AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Tad: 8:02PM: Um... no. That is unacceptable.
Hannah: 8:03PM: You don't understand, Tad.
Tad: 8:04PM: Make me understand.
Hannah: 8:04PM: I can't. It's complicated.
Tad: 8:06PM: Nothing is complicated. Do you still want this job?
Hannah: 8:06PM: Yeah...
Tad: 8:07: Then its not complicated. Don't quit. Change your mindset. Take a cold shower. Have a cup of tea. Eat a whole bag of cookies. Go to bed early. Whatever it takes to get you out of this funk. You'll only regret quitting.
Hannah: 8:10PM: I'll see you tomorrow, Tad. Thanks for the pep talk.
Though she wasn't feeling any more peppy than before, at least she wasn't seriously considering putting her letter of resignation, effective immediately, on EM's desk for him to find first thing in the morning.
She wasn't sure how she was going to get through a day working in close quarters next to him, but she was going to do it. She had been warned from the beginning to stay away from him. She would just have to try a little harder, be more diligent and in control.
Hannah sighed, rose from her desk and took a stack of papers she needed to file away before she left for the night.
She came back ten minutes later to find EM's office light off, indicating he had finally left for the evening. She let out a sigh of relief, opening her office door and going to grab her purse and car keys. But then she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Unsure what was off at first, she looked around her office quickly. Then there it was. The surface of her desk. Everything had been moved off to both sides so the entire center of it was free of clutter. And something was carved in the beautiful wood.
I saw what happened.
Hannah felt her stomach drop. A sudden cold had the hair on her arms standing on end. The air in her office felt thick and hard to breathe. This was like something out of a horror movie. Who could have seen? Hannah looked down at the crude carved words with dread. Everyone had been long gone. Or so she had thought. There hadn't been any activity outside of their offices for hours. But someone had seen. Someone had watched her and Elliott writhing around on the couch like a couple of horny teenagers. Someone she worked with on a daily basis had seen her grinding against their boss.
Oh, God.
Hannah felt her head start to pound with a terrific migraine.
Who would carve something into her desk? Even leaving a note seemed juvenile and tactless. But to actually deface work property was a whole other level of extreme. Who did things like that? And she had only been gone a few minutes. Someone must have been waiting for her to leave, rushed in, moved stuff, carved their message and gotten off of the floor in under ten minutes.
Hannah found her scissors on the floor next to her desk, one of the blades was covered in wood shavings. She cleaned them off quickly, as if them being implicated felt wrong.
What was she going to do? Part of her felt like she should tell someone. But who could she tell? Tad? Then she would have to explain, in painful detail, exactly what this person had seen. And then she would be open to his censure. Tell Elliott? She knew she probably should. It was just as much about him as it was about her. But what could she say?
Um. Hey. Someone saw us tonight and carved a message into my desk. Just thought you should know.
That just wasn't even an option. He would be furious. He would come barreling back into work to see for himself and then they would be alone together in her office. Again. And she would be feeling vulnerable and stressed. Again.
What good could it even possibly do? What would he do? Question all the employees? Like that wouldn't cause a stir and rumors to circulate like wildfire. Were there cameras? The thought had never even entered her mind before, but now that it had, it planted itself deep. Oh, geez...werethere cameras? Could someone actually be watching her every move in and out of EM Corporation every day? Could someone have actually watched her making out with EM?
Hannah felt dizzy with stress. All she could think about was finding some way to cover this accusatory message up. She searched around the office supply closet until she found one of those huge desk calendars, the ones that take up three-fourths of the surface of any given desk. She placed it carefully and put a few items around it on the edges so it wouldn't accidentally budge. Then she sat down, a picture of paranoia, to fill in some dates on said calendar. It would look weird if, all of a sudden, she had decided to put an empty calendar on her desk. She scheduled in EM's business trips, his meetings, when she was supposed to make his doctor's appointments, or get his car inspected.
By the time she was done, nearly every day had multiple events, important ones written in bold red permanent marker and everything else in black. It would actually prove to be a rather useful thing to have.
Hannah exited the building, feeling uneasy and constantly looking over her shoulder. As if she expected to see the author of the note hiding behind desks or office plants. The only people she passed were the cleaning personnel who waved and told her to have a great night.
Hannah called her mother on the drive home as she had promised. She knew she sounded even more unconvincing as she had when answering during her make out session. And, for once, her mother was having nothing of it. She got lectured about not staying at a job that was making you miserable. About how life was too short and work was only supposed to be a small aspect of it. About how her friends and family almost never heard from her anymore and, even when they did, she sounded tired and defeated.
Hannah felt tears welling up and forced them away. She could absolutely see where her mother was coming from. But she honestly just couldn't take any more stress on top of everything in her life that she couldn't confess to anyone. She felt utterly alone. And on edge. And she wasn't sure how long she could go on feeling that way.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It felt almost wrong that nothing was amiss the next day. She got into work at her normal time and no one glanced at her with suspicion or accusation in her eyes. No one even commented on the fact that she was carrying with her a brand new coffee machine. She had gotten to the store just as they opened and ran in and grabbed one before work. If she didn't constantly have to fill his coffee cup, she would cut down on actual face to face interaction by at least two-thirds. And she had made sure she got the kind of pot that brewed into a carafe so it would stay hot without getting burnt for hours. She could sneak in to brew fresh pots whenever he left the office. It was a good plan, if perhaps a bit childish of her.
