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Gabe stopped writing. He raised his head, glared at me and tossed his pen from between his fingertips with a disgusted flick. Through a face darkened with concern, he reiterated his command.
“Sit. Down.”
I nodded, and without uttering another syllable, I slid into one of the chairs across from his desk. Gabe remained silent for several seconds without so much as a blink of his eyes until at last, he spoke.
“What did I tell you, Fiona? About the team? Do you remember?”
I honestly had no clue what he was getting at. I shrugged and shook my head. “Um, that I needed to make sure I didn’t lose them and…”
“Christ!” he said as he waved me off. With a flourish, Gabe shoved his chair out from beneath him and stood. Startled by the swiftness, I flinched and recoiled into my seat. Whatever was on his mind had his full attention. Before I’d arrived he’d rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. As his chair banged into the wall behind him, Gabe pressed his palms on the top of his desk.
I broke eye contact with him for an instant just to get a look at the sinewy musculature of his exposed forearms. He fought the motion of his fingertips, which threatened to curl in anger and as he did, his tanned skin flexed and pulsed. Even in the midst of his rage, or because of it, I found myself fighting a familiar urge. I drew my eyes back up towards him and as subtly as I could, I pressed my thighs together, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
Gabe looked down at me.
“Do you know that I’ve been forced to deal with the consequences of your mismanagement? You’ve got a full blown mutiny on your hands Fiona.”
Flabbergasted, not to mention completely taken by surprise, I shook my head as I replied.
“Mutiny? What are you talking about? Everything is fine. We’re ahead of schedule.”
As I spoke, Gabe reached behind himself, rolled his chair back towards his desk and slid into it. His demeanor shifted from anger to focus.
“No. It isn’t, Fiona.”
He spent the next few minutes recapping a supposed meeting that occurred in his office prior to my arrival. Led by Amanda and Melissa, several other junior scientists claimed I’d been pushing them too hard to get the work done. I hadn’t heard a single word of complaint and now, this? Thinning my lips in disgust, I sat there as Gabe laid the collective complaints bare before me. Was this Amanda and Melissa’s grand plan to get me? Nothing else made sense to me as he wrapped up his summary with a stern warning.
“I’m not going to rehash this with you anymore, Fiona. You’ve got to find a way to get the work done without driving the team into exhaustion. Do I make myself clear?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
Gabe broke eye contact with me, picked up his pen and began to write once more. “All right then, well, I think the first order of business is for you to meet with the entire team and deal with it. Now, back to the lab and get to it. As of this moment, I’m done with this matter.”
The idea of doing it revolted me. Was it my fault that they couldn’t, or wouldn’t, work as hard as I did? As I sat there while Gabe berated me, it didn’t seem as if he’d been even-handed with his discipline. Why was he so unwilling to hear my side of this situation? Why would he naturally assume that I was the only problem here? As the seconds ticked by, I began to wonder if in fact he wasn’t using this, at least in some way, as punishment for what happened at dinner. After all, we never talked about it. He just sent me home. All of a sudden, the notion didn’t seem crazy in the slightest.
Apparently, I’d sat there for a moment too long. Gabe shifted his attention from his notes and looked up at me.
“Why are you still here?”
I straightened myself in my chair, tugging my hair behind my ears as I searched for the courage to ask him about my suspicions.
“Well?” he grumbled. “Time is wasting. Do you have something to say?”
I nodded and took a quick swallow as I replied.
“Um… well, I’m not sure how to begin.”
Gabe rocked back in his chair, dropping his pen on the desk as he did. “For fuck’s sake. What is it, Fiona? Get to it. I’m busy.”
“No, no,” I replied. I sensed the courage drain from me as his frustration resurfaced. “It’s nothing. I’ll handle it. I’ll do as you asked and…”
“No,” he said, cutting me off mid-sentence. “Tell me what’s on your mind. But make it quick.”
I stood from my chair. As I did, I studied him while I tried to figure out the simplest way to ask the question. Whether I was right or wrong, I had to know the truth. Unfortunately, there just wasn’t an easy way to do it. And so, after a deep inhale, I blurted it out.
