Chapter 25 No One Refuses A Free Meal
Eden’s POV:
I should be happy. I’m innocent and Mr Grisham knows it.
Now that Stacey has left, neither of us say anything. He should be apologising. He should be giving Stacey the same treatment he gave me. Not that I want Stacey to be fired. I really don’t. The double standard just upsets me.
He didn’t even hesitate to believe her. He took her word for it without a second thought. Even though they’ve worked together for a few years now, it still hurts. He wasn’t even willing to give me the chance to explain myself and yet he outright refused her resignation even when he knew she was at fault.
I wait for him to say something. Anything at all. Even if it’s just one word would be better than this. But he doesn’t and I’m disappointed.
He wasn’t kidding. This is a waste of time. As confidently as I can, I stride towards the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Home,” I reply.
“What? Why?” He at least has the good grace to look awkward.
“You told me to leave.”
“Yeah but…”
“But what?” I ask. “I’m suspended.”
“Obviously, that’s no longer relevant.”
“Obviously?” I almost laugh. “You’re clearly very busy; I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Eden, you don’t need to leave.”
“Until my suspension is officially lifted, yes I do.”
“Eden,” he says, moving towards me, “I’m sorry.”
His apology is almost ten minutes too late. It’s pretty much meaningless. An afterthought.
If I stay here, I’m going to say something I will probably regret. I’m more tempted than I should be to just give him my resignation. Unlike Stacey’s, he’d probably accept mine.
“Have a good day, Mr Grisham,” I say.
“Stop right there,” he says. “You’re not seriously going home?”
I consider telling him that I am indeed going home. He should be grateful I’m not resigning. Truth is, if my grandma wasn’t Eliza Clancy I’d have resigned on Friday.
As angry as I still feel, I’m not sure I can actually go. After what’s happened, I can only imagine how hard the team outside this office are having to work. Of course, I want to help them, but I’m also fuming with Noah.
“You better email HR then,” I say tersely before leaving his office.
He follows me out. “Does that mean you’re staying?”
I force a smile onto my face as I immediately feel everyone’s eyes on me. They’re not even trying to hide the fact that they’re looking at me.
Stacey comes up to me, taking my hand in hers.
“You’re not leaving, are you?” she asks, her eyes fearful.
“No. I’m not leaving,” I say softly.
“Oh good. I was so worried,” she says. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” I tell her, squeezing her hands. “Accidents happen.”
The others gather around me, expressing their concern. They don’t want me to leave. I repeat that I’m not going and gradually everyone begins to settle back down again.
“Come with us for lunch?” Rob offers.
“That’s ages away,” Stacey chastises him.
“No. It’s not,” Rob replies defensively.
Glancing at my watch, I realise he’s right. I hadn’t rushed to come in early this morning seeing as how I was suspended but I’m still surprised to realise that it’s almost noon.
“Eden, it’s your pick,” Rob says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “We’ll make the boss pay since he was so mean to you.”
“Hey!” Noah grumbles.
“It’s alright. I’m not hungry. You should all go without me.”
The last thing I want is for Noah Grisham to buy me lunch but I can’t tell them that. Noah looks like he wants to say something but he keeps quiet as he gives Rob his card.
“Bring me something back, please,” he requests before making his way back into his office.
“Please come with us,” Stacey asks me. “Please.”
Knowing that Noah isn’t going, I’m tempted. I certainly don’t want to be the only one in the department with him. They’re all looking at me expectantly and I don’t want to refuse them.
“Alright then,” I say, giving in, falling into step with them.
“But I’m paying for myself,” I say almost as an afterthought, looking back at the door to Noah’s office.
"Why?" Stacey laughs. "No one refuses a free meal."
I can't say I agree. The way I see it, my proud is worth far more than the cost of my lunch.
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