“Here you go, my love.” My new found friend suddenly appears behind my Thor just as I’m about to answer him. “Here’s your bottle, and I’ve thrown in a large white for you too.” She beams at me, clearly thinking that she’s doing me a favour, then tilts her head towards Noah and mouths “wow” over his shoulder. Wow is right, but we’re not going to be friends if she carries on making out that I’m some raging Lush. Then again, I guess she’d be right. “Can I get something for you?” She asks, before heading back to the bar.
“Just a bottle of beer for me, thanks.” Noah leans back in the booth, his legs so long and muscular that his knees are almost touching the table and his legs are sticking out from the sides. Jesus, he’s fucking perfect. All kinds of crazy images are running wild in my head right now. I’m even shocked at my own imagination. Pull it back Emily and get your head out of the gutter.
The question is, what the hell is he doing here with me? Now that’s something that I can’t seem to get my head around. “So how do you know Rachel?” I ask, once again curiosity getting the better of me. Knowing Rachel, there’s a high possibility that she doesn’t even know him, she’s just stalked and pecked him long enough to bag me a date. More importantly though, how is he even single?
“I’m pretty much a regular at her place.” He says and the words just casually slip off his tongue.
“You are?” I ask, slightly confused.
“Oh, not like that. I mean her coffee shop, not her actual place.” His voice comes across more forceful as he tells me this, and he seems adamant to make that little bit of information clear. Yet, a warm glow heats his face. From embarrassment? Maybe we’re not so different after all. Now there’s the plus that I’ve been looking for.
“If you were a regular at her house, trust me, I’d know all about you by now. Every teeny, tiny little thing, right down to your shoe size. She’s got a way of getting right down to the nitty gritty with people. I guess you could say it’s one of her many charms.”
We spend the rest of our date making small talk and finding out more about each other. I’m quite surprised actually. Considering he’s so good looking and he must know it too, he’s not arrogant at all. Yes, I know you shouldn’t judge people before you know them, but what can you do when the majority of the male population are utter bell-ends?
“Emily. Hello, are you there?”
“Huh? Did you say something?” Rachel looks at me gormlessly, which isn’t anything out of the ordinary to be fair. She’s always looked at me as if I’m from another planet. Why I guess I’ll never know “What?” Why is she smiling at me like that? Now she’s making me feel really uneasy. All I want to do is grab a quick coffee before heading to work. Instead, she looks like she’s taken some kind or legal or maybe not so legal high and she’s happily playing away with the fairies.
“I’m going to take that as a big fat yes, then. I knew it. Just call me this generation’s Cilla.” She gleefully chimes down my ear.
“What are you jabbering on about now? It’s early and I need my coffee Rachel.” I warn.
“Noah, you fool.”
Oh, Noah. My mind wanders back to him. Back to the place that it’s been since last night. In the flaming gutter. I woke up this morning and thought that I’d dreamt it all. Every last bit of it. I was totally convinced that he was just a figment of my imagination, that was until my phone buzzed to life, and there he was, my very own Thor, crashing through my overly damaged phone, zapping all my energy away like the real Thor does with the air, before pummelling all his hot, steamy rage down on you. Oh, how I would so love for that to happen in real life.
“Take your bloody mind out of the gutter, Emily. Jesus Christ, there’s only so much your poor heart can take so early on a Friday morning. Especially without your usual hit of caffeine.”
I’m fully aware that a large queue is beginning to form behind me and I know that now isn’t really the place to be getting into this kind of conversation. I know my best friend though and I know that she isn’t going to let this drop until I spill the beans to her. She’s a right nosey cow like that. It’s a bloody good job that I love her. “How about we meet for lunch? It’ll give us more time to talk then. You know, away from prying eyes and ears?” I add loudly.
She hands me my coffee but doesn’t break eye contact with me and I know she’s trying to pull the answers from my mind. “So there’s much to discuss, then?”
