64- Waiting call

She can’t help but share in my excitement albeit her confusion. “What’s happening? Fucking talk!”
After I'm able to bring my smile under control, I move my hand away from my mouth. “My boss just spoke to me as his employee for the first time since I started working there.”
All the blood drains away from her face. “What?” “Long story,” I reply.
She sits up straighter on the arm chair she has been lounging in. “You better start fucking talking.”
I’m well aware of the rant and aggravation that is going to follow my narration but it doesn’t matter much to me. I can take it. In that moment in fact, it seems that I can take anything because finally, I have a goddamn fucking chance with that godforsaken boss.



he next morning, I arrive with just a few minutes left before the stipulated arrival time of 8 AM.
When I see that neither my boss nor his driver Andrew is outside the building, I head on up to the office. I’m still very much on edge, though the source of my agitation has now switched from the concern that he wasn’t giving me any attention whatsoever as an employee, to the even larger concern that he now is. Somehow, it all feels like some sort of trap. Perhaps the goal is to give me an opportunity to mess up so he can find a real reason to fire me?
Or perhaps my tantrum the previous day truly got to him and has earned me a real chance? None of it really matters either way because regardless of the motive behind this move, I’m going to take it and run with it.
I stayed awake late into the night, reviewing the materials for the event and examining the previous ones so that I can be of thorough assistance with whatever he will possibly need.
The elevator finally reaches his floor, so I wait until the doors slide open to step out. It does not however register that there is someone in front of it until it is too late.
My heart jumps into my throat as I all but crash into the person in my haste. “Oh, my God!”
Our bodies stagger dangerously backwards and it seems like forever before a hand clamps down hard on one of my arms. We are both brought to an abrupt stop and as I notice the magnitude of the damage that I have caused, the apologies burst from my mouth. “I’m so sorry,” I gasp, but I become so stunned by the brown stains that have soaked into his shirt that my heart just fails me altogether.
My boss glares down at me.
I can't keep from relating the rage in his eyes to that of a bull preparing to charge me. He remains silent but his grave annoyance at the accident is painted all over his face.

I have on a beige chiffon blouse underneath my dark suit and it is now pitifully soiled, but that is not my concern. The stained light blue dress shirt he has on is thoroughly ruined.
The higher concern however is that I have burned him. I’m too in shock to feel my own burns if there is any, so I focus solely on him. After putting the half emptied cups down, I pull my jacket off my body and begin to tap it against his chest. “I’m so sorry.” Tears sting my eyes.
He stops me with an impatient, startling tone. “You need that.” He pulls the jacket away from his chest and then turns around to return to his office.
I’m left with a soiled floor, empty cups and trembling knees. I don’t know what to do.
I consider just turning around and walking away from the building. There’s no way I’m going to have a job after this, and the event! He is going to be late if he doesn’t recover on time. I decide then to at least try to be of some sort of help before I leave.
So I head to his office and find his door open. I hear the sound of a tap running, but hesitate to go inside, so I just wait by the door and gaze nervously at my watch. I hear him begin to approach and hurry behind my desk to hide. I can’t even meet his eyes when he comes out.
I’m sorry, I prepare myself to say, but then when I look up, I see that he has changed.
He still has on the same dark suit jacket but he is now in a white dress shirt. He looks surprised to see me just standing there. “We’re running late,” he says. “Aren’t you going to change?”
I’m shocked. “Um, I d-don’t—?”
“Go into my bathroom. There’s a small closet there so pick one of the shirts and hurry downstairs.” He places my jacket on the table and walks away.
For the first few seconds, I can’t move but then a quick glimpse at the wall clock reminds me of how urgent things are. So, I rush into his office and head for the closet. There is indeed a small provision of extra suits and dress shirts and I immediately go for a white one.
Of course, my petite frame is drowning inside it but, I quickly make it work. I tuck it into my pencil skirt, leave the collars and a few holes unbuttoned, before gently folding the long sleeves up my arms. Coupled with the delicate gold jewelry around my neck, I conclude that things don’t seem too bad.
I grab my jacket and hurry out of the building. His car is waiting out front so I knock nervously on the front door, unwilling to sit beside him.
The driver rolls down the pane. “I’ll take my car and drive behind you—”

“Get in.” Grady’s crisp, cold voice comes from behind me. Reluctantly, I pull the latch of the door open but it doesn’t budge. “Come around,” he says.
I hurry around the vehicle in my dark pumps and try my best to slide in as gracefully as possible despite my flustered state.
The driver immediately moves, so I busy myself with staying as still as possible. I’m even almost afraid to breathe.
A few minutes pass by before he speaks to me, and the first words out of his mouth are, “You’re late.”
I swallow, hard. “I’m so sorry. I would have been at the office a few minutes earlier but I stopped by to get us the cups of—”