Look around the room for clues

You look around the room for clues; which is not easy as there is next to nothing in her office.

Why is it always grey and off white? You think to yourself.

You’re reminded that these offices are leased; a fact that didn’t make sense due to the size of the company. There must have been a couple hundred employees across the multiple locations; implying that this was a big company - something you couldn’t tell by Maisy’s office décor, or lack thereof. Companies of this size usually have logo paraphernalia all over their walls, pens and chairs. However this whole building was absent of such signs. Hell, if it wasn’t for the contract he signed, you wouldn’t even know the company you worked for.

What are the chances? That my first assignment is with the owner’s daughter. Referring to her as ‘daughter’ is a stretch. Despite her bitchiness, she carries herself with confidence and you get the sense she’s been in this industry for a number of years, and she’s definitely not straight out of college.

“So…” Your voice trails off, as you attempt to fill the empty silence. “Am I fired?”

She tilts her head as if perplexed. Reaching down, Maisy snags her handbag which emanates a strong fragrance of italian leather, and takes out a ring bound ledger. Licking her fingers, she rifles through the pages, eyes focused as her pupils pursues the pages. You eyes track down her long neckline, accented Her eyes are bright blue; which contrasts against her soft peach skin.

What’s wrong with me? You think to yourself, here I am about to lose my job and all you’re thinking about is clasping her hands in yours and running your fingers through the tresses of her luxurious hair. You’re intoxicated by her presence, entranced by the way she looks, the way she speaks and the way she carries herself. It’s sadistic, and it takes all of your concentration not to stare.

You look down, as if to avoid the way you’re openly gawking at her. Then you notice it, a glint of a square object beneath her deck. What is that? Is that a picture frame?

“Fifteen Months Jake. That’s how long you’ve been with us” She says, drawing you out of your thoughts.

“A year and 3 months is another way of putting it.” You correct her.

She raises her eyebrows, “Really? You’re in trouble and you’re giving me lip?”

“Well if I'm going to be fired, I might as well go out with a bang.”

Maisy glances down at her ledger again, “It didn’t say you were a smartass.” She continues as if ignoring your presence.

After an extended silence, you speak up again. “Look. I’m not going to beg for my job, I’d hope my work speaks for itself. Your records should indicate that. I have met quota every month and should be one the better salesmen on this floor. One erroneous comment shouldn’t erase that.”

She smiles, not looking up. “So you believe that absolves you of professional conduct in the workplace? That puts you about common decency? That I should ignore the professionality clause of your employment contract?”

You don’t recall the clause she’s referring to, although you’re not willing to stake your employment on it.

“Look Maisy.”

Maisy’s face scowls, eyes glaring toward yours.

“Miss Smith,” you correct yourself, “I think you may have dropped something. I think it’s broken.”

Maisy shift uncomfortably in her chair, using her foot to push the object farther behind her desk, out of view. The soles of her shoe hit the unmistakable sound of glass. “That’s none of your concern. I think we’ll talk about your performance. You’ve been making people uncomfortable in the office and staring at your female coworkers have begun to be a problem… and the comments…”

As you start to zone out her voice, a solitary thought in your mind. A picture frame?

That’s when it hits you and you look at Maisy again. You really look at her this time. She’s scowling since she got into the office this morning, her hands are clasped in tight, balled fists and her hair , which is usually in pristine auburn curls, is straight today. You’ve seen this before. Any guy who’s ever been in a relationship before has seen this. She’s pissed, and for the first time since you’ve entered her office, you realize that it’s not about you.

But she has a wedding ring! You think, as it dawns on you what happened. Why you’re in this room and why she’s been pissy the last couple of weeks.

“So Maisy,” you sneer confidently, “what’s her name?”

“What are you?” She begins

Emboldened by her hesitation, you rise in your seat. “Look, I'm not going to waste anymore time. Like I was saying, my performance is stellar.”

“Jake, I don’t think you understand the seriousness of the situation. We may have to move in a different direction should the situation not improve.”

“Cut the crap,” you retort, getting to your feet, “this isn’t about my performance as I make the company more money than anyone on this floor. And the only woman I've been staring at these past few weeks is you, so you can’t claim I'm making anyone else uncomfortable. And last I checked, I've been gawking at you the past month and this is the first I've ever heard of a complaint.”

She’s taken aback by the abruptness, blue eyes staring at you inquisitively. Maisy bits her lower lip, then casts her eyes down. “Jake…” she says, suddenly speechless.

You wonder if she’s never been talked to in such a fashion, but as soon as the thought enters your head, you realize you don’t care. You move toward the door.

“Her name is Jessica.”

