Chapter Thirty-Five-Araba

                                    

                                          
I knew I shouldn't have gone to work today. As I pranced through the hallway without Emma beside me, all the workers kept on glaring at me. Hushed whispers followed me behind my back. When I passed by a group having a normal conversation, they stopped talking and stared at me. I couldn't stop biting my nails. Stress overwhelmed me and I didn't know what to do. I raced into the bathroom and unbuttoned my suit slightly to get some air. I repeatedly told myself that coming to this office after those videos went out would be a crazy idea. Maybe I should quit the internship like Emma did, but I needed the TV experience.
I needed this job to add to my resume. Emma may not have given a crap about my aspirations. I'd finally come to realize that she didn't want to share this dream of being a daytime TV host but rather spend the rest of her life with a shady, perverted comedian half her age, a man who only wants to have Emma for his personal sex toy and nothing more. All the men I've seen her with wanted the same thing. Just because she was blond and blessed with a gracious body. 
Getting out of my head, I realized my finger was about to hit the dial button on Emma's number. I got off the toilet and sprinted back into the hallway, deciding that for once, I wouldn't want to involve Emma in my life. I could last one whole day without thinking about her or worrying if she was safe living in some giant mansion with a man with lustful desires for her. If Emma didn't want to spend the rest of her life with me, then she could go on living with Murphy Grey. 
I laughed to myself as I stepped into the kitchen. "A day without Emma," I muttered. "You are so funny, Araba Dadzie. You know you are going to march straight to his mansion after work. You love her no matter what." I grabbed my iced tea flask bottle from the fridge to steal a few sips. Oh, Emma. You don't love this man at all, I thought. He's using for sex. And guess what, he thinks it's funny. 
The door opened and standing right in front of me was someone I hadn't thought about for quite a while. "I saw the videos," Helenor said in a low voice. "I told you she was up to no good, that friend of yours."
I narrowed my eyes at her. "Watch how you talk about my best friend, Helenor."
"Listen to me." With one hand clutching her pregnant belly, Helenor caught my arm in a firm grip. "Ow!" I bellowed.
"I may not know you very well, but I've seen the way you are with that girl. I've been silently observing you two and it's clear she has some sort of control over you."
"What?" I snatched my arm from her. "That's not true."
"Keep denying it. She tells you do stuff you don't want to. But you still do. That reads controlling to me. I know she forced you to go to that party just to make her happy. You may think she's your best friend but a girl like that only looks out for herself." Helenor took a step back towards the door. "I'll advice you again. She's trouble. Stop trying to please her all the time because she's using you for something. You're not safe being her friend." 
Before I could fight back, Helenor left. I stood there reflecting on what she said about Emma being controlling. She sounded just like Gershon and Ama. I didn't get it at all. How could Emma be controlling when I've been the one who willingly rides with her wherever she goes? Human beings are so judgy towards one another. 
Back in the hallway, I ran into Marty who didn't look pleased to see me at all. I swallowed. "Good morning, sir. I-"
"Follow me upstairs now," he said without looking back at me. I bit on my fingernails again as we climbed the stairs. Two interns seated in a corner giggled. This was like being called to the headmaster's office all over again. I knew I should have stopped working here. He was definitely about to let me go. Inside the conference room, he closed the door behind me. I uttered a sigh of relief because I expected a whole board or team of lawyers to be waiting for me or something. 
"I-"
"When a reporter comes asking you questions about the party," Marty said cutting me off. "You tell them you don't work here. You've never worked a day here in your life. Say you're a twenty-three-year-old woman who he met online or whatever. Just don't tell anyone you worked here as an intern. Got it?"
I nodded. "Okay, sir." Without any words, Marty left. He spoke so fast I didn't even believe I heard everything he said.