“Not really but you’ll just have to wait and see. Plus, anticipation is good for the soul so they say.”
“You’ll tell me anything. Be here for one-ish? I’ll be able to sneak off around that time.”
I can hear a not so silent huff behind me and my head whips around. “I’m almost done, so calm your arse. It’s no wonder you’re not getting laid with an attitude like that.” I snap at the sour, middle-aged man stood behind me. Rachel looks at me with raised eyebrows and I know that I’ve overstepped the mark a little. I hate people being rude, though, it really grates on me, but I really need to remember where I am at times. Rachel’s pride and joy is not somewhere that I should be starting a hoe-down show-down. I mouth a quick apology to her and grab my bagel. “One o’clock. I’ll be here.” I promise and I quickly dart out of the door.
The office is surprisingly quiet for a Friday morning. Even Cruella doesn’t look like she’s risen from her lair, yet. Maybe today might just be a good day after all. No whining, no bitching, just pure bliss, just me and my thoughts.
First things first, though. I need to enjoy my coffee before I can even contemplate doing any work. I take a sip and realise I’m going to need to drink it quickly before it turns into a poor man’s frappe. I mean come on, priorities and all that.
I scan the office around me once more as I patiently wait for my computer to come out of its coma. I sit and wait patiently. Still, nothing and it’s all a little strange. I’m shocked that Matt isn’t loitering around like he usually does. Does that man even sleep? I glance at the clock and it’s almost 9 am and no one’s here. Something’s definitely off, I just don’t know what, yet.
Where are you? Are you sick, or are you sick-sick? I quickly type out to Matt. The latter being that I’m a nosey bitch and I need to know if he got lucky last night. Maybe he’s really ill and he’s come down with man flu. Oh, bloody hell, I hope that’s not the case. If it is, then I’m never going to hear the end of it. A man with a cold is horrific. They act like the slightest sneeze will take them over the edge, destined never to breathe life ever again. I don’t know what it is, but men don’t half turn into horrific, hot messes when they’ve got just a sniffle. God only knows how they would react if they ended up having to deal with period cramps and dare I say it, childbirth?
“Oh, you’re already here. Good. I wasn’t all too sure if you’d received my memo.”
“Erm… hey. What memo?” I ask, slightly confused. Standing across from me is my boss. My real boss. The guy who actually pays my wages, not the little floozy who tries to waste them.
Graham looks as superior as ever. Nothing out of place, everything prim and proper. He would have made a wonderful gangster, but I guess that’s for another day. Though he may have aged over the years, he’s sure aged gracefully. Think sexy, silver fox. Think George Clooney, Phillip Schofield and the like. I’m about to ask some more questions when my phone buzzes loudly on my desk, interrupting my train of thought. I chance a quick peek and see a short and sweet reply from Matt.
Good luck, Parker.
Good luck? Why would he be wishing me luck? I’m the only one who’s rocked up at the office on time. If anything, he’s the one that’s going to need some luck. I swear if he’s been at my desk and mauled my stuff, happily spreading his germs, then he’s going to suffer a long and painful death at my own hands. I hate being ill. There’s nothing worse, well except when The Great British Bake off ends. That makes me feel ill, and a bit depressed and completely lost.
“Come on then, I don’t think you want to keep me w
aiting, do you?” He snaps and it’s not a familiar tone that I’m used to with Graham. Over the years, we’ve always had a good, solid work relationship. Could it be possible that he’s just having a bad day? I bloody hope so.
“Graham, what’s this about? You were the last person that I expected to see today.” I say, nervously. I feel physically sick and my gut is telling me to steer well clear of where this is going. Everything about this whole situation just smells off.
“I can see that. Let's get this over and done with, shall we? My office, now.” He doesn’t look at me, he doesn’t even wait for me to get up. Instead, he turns on his designer-clad foot and walks away from me, and there’s not a single smile in sight.
