In the past three months I've been working at Igor Corporation, I've learned that Cassandra
Monroe is the bitchiest boss lady to have ever graced this planet. She may be beautiful,
neat and classy, but she's a German Shepherd. She doesn't give a fuck about anyone or anything.
And while she may think that it's a good thing, it's bad for her. It's bad for her reputation.
Every guy knows to steer clear of her direction. It's a shame such beauty and elegance can go to
waste. As a cleaner, I've heard all the stories about her, how she fires people on the spot,
insults their intelligence, and makes them feel like they had never been born.
Cassandra Monroe is callous and stone-hearted. I've had my fair share of her but I've never
let it get in the way of my work. She's always moody, and when she's not she's angry, she's ruthless,
or a formidable creature. I've seen Cassandra destroy two of her work phones in less than a
month. And despite this, she gets them replaced as if it's nothing. I'm pretty sure the boss's boss
is aware of her explosive behavior, but I guess she gets the work done. I guess she brings money to
the table. I step into her wide open floor office pushing my trolley. Cassandra's room is one of
the corner offices with the best view of the city. The design, definitely inspired by her, is gray
and black. Just like her soul. She doesn't get much trash but she always needs her office to
be cleaned. I figure it's more for the fingerprints on her windows and tables. You would swear she
had kids over for playtime. Tonight she is here late. She usually stays back late but I've never
seen her here on a Friday night. She's sitting on her desk facing the cityscape. I don't disturb
her, I just sweep. I should probably take out the trash first but the bin is close to her foot.
Whatever she's thinking, I'm not about to ruin her mood. I would prefer a short night so I can get
home and relax. The last thing I need is for Ms. Monroe to catch a fit and report me to my
supervisor. Tonight already seems like one of her moody days. I sweep everywhere except around
her desk. I'll do that after she leaves. I head outside to refill the bucket to clean the door
handles in the glass and when I return she's standing at the floor to ceiling window.
Finally. And this is why I can't fucking trust you Gerard. You never show up when you're supposed
to show up. It's been weeks. I haven't seen you in three weeks and now you're telling me this shit?
I try not to listen to the conversation but she's talking loud. It's almost as if she wants me to
hear. Sadly, I didn't walk with my headphones. I left them in my other pants pocket. I start
clearing her desk wiping everything and then reach for the trash can. You said you were going to leave
her Gerard. You told me she signed the papers months ago so why is she still a problem for you?
I empty the trash in the large garbage bag attached to my trolley. I don't care about your
fucking wife. I grabbed the broom. You know what? Fuck you. Fuck you and that pregnant bitch.
Cassandra sails her phone across the room and the back splits open. Wow. At least it's her
personal phone this time. I don't do anything and I don't say anything. I continue to sweep
around the desk. If she decides to leave the cell phone there then I'll clean it up after.
Cassandra darts across the room and exits slamming the door behind her. Wherever she's going I know
it's not home because her bag and everything is still here. I guess she'll be back. I try cleaning
everything as quickly as possible but I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to do with her phone. I
let out a breath the moment I see the fingerprints on the window. More work. Just when I thought my
night would be short now I got to clean the windows. Cassandra walks back in and lets out a grunt.
Why is my phone still on the floor? Do I have to tell you how to do your fucking job too?
My apologies. God sometimes I wonder if you men have a brain at all.
Maybe she's the one who doesn't have a brain because she shouldn't be fucking with a married guy.
And here I thought she had class. Every day I learned something new. I fetch the phone off
the floor and fling it in the garbage bag. Really? She says. Did you just throw out my phone? I still
need it you know. I'm sorry. I fetched the phone and its broken pieces from the bag and set them
on the table. So you're not going to sanitize it? What kind of cleaner are you? She scoffs.
My god it's like I have to tell you men what to do all the time. Us men? Whatever. I just want to
get the fuck out of here. This woman has been a pain in my side ever since I stepped foot in her
office. I have one job and that is to clean all the executive offices and leave. This one is making
me do things I do not want to do. She's saying things that I do not need to hear. Is there anything
else you need help with? What you're a butler now? No ma'am. She flicks her wrist as if I'm
bothering her. Carry on. I head back to the window and all I can hear is Miss Monroe mumbling and
grumbling to herself. A glance over my shoulder makes me see her trying to put her phone back
together. I could simply tell her that it's done for. But what do I know with my little brain?
