The Big Dream by Rebecca Rosenblum

be.
    â€œHello, Grigori. I think you know why I wanted to speak to you alone.”
    Her words sound like a porno, but when he takes a step towards her, she goes back to the table and reads from her file folder.
    â€œYou’ve been on probation since our feedback meeting on March 23. I’m sorry to say that since then there was an incident that forces me to terminate your contract.”
    She is reading aloud. Someone has put her to this, clearly – it is an assignment she hates. She hates the department bosses and
Dream Inc. and everything that forces them to be apart. Her hand grip the paper in front of her chest. “I have to ask you to leave the building now.” The page rattles but she keeps it between them. Her eyes seem teary.
    â€œIs ok, Suyin.” He is so tense that he makes an old mistake – everyone knows “It is.” “Don’t worry.” He takes a step forward. He wants to reach out and take the paper, tell her don’t worry, he’s the sort of guy who has gotten her an invitation to a big party and bought her a present. She will be so grateful. On Sunday after the party and all the fucking in the pink lace thong, he will take her to complimentary yoga at the mall, and stand quietly in a corner watching her twist and bend. Then go home and fuck again. On Monday they will come to work holding hands above the parking brake in Suyin’s car, and she will explain to the bosses that they are fuckers, and give him his headset back.
    â€œOf course.” She lets her hand fall. “I’m sure you’ll find another job soon.”
    His fingertips are almost touching her grey-sweatered arm when he registers what she has said. “No. Is better I stay here. You’ll help.” He smiles encouragingly.
    â€œNo . . . the decision is . . . is firm. That feedback was your final warning. I’m afraid nothing else . . .” How could she let the bosses fuck her, fuck them around like this?”
    â€œDo not do this, Suyin. You know I love you.”
    He is close to her now, can feel her breath against his chest, or thinks he can. She takes a step to the side.
    â€œWhat did you say?”
    Something pounds hard in his belly, down low near his dick but not sexy.
    â€œThere’s this party I will take you to, my friend Tomas, he’s a fun guy, you’ll see. And his girlfriend, Vicki. I have told them all about you.”
    â€œAll about me what? Whatever would you tell them about me?”

    He is confused, tired, can’t remember if whatever is the same as what. He has been so good to her, so sweet and polite, not like with those Scarborough whores. Yet she is trying to get rid of him. He could make her so happy, buy her presents, take her places.
    â€œI asked . . . I wanted them to help buy you a present. I wanted to pick the right thing.” This is true, more or less.
    â€œGrig . . . it wouldn’t be . . . appropriate for me to accept a gift from you.”
    He wants to tell her it’s appropriate, that he loves her and she cannot betray his beautiful love, but it’s a thong and a tight-ass like her would never understand the long day downtown and stupid nosy Vicki and all the complimentary yoga he has in mind. It’s hard for him to get his thoughts organized to tell her in English, but he will. He closes his eyes to think but then he hears the snick of the doorknob turning and he opens his eyes and slams the door shut with his palm.
    â€œGrig! I have to – ”
    â€œI love you, Suyin, you don’t fucking – ” This is not what he meant to be saying, and she is flushed and water is tricking down her face and she goes for the door again and if she leaves she’ll be out of his life and he won’t see her pretty, tight-ass little face and he knocks the door shut again.
    â€œGrig, what are you doing ?”
    She’s crying, crying!
    â€œI’m sorry, Suyin, don’t cry. I love