Monday morning wraps up a weekend of spiraling—just me, my wine, and my ever uniquely anxious thoughts.
It’s still dark outside when I board the first bus—the hardest bus ride because my stomach is still churning from my not-so-happy hour last night. I’d texted Cliff that I didn’t need a ride. There’s no way I’m going back into his car.
When I arrive at the office, I have to switch on the floor lights. My footsteps echo through the barren room. As I brew the first pot of coffee for the club, I mourn the bitter scent, the gurgle of the machine. I mourn it all because it may well be the last.
I sit down at my desk and bring my monitor to life. All the regular programs open, sitting uselessly on the screen. Cliff’s little icon indicates he’s online; he came in early too. We’re probably the only two people in this building. I wonder if he’s also looking at my icon.
Eventually, Rhonda trudges into the unit first, her big, embroidered bag heaving against her chest. I follow her movements as she walks toward her seat. All the questions I’ve been obsessing over all weekend scream inside my head: Does she know anything? Did Kyle return to the bar and tell them everything?
Rhonda pauses next to my desk and grins at me. “Hope everything’s okay, dear. I didn’t see you leave on Friday.”
My smile wobbles. “Yes, thank you. I was feeling a little ill.”
She nods once. “Been there.”
As she sets her bag onto her desk, I add, “But thanks for asking.”
And I really mean it. I guess it can be a little nice sometimes when she doesn’t mind her own business. Sometimes. A little.
When she doesn’t ask any more questions, I feel a minuscule beat of relief. I doubt Rhonda would hold back if she’d heard a rumor about me, but then again, she was feeling that wine pretty good on Friday. Maybe she doesn’t remember. I watch as she preens Joey’s leaves, lips downturned.
Armin trudges in next, hair mussed and eyes red. He nods my way before heading to the lunchroom.
Then Caitlin comes in, her cinnamon perfume wafting across the room as she heads to the fridge to stash her bland-looking chicken salad. I hold my breath and stare down at the little blinking light on my hard drive, following the sound of her routine as she reemerges to head to her desk, taking off her jacket and sliding into her chair. Every tiny motion stacks up against me. What does she know?
Caitlin gets up and walks to Rhonda’s desk. “Thanks for the party Friday night.”
Rhonda swivels her chair around. “Of course, dear! I’m glad you had fun.”
“It was a blast.” Caitlin’s voice sounds slightly hoarse. I glimpse at her over the cube wall; her demeanor is stiff. Suddenly, her gaze crawls to me. I try not to look tense as I nod a greeting.
She passes behind my desk next, stopping in her tracks to look at me. Her mouth twists. “Oh, Jolene.”
My life stops. All the blood in my arteries freezes.
“Thanks for decorating on Friday.”
What the hell? I search her face for any clue, anything to tell me what she knows, but her expression is imperceptible.
“No problem.” I smile for half a second, while her eyes shift and lock deeper into me, like she’s trying to read something behind them. I try to keep still even as my heart pounds in my ears, my fingers tightening around my mouse. Then she simply turns and heads back to her desk.
I release a breath. Caitlin’s not the type to be coy about using any ammo she has against me. But I can’t understand it. Did Kyle not tell her? I didn’t get the impression he’d take pity on me.
Just as Caitlin’s sitting down, an email comes in for her.
From: Gregory Hall
To: Caitlin Joffrey
Subject: Re: meeting re: new ideas and info
Caitlin,
I appreciate that you are eager to workshop new ideas about the office, but there’s not much time in my schedule available for this week. Not to worry, there will be other chances to discuss another day, I’m sure.
Regards,
Gregory
I check Caitlin’s sent folder. She’d emailed Gregory on a Saturday to request another meeting with him, saying she had “new information” to discuss about her project.
My eyes flash to the top of Caitlin’s head, visible above her screen. I hear the distinctive double tap of her opening the email.
And that’s when it occurs to me: she didn’t light her diffuser today.
What does she know?
As soon as the lunch hour is up, an email from Cliff arrives.
Jolene,
Hope the rest of the weekend went well. My apologies for having to do this, but a bit of an HR emergency has arisen, so I’m going to have to ask you to complete our next session at your desk. Because this is my doing, it won’t count against you, and I’ll be available to answer any questions. I’ve attached the booklet and worksheet.
I trust this will be okay?
Best,
Cliff
As I’m reading the email, about a thousand pounds of shame hits. This is how it’s going to be going forward. I’ve messed everything up. I want to demand he see me. I want to hide in a box.
I reply:
Sounds great! Also, it just occurred to me I’m going to the gym, so I won’t need a ride home. In fact, I’ve started a new routine where I will be going to the gym every morning and evening. It’s great!
Jolene
It’s for the best. And when Cliff doesn’t reply, it’s like a resolution. We can’t just be friends.
A message pops up from Caitlin to Armin and Rhonda:
Caitlin: Have you guys noticed Jolene is a little different these days? Like she has an edge?
Rhonda: What are you suggesting, dear?
Caitlin: She’s been meeting a lot with the HR guy. Maybe he’s giving her tips on how to stay here. Doesn’t it seem like she’s getting insider info or something? How the hell did she make a flow chart THAT DETAILED by just doing our job?
My head starts to buzz as Armin tilts his gaze toward me. I pull my eyes toward my keyboard and focus on my hands.
Rhonda: I think she’s just trying harder after she got in a bit of trouble. She’s been so helpful lately.
Armin: Yeah, she’s making more of an effort. Who can blame that?
Caitlin: But it feels like she knows things. Like she has access to some drive or something.
Armin’s shoulders tense and I feel his eyes pull toward me. Again. I don’t dare change my expression from the solid stone coating that I’ve yielded. I pretend to continue working as I slowly combust from the inside.
Armin: Nah, I get the vibe you’re overestimating her. This is Jolene Smith, longtime secretary at Supershops—the girl who got in trouble for not changing the font color on an email. She’s not some spy . . . she’s just a bit weird.
Caitlin: I mean that’s true, but I think the word you’re looking for is “loser.”
My heart, insides, and entire being tightens. That word. I blink and I blink to fight away whatever is prickling the corners of my eyes.
A new email pops up, a shipping notice from Aritzia. It’s the stupid blazer I thought I’d buy myself as an early promotion gift.
I’ll have to request a refund.
What a silly concept—me, speaking at the front of a meeting room, wearing a blazer. I’m so embarrassed my vagina hurts. I want to shake out of my skin and die. I stare at my keyboard as my insides twist together.
The heat of Armin’s gaze burns against my cheek again.
To hide my reaction, I grab the Supershops mug filled with lukewarm coffee and press it to my lips.
A new message from Armin appears:
Armin: I have something to confess. I’ve been coming in early and taking the mugs from the lunchroom and dipping them in the toilets. I know it’s bad, but nobody can stop me and it’s fun to watch people drink from them.
I lean closer to the screen, mug resting against my lips—
Instantly, I recoil and drop it.
Shit. My head pounds. He sent the message to Maternity Leave Celeste, who won’t see it.
The mug clatters onto the plastic that’s meant to help my chair roll. Everyone in the pods, and even Garret and Stu, look at me as coffee splashes my feet.
But it’s Armin’s expression that halts my heart.
He’s smirking.
The next message is sent directly to me.
Armin: I fucking knew it! Meet me in the archive room. Five minutes!
My skin shivers and my brain overheats. I’m busted. I’m completely fucked.
Armin leaps from his desk. “Hey, Jolene, let me get you a cloth.”
I duck under my desk to get the coffee cup, wishing I could stay here forever.