Back at my desk, I unlock my phone and stop the recording. Two new text notifications from my mom are waiting for me.
Mom: There’s a new cheat where they sneak drugs in your luggage and another guy kidnaps you! Don’t travel.
Mom: Also, Starbucks is a waste of money.
I swipe them away unread, linking my headphones to press play. The dead static of an empty boardroom plays.
I hit pause.
Anything could be in this recording. Yeah, Gregory will surely make me recoil minute one, but that’s not what’s tensing my butt cheeks.
It’s silly. It’s literally Cliff’s job to talk about me behind my back. I need to get a grip.
It’s this place—that’s it.
As if to confirm my fears, footsteps tumble behind me as Larry and Joy pass by, matching mugs in hand and downturned mouths. They’re discussing the quality of the duffel bag they each got as a fifteen-year appreciation gift from Supershops.
I can’t do it here. I can’t hear something that’ll make me want to dissolve into a pile of dust while Stu fiddles with the angle of his desk fan. But I can’t wait until I’m safely at home either. I can’t sit through another car ride with Cliff if he’s sold me out.
I slide my phone into my back pocket. I’m only too aware of myself and everyone I pass as I head toward the elevator, then keep going straight. The archive room at the end of the hall greets me like a dark cloak, the earthy cardboard scent beckoning me inside. The shelves are stacked so tightly with bulky file boxes they basically soundproof the room. I’ve actually had a few decent cry breaks in here. Turning on the lights will surely draw the attention of a passerby, so I crouch in a corner and fully settle into the sensory deprivation of the dark room as I pop in my headphones and press play.
I speed past the initial greetings, managing to stop when Gregory just has to say, “Let’s get to the meat and potatoes then. What did you want to discuss?”
Cliff lets out a labored breath and says, “Well, I’ve met with most of the seventh-floor employees so far, but the most pressing thing is the employee in mandatory stress training. I think some of the resentments with the company are beyond the parameters of what we’re covering. The course isn’t designed to address these kinds of underlying mental health issues, and it’s not in my interest to set someone up for failure or inhibit their long-term success with Supershops.”
My heart drops into my stomach. Cliff had promised me he wouldn’t say anything when I panicked in his office. And now he has to tell the worst fuck in the world about my issues. This is why I shouldn’t have eaten his donuts or agreed to go out for milkshakes. I should never have agreed to be his carpool buddy.
He’s an HR guy deep in his soul.
Gregory clears his throat. “Well, that sounds simple enough. Failing the course equals termination.”
My blood freezes.
Cliff’s voice comes back. “Actually, I want to propose that the company provide more mental health support.”
Gregory’s laugh charges through my earbuds and grates against my bones. “Mental health support.” He chortles again. “We aren’t running a day spa. Let’s not make this too hard a puzzle. Failure in a mandatory course leads to termination. It’s the easiest and, better yet, cheapest solution.”
There it is. Exactly what I knew. How can Cliff be so dense? It’s not right.
There’s a moment of silence, filled only by my pounding heart.
“I understand that position,” Cliff finally says, voice soft as a baby’s bum. “But this is a long-term employee we’re talking about. If we ignore systemic issues and simply terminate, it can cause more costly problems. Big picture: I’ve seen this in many companies I’ve worked with. Supershops’ policies have contributed to a culture of resentment and feelings of insecurity from within.”
“Insecurity is one of the most effective motivators for productivity. I’m running one of the largest retailers in the country.” Gregory’s laugh rips through me again, churning my stomach. “Between you and me, it’s great when employees fail these last-chance courses. If all goes as expected, we may be able to terminate Larry by next week.”
My heart stops. Larry! Larry Goodwin. He must be the one in a stress course! I’d thought Cliff had gotten his wording wrong.
Relief rolls through me like a wave. I sink against a stack of boxes, my whole body going slack, until I think of Larry, sitting at home in his same khakis, nowhere to go, no other marketable skills. He’s a regional inventory assessor, and nobody actually knows what that means, but everyone’s afraid to ask.
Cliff’s voice is gentle. “We should wait to make a decision until we’ve completed our sessions to cover all bases.”
Gregory clears his throat. “What about the other course employee? How’s Jolene doing?”
I stop breathing.
“I see a lot of potential in her. She’s been taking the courses seriously, and I think she’s proving she can rise to the challenge.”
“Hmm. Well, if she ends up failing—”
Cliff’s tone sharpens. “I find that very unlikely—”
“That Armin kid is another low-hanging fruit,” Gregory interrupts. “He’s got a lot of unaccounted absences. If we track enough, we’ll have reasonable evidence to let him go.”
Cliff sighs as my tongue sours. “I met with him yesterday and . . . I’ve left my door open for him if he wants to discuss what’s affecting his performance. I’m not sure he’ll be an easy replacement.”
Gregory’s voice hardens. “We don’t pay people to be away from their desks. Let’s move on to Caitlin. She’s a very pleasant gal, but she’s going downhill with her errors. Last month her inventory report had three errors. Then last week there were two. If she makes any more, I might be calling you. These reports are critical.”
Oh my god. Caitlin was making errors before I dicked with her docs?
Gregory chuckles. “That’s how it goes. As soon as they get rings on their fingers, they stop caring about work, and then comes maternity leave after leave.”
The room heats up. I’d eat Gregory alive if he wasn’t so disgusting.
“Who exactly is the ‘they’ you’re referring to?” Cliff’s voice cuts sharper than I’ve ever heard. “As an HR rep that reports to head office first, I may need some clarity for my records.”
Gregory’s voice fumbles. “Employees. All employees,” he mutters.
I can’t help my lips from drawing up at the crack in his voice.
But the room suddenly lights up in a fluorescent flash, bright and blinding. Every one of my muscles tenses as I snag my headphones off with a tug.
I peek around a stack of boxes and find Caitlin huffing in the opposite corner, a giant stress line creasing her forehead. “I can do this,” she whispers.
I crouch behind the box stack again and try to tuck myself behind it, but her eyes dart to me in an instant.
“Were you hiding here in the dark? What the fuck—are you spying on me?” Her face twists.
“No,” I croak, my throat going suddenly dry. “I was looking for an old file.”
Her brows twist. “Why?” she accuses.
It’s just like Caitlin to think she owns the archive room when two hundred other people in this office need to file, cry, or hide.
But the line in her forehead sharpens and her lower lip trembles. It’s just me and her in here, and something about that feels raw and real.
I stand up. “And what are you doing here?” I blurt out.
Caitlin’s eyes widen. Then she huffs and turns away wordlessly, slamming the door shut behind her.
“Okay then,” I say to the empty room. “I’ll see you later.”
I return to my desk just as the clock hits five. Rhonda is packing up, and Armin’s things are already gone. There’s a new message waiting on my screen—one that’s actually meant for me.
Cliff: Did today seem longer than usual?
I smile to myself. It’s such a relief to let go of the fear from earlier. If Cliff had actually exposed me, it would have been worse than I care to admit.
But now at least it’s clear he hasn’t been putting on an act. He cares about people.
I type a reply and hit send before I can overthink it.
Jolene: Definitely. But in only a few mins I’ll be DJ-ing in your car . . .
Cliff’s icon shows he’s typing. Shows he’s deleting. Shows he’s typing again.
My breath halts with each move.
Cliff: Can’t wait!
It’s just an exclamation mark. It shouldn’t make my heart leap.