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For a moment she wondered about calling someone to get them to come watch her desk while she was out, but decided against it. He excused her, it can be his problem to find someone to babysit him while she was out.
She didn’t even remember the drive home. Dressing in her pjs, she laid on her couch and snuggled down with some old movies. She’d never been happier to be home. That afternoon there was a knock on her door. For a moment she debated answering, but couldn’t let it go when they knocked again and rang the doorbell. When she opened the door, there was a man from some restaurant holding a plastic bag with containers inside.
“Tallah Redfield?”
“Yes,” she said. “I didn’t order this.”
“No ma’am,” he said smiling and handed it over. “It was ordered for you.” He handed her a card, then left.
Tallah took the stuff to the kitchen and set it down on her small round table. Opening the card, it read “I apologize for how I spoke to you. It’s my hope that this helps with a speedy recovery.”
It was signed by Mr. Gilmore, only he signed just his first name. Justin. She actually didn’t know that was his first name, but after so much paperwork, she knew his handwriting anywhere.
Inside the plastic bag, the containers were various kinds of soups. These were not some cheap take-outs, either. Soup was something that one could tell was quality just by stirring it up and smelling the steam. Even through her plugged nose she could smell the deliciousness contained within each. There was chicken noodle, naturally, and minestrone. Three of the others she actually didn’t recognize, but over the course of the next few days she had the pleasure of trying. They were all the best soups she’d ever had. She was also more confused than she’d ever been.
What the hell? He spends all of that time treating her like dirt, and she throws his coffee and suddenly he’s buying soup for her? Maybe he was just afraid of a lawsuit or something. She wanted to think that he should be worried about something like that after the way he’d been treating her, but truth be told the soup was totally working. It was such a sweet thing to do. If it was sincere, it was the most perfect gesture. Tallah groaned to herself as her emotions warred with themselves.
When she was finally feeling well enough to come in, she was anxious about what was going to happen. At this point, there was just no telling. Still, she dressed herself up as nicely as she always did, enjoyed a cup of coffee in the kitchen, and set out earlier than normal so that she could possibly catch up on anything that had gotten behind in her absence.
When she got there, to her surprise, his office door was already open. Tallah set her things down on her desk and walked over to check. When she peeked her head inside, she heard the clacking of his keyboard as he typed away. Well, she knew better than to disturb him before his coffee, so she went back to her desk. Before she sat down, her intercom beeped.
“Was that you I just saw?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” she said. Her heart began beating in her chest. What did he want?
“Would you come see me? If you’re not busy.”
He was being so nice! It made her even more uncomfortable than when he yelled. At least then he was predictable. She had no idea what was in store for her now. “Sure.”
Straightening out her outfit she walked into his office. Seeing her come in, he stood from his desk and walked around to the front of it. Out of morbid curiosity, she glanced over the carpet and saw there was no coffee stain. She wondered how long it took him to get that up. When she was near he leaned back against his desk.
“Feeling better?”
Tallah came to stand near him and folded her hands in front of her. “Yes,” she said simply.
“Did, uh, you get my soup?”
“Yes.”
He crossed his arms, looking almost as though he was uncomfortable. Again her thoughts went to his fear of a lawsuit. The way he was behaving, she was losing all appreciation for the gesture and started seeing it more as a bribe.
“And?” he asked.
“I ate it.”
Sighing sharply, he waved a hand. “You’re excused.”
“What do you want from me?” she asked.
The words were out of her mouth before she’d thought about the consequences. The second she realized what she was actually asking, she immediately regretted having said anything. She should’ve just walked away, damnit! But the question was out there, and she couldn’t risk losing whatever respect she’d earned in his eyes.
He turned to her, and she could see her question churning in his mind. When he didn’t answer right away, it angered her. Somehow, a heat rose inside, boiling to overflowing.
“What did I do to you to make you hate me so much?”
“Hate—?” he started, but she cut him off.
“Since day one you treated me like gum you’ve stepped on, some ragdoll you can just throw around to make yourself feel better.”
