“Wait. Wait . . .” I tried to break free, but the man marched me all the way to the door and pushed me out of the building without so much as a word.
My heart raced. It beat against my chest like a bird trying to break free of its cage. Humiliation flooded me. And then anger. I’d never been treated like this in my entire life, I’d never been more embarrassed and more, more . . . more . . .
The tears burst out of me like water bursting through a crack in a dam. This was the second time I’d found myself crying outside this building. This was a sign! I shouldn’t work here. And I clearly wasn’t welcome here either. I walked up to the small green-stemmed tree where I’d locked the bike. I was barely able to see through the salty, wet veil of tears that coated my face. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the key that the neighbor had given me for the bicycle chain and tried to slip it into the hole.
“Fuck it!” I cursed loudly when the thing wouldn’t fit. I wiped my tears and tried again. But still, it wasn’t working. I pulled my stupid prop glasses off, which were making me blinder than I needed to be, and raised the key to my eyes. It was the key for my apartment. Not the key for the bicycle chain. I must have swapped them by accident!
“I hate this day,” I yelled loudly and didn’t care who the hell was looking. I stood up and looked at the small tree. I knew these things were surprisingly bendable, a gale-force wind wouldn’t snap them. So, with one hand I began to lift the bike up while bending the stem with my other hand so that it could slip over the top. And it almost worked when . . .
“HEY!” A voice screamed at me and then, out of nowhere, the wetness came. A strong, long, cold rush of water made me fall backward onto the hard floor.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I finally saw where the water and voice were coming from. An angry, hosepipe-wielding gardener was moving in my direction. “I planted that last week. What the hell are you trying to do? Kill it?”
“I would never kill a plant,” I said quickly. But my words clearly fell on deaf ears.
“Get out of here now before I call the police and report you for property damage.”
“But my bike?” I struggled back up to my feet, dripping with water.
“NOW!” The man bellowed and pointed the hosepipe in my direction again.
I took that as my cue to leave. I turned and ran as fast as I could.
When I was a decent way away, I stopped and looked back at the intimidating silver building once more. This had to be, without a doubt, one of the worst mornings of my life, top five at least, and I’d had a few pretty damn shitty ones before. But this one took the cake and all the icing too! If the cake came with those decorative fondant flowers on top, it would take those things as well. Fuck it, this morning took the entire bakery!
I turned and started the long, wet, cold, painful, walk back home.
CHAPTEREIGHT
Ryan
He was nursing a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach as he drove to work that morning. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking aboutherall weekend.
He’d decided yesterday that he was going to force Doris to quit today. He estimated that she wouldn’t even last until lunch, but today he was having second thoughts. In fact, thoughts of her were all he was having.
Strange Doris with the bad hair, cracked glasses and terrible clothes who had hugged him and left her scent on him. He’d been able to smell her all Friday evening. It wasn’t the greatest smell, by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, it smelt more like cheap drugstore perfume or scented deodorant than anything else. It was only after his extra-long hot shower that he’d managed to wash her smell away.
“For fuck’s sake.” He shook his head and tapped a tune on his steering wheel in an attempt to dislodge her from his thoughts. He pulled into his parking lot just as he’d made another rather uncharacteristic decision. Instead of treating her like shit today and driving her off, he would simply tell her, very gently, that he’d found someone else who was more qualified for the position. He’d even give her a full week’s salary and send her on her way. He hated the idea of seeing her cry again, so perhaps a more gentle, direct approach would work better with her?
But when he got to his office, it was empty! He stared angrily at the empty desk, willing her to magically fill it, but she didn’t.So much for a gentle approach!He marched into his office and slammed the door, ringing straight down to reception.
“Has Miss Granger come in yet?” he asked.
“Yes, she did.” The response came back immediately.
“Well, where the hell is she? She’s five minutes late!”
“Uh . . . sir, Mr. Stark, you told me to throw her out of the building if she came back again.”
“I certainly did NOT!” he huffed down the phone.
“Uh, sorry, but you did . . . remember? After her interview on Friday?” Ayanda stuttered and sounded nervous, and suddenly he remembered saying it. But that was before he’d decided to stupidly hire her.
“Sorry. I did. But that was a mistake. I hired her,” he admitted.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry . . . I had no idea. She came and security threw her out and . . . I wish I’d known. I’m very sorry, Mr. Stark, I—”
“It’s fine,” he cut her off. He couldn’t bear her wordy apology a second longer, it was making his head throb. “Where is she now?”
