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Buttoning up the tailored jacket that was meant to be worn open, she was met with someone nearly as maddening as Carmen. Martina, the tall strawberry blonde that had competed with her for the associate agent spot and lost, aimed her noxious smirk at her the moment she got out of the bathroom.
Had she heard about the stupid little fender bender? Had she told Natalia before she’d had the chance?
Without saying a word, Martina caught her in an intractable stare from her head spot in the agency’s bullpen — the dozen open workstations along the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Biscayne Bay. Martina had graduated to the head workstation when Lola had been promoted to associate.
Lola had expected Martina to quit when she lost, but instead she’d stayed and made herself a permanent irritant. Lola could always feel her hot breath on the back of her neck. She was always circling, waiting for a chance to screw her over. Straightening, Lola vowed that today wouldn’t be the day.
Instead of going to her side of the office, the one she shared with Adriana and the kitchen, Lola went straight for Natalia’s glass encased office that sat at the corner of the open concept industrial space like a crown jewel.
She hadn’t expected to find Natalia’s shades drawn so early in the morning. Glancing at her smart watch, she regretted having taken so much longer in the bathroom than she realized. That her heart was pumping so fast that her watch thought she was working out was also not awesome.
Before Lola could turn on her heels and start for her own office, Natalia’s glass door opened and all of her navy blue shades rolled up at once. The delivery woman dressed in brown uniform shorts and matching button down was coming out of Natalia’s office. With a grin on her lips, the woman spared Lola a wink before collecting a stack of packages from Martina.
No one talked about Natalia’s affinity for women with short hair and arresting smiles, and no one dared comment on the only times she ever closed her shades. Whatever packages she was receiving were none of her business.
Relief slowed Lola’s steps to a stride. If she’d been busy with the delivery woman, maybe Martina hadn’t had a chance to get ahead of her. She’d be able to explain things to Natalia before anyone else shaped the narrative.
Nerves Lola couldn’t suppress punctuated each of her steps until she all but stopped walking. Maybe now was a bad time. Maybe she should wait until—
From behind her desk, Natalia looked up like she’d sensed blood in the water. Whatever the delivery driver had been there to do, Natalia didn’t have a single hair out of place in her perfectly cut bob that ended bluntly at her shoulders. In her ivory suit, her olive skin was as bright as her glossy brown hair. Natalia was everything that Lola aspired to be. Who she worked so hard to impress.
With nothing but a look and the way she pulled off her reading glasses, Natalia communicated for Lola to come in and explain herself. She got the sickening sense that she already knew. That she was going to be blamed for Carmen’s impulse.
“You’re wearing my coffee,” Natalia said when Lola reached her doorway. Leaning back in her high-back navy leather chair, Natalia’s gaze landed exactly where the stains on her shirt were concealed behind the closed black jacket.
Lola didn’t dare look down. Didn’t dare concede she was right.
“Sit,” Natalia said, no question in her voice. “I was copied on an email from Bamford’s assistant.”
Lola’s heart raced so fast that it triggered the nearly unstoppable urge to vomit. If she’d had time to eat anything that morning, she may have ruined Natalia’s Vivienne Westwood jacket.
She hadn’t considered that something so stupid could get her fired, but she should have. In the years Lola had worked at Dominion, she’d seen people fired for truly trivial things, but she had to be different, right? Being promoted to associate had to come with some leeway. Some grace.
“The thing about the anger management,” Lola started, trying so hard not to show any emotion. To stay calm like Adriana would, or in control like Natalia. “There’s no way she can make me—”
“You’re going to do it,” Natalia said, picking up her gold pen and getting back to whatever she’d been doing.
“What?” Lola laughed because there was nothing else to do in the face of something so absurd. “I will not waste valuable time on the whims of some—”
Natalia stopped her with a look.
“Bamford is completely unpredictable,” Natalia seemed to agree. “Six years ago, she decided no one above the twentieth floor was going to pay rent for three months.”
Lola couldn’t figure out whether Natalia was joking, so she kept her face as neutral as she could.
“She has threatened us with eviction if you don’t attend four weeks of whatever—”
“But that can’t possibly be grounds for terminating our lease—”
“Do you deny driving above the posted speed limit in the garage and nearly hitting Julio with your car?” Natalia’s perfect eyebrow curved in question.
“When you say it like that—”
“How else would I say it?” Natalia gave no quarter. “Is that incorrect?” Her tone made it clear that the question was rhetorical.
Tightening her jaw, Lola physically restrained herself from explaining about Carmen and the bus. It would sound like she was making excuses. Natalia hated excuses.
Faced with her silence, Natalia continued. “Will your work suffer while you’re making amends to Bamford?”
