The wrong idea

                My office door slammed. I heard something fall in the office next door. Bill, my boss and friend, stood on the other side of my desk. His dark eyes and ruffled suit told me as clearly as his obvious attitude that I was either in serious trouble or he was. He stared over my computer so hard I turned my eyes toward the “Achievement” poster on the wall.

         “Where were you last night?” he asked.

         “Home. Where were you?” 

         “Don’t you smart off to me. Did that slut come see you?”

         “What’s going on, Bill?”

         “Did she?”

         “Where were you last night? We looked for you all night.”

         “I want to know why you were with my girl last night. Don’t lie to me or I’ll kick your face in. You dirty little mother …….”

         “Bill, I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but somehow you’ve gotten the wrong idea.”

         “On my birthday. I can’t believe you did that on my birthday.”

         “Bill, slow down a little. Alana said she’d left you a note to come to my house when you got home from work. Didn’t you find it?”

         “No. The note said she was going to your house and her kitchen stuff was gone. She moved out. She moved in with you. On my birthday.”

         “You’re a dumbass. Go see Alana and take the day off.”

         “You take my girl and expect me to let you keep your job? You’re the dumbass.”

         “Bill, haven’t you been home this morning? Or answered your phone? Alana has been calling you. She wanted to tell you.”

         “I’m not taking her call. Won’t give her the satisfaction.”

         “You need to talk to her. You need to know about the party, your surprise party – you didn’t show up for.”