"Good morning, Steve." She smiled at him, swiping her card to unlock the door. He pulled the door open for her as she juggled her purse, small lunch cooler, and cup of Starbucks coffee. "Thank you."
"I hear you're this month's target of the month," he said, sympathy on his face.
Harper grimaced. "Target of the year, I think. I got hired for the job Tiffany expected."
"Oh, that's bad," Steve agreed. He patted her shoulder. "You be careful now. I was in high school with that precious trio, and they haven't gotten any better. Good luck to you."
"Yeah, thanks," she sighed, passing into the bank. "Have a good day, Steve."
She stowed her lunch in her locker, then went to her office. After unlocking her desk, she retrieved her pens - now kept secure in a locked file cabinet - and checked weekend messages. Halfway through her coffee, she remembered to lock her purse in the bottom drawer, noting its familiar weight, not heavier than usual at all. Caffeine was an amazing thing, she thought, though eyeing her large Starbucks cup, maybe she needed to cut back. Having delusions from a delayed morning fix couldn't be healthy.
She'd made significant progress on her workload when her coworkers started trickling in. A few stopped by with friendly morning greetings, brightening her mood. The pleasant atmosphere shattered when a trio of unwelcoming faces appeared, blocking her doorway. Harper kept her head down, refusing to acknowledge the women who loomed there with obvious animosity. If they wanted to play the quiet treatment game, she wouldn't complain. She'd learned the hard way that their verbal jabs could sting, so their newfound vow of silence suited her perfectly.
Finally they drifted off, but not before Tiffany, sneered at her. "Don't get too comfortable in this office. You're not going to last much longer here."
Not fifteen minutes later, just before the bank doors opened for business, there was an unholy shriek from one of the cubicles.
"Ow!!!"
Startled, Harper turned to look, and heads popped over the tops of the cubicles as Tiffany shot into view. "Someone pulled my hair!"
Lydia, the bank manager, approached from the back of the cavernous room. "Tiffany, no one was near you."
"There was!" Tiffany insisted, glaring around angrily. She crossed to the cubicle wall separating her from the other side, and peered over. Her face set in angry lines. "Someone must have been here, and run out."
The employees exchanged uneasy looks before sitting back down. Harper understood their reluctance to point out the obvious, that the adjoining cubicle had been empty and everyone else was already at their desks. She stifled a laugh as she returned to her work. Though she couldn't explain how Tiffany's hair got pulled, she wished she knew who'd done it - they deserved a free lunch.
The next few hours passed uneventfully. Harper was just getting ready for lunch when an ominous shadow blocked her doorway.
"You did this," Janis, the lesser of the three mean girls, accused, holding her hand out.
Harper blinked, looking closely at what appeared to be a pair of pantyhose dangling from Janis' fingers, showing cuts and slices all along both legs.
"I didn't do that," she denied. "Why would you think it was me?"
"You did it while I was out to lunch. I put this extra pair in my desk drawer this morning, and now look at them!"
"Whoa!" Harper glared right back. "I didn't touch your hose, and I haven't been near your desk. I haven't left this office since I went on break at ten, and I went straight to the staff lounge and back."
In fact, she'd taken to having her lunch late. Since she had some freedom in arranging her schedule, she was timing her lunches for after the three mean girls, Vanessa, Tiffany, and Janis, had returned from lunch, so she didn't have to have their aggressive stares, snide comments, and outright hostility aimed at her.
Steve, who was currently roaming the bank while Jake had the parking lot and back entrance, came over to see what was up.
"Harper," Janis spat her name out like a curse, "got into my desk and cut up my spare pantyhose while I was at lunch."
"It wasn't me," sighed Harper, wanting to facepalm. What was wrong with these woman? She pointed across the room. "There's a security cam. Go check it. It'll show me not leaving my office for the past three hours."
Janis stared at her angrily. Harper knew she must be seething, but she could hardly accuse Harper of having done it on break, because Janis and Vanessa had been in the break room the whole time she'd been there.
"Steve," Lydia said from behind the burly guard. "Go check the security camera feed for the last few hours, please."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Janis, please get back to work. I'll take things from here."
Harper felt relief as her doorway finally cleared, and she swiveled to face away from it, fighting to control her breathing. This situation was unbearable! She adored her position, cherished assisting clients with organizing their money matters, setting them up for whatever version of achievement they dreamed of. But these theatrics... a tremor ran through her as she gripped her upper arms. She despised the hostility and constant tension. And it had barely been a week! Since she couldn't figure out how to end it, she imagined this nightmare stretching endlessly ahead. But there was no chance she'dsubmit to those three tormentors, and let them drive her away from her position.
She watched, however, curious, as Steve emerged from the back, where the security room was located. After a brief colloquy with Lydia, both of them headed back to the security room. Okay, now she was even more curious. No matter who Steve might have seen on the camera, why would Lydia have to go watch it herself? Wouldn't Steve's report be enough?
