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I sat across from my boss in his humongous office while he looked over a report, the anticipation of his feedback bubbling through me. His large hands flipped through the papers, looking over my data.
Today he wore a Rolex with a President bracelet, an ice blue dial, and a diamond-set bezel. From further away, the watch looked deceptively simple yet elegant. Only up close, and if you knew what to look for, could you see that the watch partially hiding his scar was a luxury item. A quick online search told me it was worth at least fifty thousand dollars. That was more than my yearly salary.
One day, I would have an executive office and expensive jewels, although the material side of things wasn’t my priority. What I really wanted was to never have to worry about how I was going to pay for my next meal. I wanted the security of knowing I could provide for my needs myself and that no one could ever take what I had earned away from me.
Mr. Cox rolled up his sleeves, revealing muscular forearms that made butterflies flit about my belly.
Luckily, Mrs. Barnes walked in, breaking me out of my forearm stupor. I cleared my throat and averted my eyes from my boss’s body. I had to stop ogling him like he was a sexy-ass, drool-inducing man. I reminded myself that he was my boss.
Mrs. Barnes placed a cup on his desk. “Here’s your coffee.”
Coffee? Wasn’t it hot chocolate? I could smell it from here.
His eyes, creased with worry, scanned his assistant. “Thank you, Mrs. Barnes.”
“You’re welcome. Did you two hear about the escaped convict on the loose in the city?”
This city was already full of criminals, so what’s one more? But it must be really bad if she was mentioning it. “What was he in jail for?”
“Rape! Mr. Cox, what do you think about that?”
He was engrossed in the report and ignored her.
Poor Mrs. Barnes was still standing there waiting for him to reply, so I said, “Well, I hope the cops catch him soon.”
“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” he finally said. “The cops are as incompetent as the rest of the world. The only three competent people in the world are in this office right now.”
Mrs. Barnes and I looked at each other. I suppressed a smile at my boss’s usual grumbling while she rolled her eyes at him.
Sitting down in the seat next to me, she had an impish grin on her face, the kind kids have when they’re about to get into mischief. “Laura, sweetie, aren’t you scared?” she said. Don’t you have a long walk every night to get to your car?”
“I do. My parking lot is about a mile away.” It was the only one in my budget, but I had pepper spray with me at all times. That escaped con wasn’t the only danger out there. “But I’m not worried, what are the chances of that one convict crossing my path in a city of millions?”
“Humph. Well, I don’t like it. A young woman shouldn’t have to walk to her car alone at night.”
What was she up to? And why? “Thank you for your concern, but a security guard always escorts me to my car,” I said. “It’s one of the company’s policies if a woman leaves the office alone after dark.” So far, though, I’d never seen anyone leave alone except for me. I should attempt to at least make a couple of friends so I had someone to walk with at night.
“Oh good. I had forgotten about that policy since my husband usually picks me up. Tell me, which guard escorts you?”
“Usually Jim.”
“That’s not good enough,” Mr. Cox said under his breath as he shuffled his papers, a scowl etched on his brow.
Was he talking about the guard or my report? Must be my report. In seconds, I was a ball of nerves as I wondered what he found lacking in my work.
With a satisfied grin on her face, Mrs. Barnes stood. “Well, I’ll leave you two to your meeting.” She left through the adjoining door on the right.
I wrung my hands. “I can redo the analysis.” What if he kills the project completely before I have a chance to prove myself? “Maybe if I change the probability to 35% instead? Or—”
“The work is great. Why would you redo it?” He looked up and gazed into my eyes with a hint of pride.
I sank back into my seat, relief washing over me. I must have misheard him earlier. Unless he was referring to the security team. That might make sense. He seemed to dislike most of the employees in the building.
Iwalked into Aunt Mable’s office, thoughts of that escaped convict uppermost in my mind. “Mrs. Barnes, is your husband picking you up?”
She gave me a warm smile. “Yes, of course, as always.”
Good. I didn’t want her going out on her own in the city after dark or having to drive herself after her near-fainting episode last week. “You should shorten your hours from now on. Leave the office at 4 instead of 6. And reduce your workweek to 4 days a week.”
