she was not in for that. She only waved at them before hopping inside the car.
Sweaty hands gripped firmly around the steering wheel as she got focused on the road. It was calm and well-kept; apartments close by were for middle-class families, and she was one. Fifty minutes gone, still in her seat, as a long traffic jam pulled at the front.
She scanned the whole scene, people with their cars parked, busying themselves with their phones while waiting for a clear way. Without further thought, Mrs. Curts moved back and did a U-turn, driving to the other side of the road, for cars coming. Everyone watched her magic; even with some police close by, she starts her engine and drove faster.
Tension flew down her spine as she tried controlling the steering, not allowing anything to happen to it. An hour gone, she finally exhaled deeply before parking close to the law firm building.
"Good to see you, Mrs. Curts." Bright was her enemy and competitor but also a colleague in the profession. "Yes, and you too. Do you need my help in the market case?" She scoffed as he mumbled some words and rolled his eyes at her.
With so much satisfaction, Mrs. Mrs. Curts tugged a smile and headed over to the elevator. The elevator opened, and a lot of people were inside. She took a deep breath, before squeezing her body into the crowd, inhaling the sharp rotten sweat that flew into the air. Almost pulling her for a puke, but she held her breath, inhaled deeply, and faced the wall.
Finally, she walked out of the elevator. She couldn't understand why her heart skipped a beat, her eyes darkened, and her legs lacked blood circulation. For a moment, she stood there, bowing and hitting her chest, while gasping for more air.
Finally, she got herself back, and walked toward the hallway, her hands trembling and eyes batting. Just her boss's voice alone could pull the wall to the ground. A husk grew stronger and stronger, from Johnson's office.
She tiptoed gently while walking over to the door, and then, she arrived. Her hands were already in the motion to knock but held back, lips parting and face sweating. Someone suddenly slid the door open, and Mrs. Curts's knees unbuckled as she jerked off and supported her body on the wall.
"Oh, Mrs. Curts." Sasha said, "her good colleague." "Yes, is Mr. Johnson around?" she managed to croak, even though her legs got a little sprint.
"Yes, he is. I thought today was your day off?" Sasha asked, scanning her body, eyebrows widened.
"Yes… I'm fine, just need a little chat-talk with him, "she explained. "Alright, be careful." Sasha warned, but in a calm tone; everyone feared Mr. Johnson, not because he was young but because he never messed up his work.
"Come in." Mr. Johnson's voice pulled out from inside. Mrs. Mrs. Curts jerked off and recalled she had been standing there, holding the door wide open without moving. "I'm so sorry, I was…" she stammered while heading inside.
"Please do, have a seat." Mr. Johnson responded, ignoring her tense look. Mrs. Mrs. Curts glanced at him, still shocked over what just happened. He wasn't an apologies type, and now he did that.
"Good day, sir, you called for my attention." She cleared her throat, even though her fingers were shivering. She tried hiding them beneath her seat as she bowed down and awaited his response.
"Yes, I did. I had received so many complaints from your client, and that isn't good at all," he explained, folding his legs. Mr. Curt glanced at him; he wore a blue suit with a black tie and a brown office shoe, fitting his well-styled short black hair and his golden marriage ring.
"What do you mean, sir? What's the complaint?" She questioned, even though he wasn't a man to be amused. Mr. Johnson stared at her one more time, pulled off from his seat, and went to his little library, which contained more novels than law books. Everyone usually wondered why he chose to be a writer, but he did say, "A writer should act as a writer in all places."
"Mrs. Curts, in my own world. I do believe that we foxes are naturally smart, and that's why the world alone begged for her knowledge." He took a deep breath, and his tongue clicked. "But if we don't use our brain properly, what would happen to us?"
"I don't know." Mrs. Mrs. Curts responded.
"Because I gave you a single task to protect this VIP client, and what did you do? Let him be assaulted by some weird angry crowd?"
What? Hurt?