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She groans. “What if I lose my promotion? What if they don’t believe me? You know he’s going to say it never happened.”
“You’ve said yourself your boss is awesome. Tell her. A promotion isn’t worth that.”
“I know. I just hate this entire thing.”
“Are you doing okay? He didn’t try anything else?”
“No. I grabbed my stuff and ran out of the room once I pushed him away. I’m okay, I guess. He just had this lethal look in his eyes, and I was shaken up. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
So, I hold her until she’s hungry. She might not want to talk about it, but she’s still thinking about it. All her anxiety tells are present and in action. At least she seems willing to talk to her boss. I don’t want her working with him any more than she wants to. When she does take a shower, my phone rings with a call from my father.
“Hey, Dad. How’s it going?”
“Good. How are things there?”
“It’s been a rough day here.” I go on to explain what happened with Brittany. “She’s not looking forward to having to tell her boss, but I think she’s going to.”
“Make sure she does, son. No one should have to put up with something like that and she shouldn’t be forced to work with him.”
“That’s basically what I told her.”
“Good.” He tells me more about what’s happening back home and we hang up around the time Brittany comes back from her shower.
“How’s Clark and Amy?” she asks.
“I didn’t hear any complaints or bad news, so they’re doing well.”
“That’s good.” She sits in my lap and I recline us back. “Let’s have lunch tomorrow because I might need you if things go sideways at work.”
“Done. We can go to your favorite fried pickles restaurant.”
“That’s perfect. Thank you.”
“Welcome. I’m sure things will be fine, so try not to worry about it too much, okay?”
She sighs. “I’m trying.”
It’s all I can ask of her, so it’ll have to be good enough. She has trouble sleeping, tossing and turning, and she wakes up only to rush to the bathroom to vomit. I make her take a panic pill to help calm her down. I wish I could go to work with her, but that’s not an option. She’s still a wreck when she leaves for work.
From the time I get to work and until it’s time to meet Brittany for lunch, the clock slows down and drags. I’m standing outside the restaurant, waiting for Brittany who is already five minutes late, when I see her. She’s smiling. Thank god, she’s smiling. My own breath of relief leaves me and I feel the built-up tension leave my body. Maybe I was as stressed out and nervous as she was.
“Good news?” I ask when she reaches me.
“Very good news. Let’s go inside and order and then I’ll tell you all about it.”
We’ve been here so often that the waitress recognizes us. She double checks that we’re not trying anything new today and then puts in our order.
“What happened?” I ask as the waitress walks away.
“Well, I almost chickened out, but my boss called me into her office. She thought I seemed on edge, so she was checking to see that everything was okay. I spilled my guts. Turns out, that’s not the first complaint about him, so he was fired. I’ll be working with someone else for the remainder of the project, so there’s still a chance I can move up the ladder.”
“Told you it would all be fine.”
She rolls her eyes. “That why you were grabbing your neck until you saw me?”
“I still don’t like that I don’t realize I’m doing that until you have to point it out to me.”
“It’s payback for all the times you’d glance at me squeezing my wrist,” she laughs. Her phone buzzes on the table and she sighs. “Looks like it’s time for another lunch with Rebecca.”
