I’m So Sorry

Just as Evelyn finished wiping the toner from her hands, she heard footsteps rounding the corner. She froze, heart hammering, as Mr. Archer appeared in the hallway with two clients in tow—a distinguished-looking man and woman, both dressed impeccably in business attire. Evelyn’s eyes widened in horror as she realized her predicament: she was standing there in her white undergarments, dotted with lovely tiny red hearts, and her thigh-high stockings with delicate lace trim.

For a split second, there was silence, everyone too stunned to react. Mr. Archer’s usually composed expression faltered, his eyebrows shooting up as he took in the scene. The clients exchanged startled glances. Evelyn’s cheeks burned as she clutched her arms across her breasts and crotch, too mortified to move or speak.

Evelyn’s cheeks flushed as she looked down, realizing just how exposed she was—only in her undergarments. She felt rooted to the spot, her mind scrambling for an explanation, when she heard a throat clear pointedly.

“Mrs. Jacobs!” Mr. Archer’s voice cut through the silence, and she looked up, her face burning. He was staring at her in shock, his brows raised. “That is not appropriate office attire!”

The two clients beside him struggled to maintain straight faces, though Evelyn could see one of them turning away, clearly trying to stifle a laugh.

“I—I’m so sorry,” she stammered, clutching a nearby folder to her chest in a **** attempt to cover herself. “The toner… it exploded, and I thought—”

Mr. Archer took a steadying breath, glancing quickly at his clients before turning back to her with a pained expression. “Evelyn, why don’t you take a few minutes to… find something more suitable,” he said with **** calm. “I’ll handle the report.”

Nodding, Evelyn made a hasty retreat down the hallway, her mortification complete. She barely dared to imagine how she’d face Mr. Archer—or the clients—again, but right now, her only goal was to find some semblance of dignity.