Why do I get the sudden feeling that I’ve done something wrong? I know I haven’t, but now I feel like I’ve been a naughty little school girl and now I’m being marched down to the headmaster's office to receive my punishment. I’m so confused. There’s been nothing wrong with my work, and my work pile has been empty for weeks. If anything, I’ve been busy clearing everyone else’s and what, this is the thanks I get? Being spoken to like a piece of shit from my boss, boss.
Realising I’ve not really got much choice in the matter, I gracefully stand and smooth down my pencil skirt, before dutifully following his lead. Not that I want to, I’d much rather throw a monstrous temper tantrum, screaming out really loud until it’s all over. Hey, if I thought it would work, then I’d already be on the floor giving it a go, but behaving like a loon isn’t going to get me out of whatever this is, is it?
I follow him into the office and stop before I reach the desk. “Wow.” I think to myself. Cruella’s been keeping herself busy in here. It looks nothing like the office space that Graham used to vacate. Gone is his masculine, bare-minimal approach, instead, it’s been completely transformed into what can only be described as an overindulgent hot, pink mess. Professor Umbridge would be so proud. Really the only thing that’s missing is the cat wall plates.
Now, I’m quite a girly girl myself, but the amount of pink, in a wide variety of different shades is sickening. The upturned set of Graham’s mouth shows me that he agrees with me too; one hundred percent. She’s definitely gone all out on this little project. I wonder how much the company had to fork out for this little feng-shui project?
“So, do you want to start, or shall I?”
“Okay.” I begin. Bloody hell, I’ve not been this nervous around him since the day he interviewed me. “Truthfully, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but from the way that you’re acting, I’m gonna take a wild guess and say it’s quite serious?”
Graham lowers himself down into his old leather chair and flexes his fingers a little before entwining them together and then placing them upright on top of the desk. He doesn’t answer me, so I take his silence as an affirmative yes. Instead, he raises his eyebrows slightly at me, silently asking me to continue.
“Honestly Graham, I’m so lost here. How about you help a girl out. Give me some kind of clue, please?”
“Sit.” His voice comes out firm and he nods towards the chair opposite him, but I’m too scared to move, worried that if I do, he’ll bark at me again. I really don’t like the man that he’s become since he’s been away. It’s been what, two weeks? I don’t recognise any part of him right now. He used to be so full of compassion, fun, and love. He used to be a giggle a minute. No matter what, Graham always looked after his own. “And they say you know a guy.” I think to myself. “You know, just because I’m not here every day, that doesn’t mean that I don’t know what’s been going on, or what’s been happening.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” I say sarcastically “because like I said, I’m completely out of it here. So please, go ahead and enlighten me.” I’ve been a solid, dedicated, hardworking and reliable employee at this firm for over five years now. To be fair, it’s probably the most reliable thing in my life right now. Actually, it is the only reliable thing in my life. Wow, thinking about it like that, it’s pretty depressing for an almost thirty-year-old. Not that I can do much about that right now. I’ll just have to save it and weep later, preferably with a large glass of wine.
“Enlighten you, I shall. Sit, please.” He says again. Now it could be me imagining it, but I’m pretty sure he almost choked on his manners just then. Unable to take the tension much longer, I pull out the chair and plonk my arse in it, wishing all this was over already.
“Okay Emily, look I like you, I’ve always liked you. You’re a good asset to this company, which I’m sure that you’ll more than agree.” Err… that would be a mahoosive hell yes. I don’t blow my own trumpet all that much, hardly ever actually, but one thing that I do know is that there’s no denying that I’m shit hot when it comes to my job.
“But…” I add, almost certain where this conversation is heading but unable to hold my tongue. Plus, no matter the situation, there always seems to be a but in this life.
“But,” he continues, painfully dragging this pointless situation on. Maybe he’s after a dramatic effect or something? Well if he is, he’s going the bloody right way about it. “Well, what can I say? These are words I never thought I’d have to say, least to you of all people.” Graham takes a deep breath, and a look of pity sweeps across his mature face, making him look thoroughly stressed. From where I’m sitting, whatever he’s trying to tell me, he clearly doesn’t want to say it.
