The Reptilian Plan

4

Chris could admit that ever so often; very, very, occasionally, once in a blue moon even, that he felt inferior to his coworkers. As the only one without a degree, he sometimes felt his colleagues looked down on him. He wanted to rub it in their faces about how well he'd done studying with other freemasons in Egypt, but those who worked around him wouldn't appreciate these qualifications.

Monday 7th October 2019 was one of those days where Chris felt inferior.

It made sense that Helen would pick that day of all days to look at him with such disdain - the vibrational frequencies present on the seventh of a month were likely interfering with her subconscious worship of Chris. Still, it upset him to have her look at him this way - like he was beneath her. Stern didn't suit Helen. It highlighted her wrinkles, and Chris felt it was a poor choice of day for her to come into the lab early and skip her "beauty sleep."

"Good morning," he said to her, as she continued her unimpressed look.

"Maybe it is for you Chris but not for me. No, not for me at all. You see, last night my best friend ended up crying at the foot of my bed for three hours. She's a pretty girl, totally broken hearted. Oh, and some asshole took advantage of the fact she was drunk and vulnerable. Sound familiar to you at all?"

This wasn't good. Irene had not told Helen all about what happened at Spoons, but she seemed to have spoken of it with regret. Why was she regretting it? Chris was not some pathetic rebound, he was the man women rebounded from.

"Helen," play things right Chris, "I was incredibly drunk yesterday. What happened would never have happened if I had been in my right mind. I promise. It's just, well, Irene initiated it and I've just had a crush on her for so long, and well, I guess in that moment I thought it was genuine feeling from her."

He wasn't sure what else Helen would have wanted him to say. Playing the victim, the innocent boy who'd been swept away by a sincere crush, seemed the obvious way to placate her. And it's not like it wasn't at least partly true. Chris had been drunk and out of his mind the day before. Otherwise he would've dealt with Irene in a much more private manner, and she would be disposed of instead of tattling to her friends.

"I thought you were nice Chris." Helen's voice broke as she finished her sentence. Chris had never thought dull, uninteresting Helen would ever look disappointed in him, yet here she was. Chris was protecting her. It wasn't his fault she was an ungrateful bitch who couldn't appreciate this.

"Look Helen. I feel awful, and I'm worried I've ruined my friendship with Irene by getting so caught up in the moment, but please don't tell anyone about this. For Irene's sake, if not my own. Office gossip is not something I imagine she'll want to deal with right now."

"Chris. Don't pretend to want what's best for her. Stay away from her."

Helen must be a lesbian, Chris thought as she stormed off. He was surprised that despite all his savvy he had not realised that Irene had manipulated Helen in such a way, yet it must have occurred. It was the only explanation for Helen's total overreaction.

This was an annoying development though. He didn't want to be romantically linked to Irene. After she was removed from planet earth, he would likely be a suspect. He didn't want to have to deal with those sorts of questions again.

The boyfriend was always a suspect.

Although, Chris wasn't the boyfriend. No, Chris was some drunken rebound. Max was still the boyfriend. A jealous, ex-boyfriend who consumed by rage that Irene had found a lover so fast would be an easy target for any prosecution.

This was perfect.

By lunch Chris was considering texting Irene. It could be beneficial to have an electronic trail between them. A light-hearted one. Friendly. One that displayed two colleagues who could have a laugh, and copulate, but no passion. Displays of passion would be a trap.

Unlike you to not be in! Hope you're feeling okay today and not too hungover. :)

There. A perfect, light-hearted text. No, not a perfect light-hearted text, the perfect light hearted text. An exclamation mark to seem excited - but not multiple, he didn't want to seem like a psycho - and then a caring smiley face at the end.

My head hurts like helllll. Heard Helen gave you an earful this morning - ignore her. I promise I said nothing bad about you, she's just had some bad experiences in the past so has gotten quite defensive of her pals. Don't hold it against her - she's had a rough enough time. Give her till the end of the day and you'll be getting an apology.

Although Chris was pleased with the speed of Irene's response - hello, the slutty little lizard was desperate for him - he didn't like the implication that there was potentially something bad that he could have done to her. At least it did get all cleared up in the message that he had done no wrong and anyone who would think to berate him owed him an apology. He wasn't sure if he would forgive Helen when she came grovelling. He didn't appreciate the character assassination she had tried to commit to him.

The two-text exchange was more than enough for Chris. Any more might seem like to outsiders he was interested in Irene and that wouldn't do. To do what needed to be done he had to keep Irene convinced he genuinely cared and wanted to be with her, but everyone else needed to see indifference. No excitement, no passion. Just colleagues who could also have sex but never want to harm each other and exterminate the other because they were just casual pals, thank you very much.

It would be a difficult balance to achieve, but if anyone could do it Chris was sure that it would be him.

Chris smiled, proud of his Wetherspoons misstep ending up yet another victory. His eyes danced around the office when they caught onto the photo of Max, not yet removed from Irene's desk. The Denver local delighted to be in the Caucasus Mountains; dark eyes shining and a stretched smile. Words Irene had said to the day before echoed in his mind.

"I wasn't what he thought I was."