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“Not sure, what’s up?”
“It’s my birthday, and I wanted to invite you. It’s a party and then two Wednesday’s after that is my baby shower.” Two thoughts struck a chord with me.
One: we barely knew each other so why would she invite me?
Two: I appreciated being included so let’s strike out the first thought I had.
I hesitated before I replied. “I’d love—”
“Mara, my office now!” Mr. Xander’s abrupt entrance interrupted me.
I don’t know why, but I at least expected him to acknowledge my presence seeing as I was in the middle of speaking to his sister.
I retreated to my office and began sorting through the files on my desk, determined to finish my internship as soon as possible. Sometimes, I loathed my heart for having a mind of its own.
Why was I constantly romanticizing the conversation as if it was anything more than two drunk people talking late at night?
Mara exited his office with neutral expressions and walked towards me.
“You’re coming to my party and baby shower, right?”
I see both siblings have an art for deflecting. “Yeah, I will be.”
“Come to my office, please,” Mr. Xander said over the intercom, summoning me.
Within seconds, I’m sure he heard the loud tapping of my heels on the ceramic tile as I made my way to his office.
“Good morning, sir,” I greeted, avoiding eye contact. I couldn’t bear to look at his face right now.
“You know my face is up here,” he said, chuckling, “close the door and sit.”
“I’m fine standing, what did you need?” I responded.
He unbuttoned his jacket and cleared his throat. “Sit, please.”
My body tensed at his words, and I reluctantly sat before him, holding a folder in my hands.
“Sorry about that,” I said nervously, “how can I help you?”
“My schedule for today,” he responded. “What’s on it?”
“Before I get to that, I just wanted to apologize for Friday. I was drunk; we both were, and it shouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have been that close to you. Even if we weren’t in the work space, I should’ve still respected the fact that you’re my boss.” I wasn’t going to say that but I just felt like I had to. It felt like the right thing to do.
“Azzaria,” he said as he gripped the edges of the desk, calling me by my first name for the second time. It was the first time I had noticed his strong Latin accent.
“It was a mistake, on both our parts,” he said, “let’s keep things professional.”
Oh.
“You have one email to send, and that’s it for the day,” I said. “There’s something scheduled as “PT” as well but I was advised that meant you had business out of the office.”
He looked at me with confusion. “Your schedule. You asked me what was on it.”
“Oh, right, right,” he said and took a seat in his chair. “Thank you.”
“I’m going to get going,” I said and cleared my throat.
“Going where?”