“For crying out loud Graham, just spit it out. I’m a big girl, I’m sure I can take it.”
“I’ll ask you one last time Emily, is there anything that you would like to tell me?”
“No, absolutely nothing. I don’t know what you want me to do Graham. None of this is making any sense.”
“Well then, I guess I’m afraid I’m left with no choice but to suspend you with immediate effect until further notice.”
Wait, what? “Shut the front door,” I say. This has got to be some kind of joke. “Suspend me?” I burst out laughing, unable to stop myself, but Graham’s face doesn’t falter. That man’s poker face is on point, that’s for sure. “Okay, okay, you got me. I bet everyone’s in on it too, aren’t they? Where’d you hide them? You may as well tell them to come out now.” I look around the office, half expecting Matt and Cruella, maybe the other guys to come barrelling through the office door at any minute. What sick and twisted individuals do I spend most of my time around? Seriously, why would anyone want to pull a prank like that?
“Unfortunately, it’s not a joke Emily.”
“But… but it has to be. Why would you say that you were suspending me if it wasn’t a joke? Come on Gray, you can’t suspend me.” He’s got no grounds to suspend me on. This is bullshit.
“Emily, I think you’ll find that I can and I am.” He replies flatly.
“On what grounds? I haven’t done anything to warrant this.” Have I? I’m good at my job. I’m punctual, hardworking and I sure as hell wipe everyone else’s arse. I love my job. I love the banter; everything that this place brings. “Are you feeling okay? I don’t mean to be rude, but has it ever crossed your mind that you could potentially be on the verge of a mid-life crisis? Maybe a minor mental breakdown? I’m not saying it like it’s a bad thing, these kind of things happen to people all the time.” I’ve watched numerous shows to back this up too. “You might think that you’re acting rationally now, but believe me, you’re not. I’ve never seen him like this. Not once, in over five years. In my eye’s he’s being completely and utterly irrational here and he can’t even see it. “Why don’t you sleep on it?”
“Emily, it’s out of my hands.” I watch as he pulls his hand down over his gruff five o’clock shadow and I have to admit, he looks a little defeated. Deep down I can see that he really doesn’t want to do this. Maybe there’s still hope after all?
“So, it’s really not some sick joke that you’ve decided to play on me? This is all happening?” The realisation of his previous words hit me; hard. Super hard, like one of those horrific kidney punc
hes that catch you off guard. “Suspended?” I say again, more to myself, allowing it to register in my frazzled head.
“Gross misconduct is a serious issue, Emily. Like I said, it’s all out of my hands now.”
“How can it be out of your hands? You’re the boss. The Don of this whole empire. The Tony Montana.”
“I was.” He says and the tiniest smile plays on his lips, but it’s gone again in an instant. “That’s now Amanda’s role.”
“What?” I blurt out before I can stop myself. I don’t know why I’m so surprised, I should have seen this coming. I mean, what isn’t Cruella in control of these days? She’s well and truly stuck her fake claws in and taking poor Daddy dearest for everything that he’s got. “Maybe I could…” I start begrudgingly, but Graham quickly cuts me off.
“While this investigation is taking place, you’ll have no contact with Amanda, whatsoever. Is that understood?”
“But you just said she’s my boss now?”
“Emily, please don’t make this anymore difficult than it already is. I’m sorry, really I am, but you need to go and collect your belongings and I’m sure H.R will be in touch soon.”
“This is unreal. I don’t even know what it is that I’m supposed to have done. Is there an appeals process? Surely I’ve got rights too?”
“At this stage all I can say is that there have been some serious allegations concerning you that have been brought to my attention. These kinds of incidents can’t be brushed under the carpet either, Emily. There are rules and regulations for a reason. I’m sure you understand, no?”
Heartbreak's A Bitch! Page 5