When she finally admits defeat, she pitches it on the table and groans, squeezing and rubbing
her neck. What are you looking at? She asks. Are you okay? Why would you care? You're not a doctor.
Besides, you're too simple-minded to comprehend anything. Okay, I've had it with this condescending
woman. All I asked was if you were okay and you start belittling me. You should mind your damn
business. That's what we hired you to clean not to be a fucking therapist. I throw the cloth
into the bucket and pick it up. I guess you're right. Now will you excuse me? I have other places
to clean. When you leave, I'll get back to this one. Yeah, you do that, Mr. Grump. I finish cleaning
the CEO and the COO's office. And by the time I swing back to Ms. Monroe's office, she is still
there. What the fuck? Now she is lying face down on her desk with her elbows propped up and squeezing
the back of her neck. I glance at my watch. If she doesn't leave now, then I might be here all night.
Damn it. What is wrong with this woman? I knock on the glass door and step in. Her head is still
down and she's really squeezing the neck. Are you sure you're okay? She lifts her head. Dude,
what the hell is your problem? Cassandra's head jerks to the side and she yelps, clutching her
neck. I rush towards her. Leave me be. She fans me away. I'm just a bit stressed out. Let me see
if I can help. I'm a masseuse. She tilts her head and glances up at me unconvinced. I reach into
my pocket and hand her my business card. I'm a certified masseuse. I clean part time. When she
still doesn't budge, I add. I only do odd jobs so I can get a head start on my mortgage.
Ugh. Bore someone else with that shit. Just do what you have to do.
She pinches her neck again. Wait, are your hands clean?
Yes, but I can rewash them for you. Yes, please do. God knows what you have been touching over there.
And by over there, I believe she's talking about the CEO's office. Maybe she knows something I don't.
You can use my washroom. It's the door behind me. I point over my shoulder.
Wait, there's a washroom there. Cassandra eyes me. Well, that explains why the fucking trash never
gets taken out. You could have said something. How am I supposed to know that? That's not my job.
Didn't you have an orientation or something? Why do I have to do everything for myself around here?
I pinch the bridge between my eyes. I'm sorry, but how was I to know?
Ugh. My neck is hurting. Just go wash your fucking hands.
I return to find her resting her head on the desk again. Does your neck always bother you? I ask.
Not all the time, just... Cassandra inhales deeply as I press my fingers into her neck.
I'm going to start with some gentle movements to loosen up the muscles before diving into the deeper work.
If anything feels uncomfortable or if you need me to slow down, just let me know, okay?
She moans her answer. God, that feels so good. Take a few deep breaths for me.
Fuck. I don't know what it is, but this has never happened before. I've had a lot of clients
and not once had I ever gotten a heart on from their moaning. I need to stop. This is highly
unprofessional. I take a step away. All right, I believe this should help.
Hmm. Why did you stop? Because I need to get back to work.
Cassandra stands and faces me. It's a good thing her chair is high enough to hide my boner.
Just two more minutes, please. Wow, the dragon knows how to say please.
I'm sorry, but as one of my employers, you of all people should know that it's unprofessional
for me to conduct a private business at my place of work. She grunts. Fine. But is your neck better
now? Much better, but you could have healed me if you had continued. What? Do you want payment or
something? It's fine. This first one is on me. You have my card and my number. You can call if
you need any of my services. But you should also have your blood pressure checked. She rolls her eyes.
Whatever. Get back to doing whatever you were going to do and don't forget to take out the trash in
my washroom. Yes, ma'am. She reaches for her bag. I think I should head out now.
I salute her, but when she reaches the door, she pauses. And what's your name again?
You never ask me my name, Ms. Monroe. She narrows her eyes at me.
Are you truly going to do this to me? I smile. Indigo. Really? Your parents named you Indigo?
They must have not liked you at all. I chuckle. Okay. She sighs. Thanks for the, uh... She points at
her neck. You're welcome, Ms. Monroe. She closes the door, leaving me with my thoughts. Today,
I learned that Cassandra Monroe is not what people make her out to be. She has a soft spot, a tiny,
almost unnoticeable soft spot. It's there. I know it, but you just have to find it.
Hey, Raiders. So, I had intended on releasing the final part of Arranged Marriage,
but the story ending didn't quite go the way I wanted, which is also why I've released a totally
new topic to make up for the gap. Thank you for your patience, and I hope to have the final part
in time for our next episode. See ya. Bye.