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“Yes, yes it is true, Jason Lucas must get it from someone. He’s too dishy not to be doing it,” smirked Amanda.
My ears pricked up at Jason’s name and I looked across as they hunched over there lunch boxes, knees practically touching each other in their cosy circle of chairs.
“Oh come on who with though,” exclaimed Penny. “Well, not work colleagues, unless it’s with interns who visit his office.” She looked across at me and guffawed.
I turned scarlet. I could not help it as the thought of Jason naked flashed through my mind. Little did they know when it came to the truth.
“She blushed, look!” said Amanda.
Oh God, they had noticed. Why couldn’t I control myself better!
“What are you hiding, Gemma?”
They were all looking at me now.
“Nothing! All I did was show him my work, my asset stuff. I’ve told you before.”
“Oh yeah, your work. Your assets!” said Amanda sarcastically as she nodded with a big grin. “Appreciating your assets was he? That’s it, Mr Lucas fucks his interns! I wonder if he lines them up outside his office! Probably with Gemma at the front of the queue.”
They shrieked with laughter making me blush deeper.
I was sure they were only joking. I ducked my head back down and busied myself with my computer, trying desperately to ignore them. The whole time they continued to concoct scenarios with Jason and me, or other interns whom they knew. I did not know how to intervene without digging a bigger hole for myself. I was good at hole digging when flustered. Andy, my manager stuck his head out of his office and called for Penny. Lunch had ended thank goodness.
Later that day, I was busy by the photocopier and a couple came by, their voices were hushed, heads together.
“The interns that’s what I’ve hear. Yes, it’s all round the sixth floor.”
I went pale. How did this silly gossip get up there? I thought of quiet Libby, dangerous and probably suffering from a serious lack of judgement or maybe motor-mouth Penny was the more likely candidate. By Wednesday, I was receiving funny looks off people, especially from those on my floor who knew my name. The situation was starting to become out of hand. Andy came out of his office at half past two and called us over for “a chat”.
“This has come down from on high,” he said hands on hips, sweeping the room with his eyes. “Email and phone calls are not for personal use and especially not for spreading rumours. We’re here to work, people. Get on with it, unless you want to be out of a job.”
I realise he had had his ears chewed off, I could tell. We shuffled back to our desks and I tried not to look anybody in the eye.
All evening I was plagued with anxieties. On high – how high? Jason high or just department heads? What would he do if he found out I was mentioned in all this. By bedtime, I was relieved that my phone and personal email on my old home computer had remained quiet. He rarely contacted me at home. I was overreacting I told myself. I must try to sleep my worries away.
Ten o’clock in the morning a text beeped at me. I glanced away from my paperwork and saw the message was from Jason. My heart sunk as I read it.
: You’re working late this evening. Wait for a call.
No pleasantries or sign off. My hand trembled. Did I reply? Ask him what was wrong? Deep down I knew I should keep quiet and not bother him as it was going to make things worse for me. The day dragged by, I barely touched lunch. At least everyone was knuckling down to work and the chitchat was at a minimum.
By five o’clock, I was hungry and I nibbled on my sandwiches. I knew he often worked to seven or eight in the evening. Gradually everyone drifted off, I told them I had to finish my work off and I was glad that they did not query my late night. At seven o’clock, a security guard stuck his head round the door and went to switch the lights off. He started when he saw me.
“Sorry, Miss.”
“That’s OK. Late night” I pouted in a friendly way.
“Sure, happens a lot round here,” he said sympathetically
“Won’t the cleaners be here soon?” I asked.
“Oh no, they do an early morning shift. I’ll leave you to it,” He waved at hand and was gone.
Fifteen minutes later my phone rang, tentatively I picked it up.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Miss Marshall,” Carla said. She sounded flustered and in a hurry. “Can you come up to see Mr Lucas now please?” The phone was hung up before I could reply.
