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I know the timing is horrible—I should have done this weeks ago, but to be honest, I wasn’t planning on using it at all. I intended to go see my family on Friday after work and be back by Monday morning. But I know it’s a slow season and my colleagues won’t have any issues. And she of all people can’t complain; she does it all the time.
“I need to be there for my family, Mrs. Hannigan.”
“It’s clear that you don’t care enough, Miss Martin.” She’s shed the mocking tone now and tries to sound polite and serious, per the standard HR guidelines. “This is not the level of dedication we accept from our employees.”
“You are absolutely right.” I pull out my phone and send the two emails I’d written on Friday. Maybe I should have sent them together with that report. “I’ve just sent you my formal request for vacation leave which, as you know, you are contractually obligated to accept, as well as my two-week notice.”
The blood slowly drains from her face. As much as she’d hate to admit it, I’ve been a great asset to her for years.
I rise to my feet since I’m not really interested in her reaction. I need to shed everything that’s kept me down all these years.
“What madness is this, Carol?” she shrieks as I’m about to open the door.
“That’s exactly what I’ve been wondering, Mrs. Hannigan,” I respond, the last bit of guilt I felt over this evaporating.
I quicken my step until I’m in my own office. Once the door clicks shut behind me, I feel better, safe, like one more weight has been lifted off my chest. This place has been my haven all these years. It’s much simpler than Silvia’s, with only my glass-top desk, three chairs, and a wall of bookcases filled with file folders, but it’s all I needed. And the view of course, probably the only thing I’m going to miss.
Chapter Eight
Brian
It’sthethirdtimeI have gone through the reports today. The pile of folders wiggles a bit as I throw the last one with force on the wooden surface.
The numbers just don’t make sense.
Andrew knocks on the door and barges inside without waiting for my response. He’s three years older than me and the exact opposite when it comes to appearance—tall but slim, with short, blond hair and gray eyes.
He comes to my desk and places an equally big pile of folders, blue this time, next to the other batch, a silver tablet resting on top of it. So much for keeping our investigation a secret.
“I told you to bring me two or three at a time when you come in here,” I remind him. His office is right next to mine so only Abby, my administrative assistant, and the occasional employee from another department might be nearby but that’s still too many people.
Other than the CFO, hardly anyone knew of the discrepancies we found in our system, but since Andrew and I started intensely examining the situation, we’ve made sure to play it up as a simple glitch in the system. If it turns out to be nothing, there’s no reason to alert the board members. And if it’s not, it would only give the culprit a heads-up. But at least he has color-coded the folders based on time periods, making the review just a tiny bit easier.
Andrew shrugs and grabs his tablet. “No one’s outside and I’ve printed them all myself,” he says proudly. “Any luck?”
His metallic pen taps furiously at the tablet screen until it casts on the TV behind him, revealing my schedule for today—also color coded.
“What does it look like?” I motion to the piles he himself has placed on my desk.
Andrew stares at me for a moment with a raised eyebrow. “I meant the party yesterday. This—obviously, it’s not done.” He waves at the folders, dismissingly. “But judging by your cranky mood, the meeting didn’t go that well.”
“I’m not so sure,” I confess. There was anger and accusations when Carol saw me, and softness and lust in the way she approached me afterward. But the nonchalant way she left me to go back to the party was... I don’t know how to explain it. “I guess it went better and worse than I expected.”
Andrew moves two meetings from Thursday to next week before sitting down again. “Not sure what that means.”
I press my elbows on the desk and bury my face in my hands. I’ve never felt so uncertain in my life. “She was very angry but at the same time—I don’t know. Maybe I’m just imagining things.”
Carol, the issues at work, and Jane’s latest tantrums—they are all too much to handle at once.
“Or maybe if you get more specific, I’ll be able to provide a fresh perspective on this whole situation.” Andrew’s mocking smile is strangely reassuring.
He is one of the few people who knows almost everything about me and has supported me since day one at the company, both with work and with my troubled marriage with Jane. And now with Daniel.
Andrew uses a finger to lift his glasses higher and waits for me to start.
“She’s still very angry,” I begin and give him a detailed account of what happened the previous night, concluding with the smile she gave me before I left the party. It was relaxed and almost sly, hinting at satisfaction—the complete opposite of what I was feeling.
“OK, let’s take it from the very beginning. Despite the way you treated her, she was—almost—cordial with you from the very beginning. That shows maturity. The erratic behavior that followed shows interest. There’s still something there. And it’s clear that you are more than interested, so why are you sitting here talking about it instead of pursuing her?”