You stop in your tracks, “What?” you ask

“The bitch my husband slept with. Her fucking name is Jessica.” Maisy whispered. The windows in Maisy’s office were faux wood white. Amber afternoon sunlight filtered in and shadows masked Maisy’s forlorn gaze to the street outside.

***

After the consultation in her office, Maisy avoided you for the rest of the day. No other words were exchanged after that meeting, as if all the anger faded from her eyes and she lost the will to be a bitch. It was difficult to feel sorry for her, for all that was essentially wrong in her life, nothing excused making the life of the rest of them, a living hell.

Days past and she’s crossed you in the office a number of times; and while the venom in her voice was far from removed when in the office, there was a twinge of difference when she addressed you. You talk now and again, either business or an exchange of short pleasantries. She treats you with kid gloves and the animosity in her voice is gone when she talks to you. More than once you’ve caught her screaming at one of her other subordinates, her demeanor changing when you enter the room, her face flush as if embarrassed when matching your gaze.

It’s a slow morning days later. You’re working on your TPS reports as usual.

“Zach!” Maisy’s voice echoed in the hall, as if to exemplify your thoughts. “Where the fuck is my TPS reports?”

You noticed a couple of the junior associates duck their heads into their keyboards, as an ostrich would do to avoid danger. You equally see Zach signing some documents at his desk, as if the boss isn't screaming bloody ****.

“Zach? What the fuck are you doing? Go in there!” You say.

Zach raises his eyebrows “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me buddy. I’m waiting till she comes here.”

You almost stop, mouth agape. “Do my ears deceive me? Zach is afraid of a woman? Where’s that playboy that I always hear about.”

Zach rolls his eyes, “Bitches aren’t worth it Jake, take it from me. Leaves you with a sting in your balls and a hole in your wallet.” He scratches his head, “at least that’s how I think the saying goes.”

You can’t help but smile, Zach has been making fun of you for months for your years long dry spell. “She’s hot man, go suck it up.”

“Go fuck yourself Jake,” Zach says, half joking. “Why don’t you take it to her, what with your special relationship and all.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh please, as if the whole office doesn’t know by now. You disappear in her office, we hear voices, and the past week has been awkward between the two of you. If you weren’t such a loser, you’d know it too.”

“Oh please, we had one moment, and it was a weird one at that. It wasn’t like we’ve been talking for months.” You say.

“Whatever dude. I know women,” he replies, “and she treats you different.”

“It was one moment.” you insist. “Besides, all I care about is keeping my job until I find something better.”

“ZACHH! For FUCKS SAKE!” Her voice is a screech at this point.

Why me? Famous last thoughts.

“...Jake should go...” says one voice

“...yeah buddy, you got this…” says another

“...maybe he’ll fuck her and shut her ass up once for all…” says a final one

You know what’s expected of you, as you feel the eyes in the cubicles next to you, turn toward you. “Fuck you guys!” you say out loud, so everyone can hear. “Bunch of pussies.” You take the document on Zach’s desk, then turn toward Maisy’s door.

*****

Maisy telltale auburn hair falls across a black bodice, facing away from you, as you enter the room. “For fuck’s sake Zach, what took you so long? I need that document to get the fuck out of here.”

You notice that the picture frame is absent from her office this time, no sign of broken glass, or your faux altercation. Absent is the scent of strawberries and she looks more disheveled than she’s had in the past. She hasn’t been good. The ring is still on her finger and you can only assume that she hasn’t confronted her husband about the affair. You can’t help but feel sorry for her, and while you’ve not really had extensive contact with her, you can only imagine what’s going on in that head of hers.

I should just give it to her and leave. You shuffle toward her desk to give her the document, “Here it is…”

“Jake?” She turns her eyes, brilliant striking blue, toward you, voice softening. “I didn’t hear you. Zach…”

“Couldn’t make it.” You cut her short, “had to leave early for some reason. Is this what you were looking for?”

Maisy shifted a straw lock of hair from the front of her face, “Yeah Jake, it is.” She shuddered then, as if realizing what she was doing. She cleared her throat, “It’s about time you got this to me Jake, I expect more of you.” She says.

You didn’t believe the acrimony in her scorn this time. It felt bogus, an act almost. You stride forward confidently, adjusting the blinds she was standing next to, your arm bushing against hers. “These cheap ass blinds, always off a little.” You feign.

Smooth move Jake, you must be watching cheap porn if you think that’s going to work. Going to work? What the fuck? Are you trying to hit on her? What the fuck are you doing? Your inner voice screams. Are you insane? What do you think is going to happen?

Maisy bites her lower lip, looking down, then darts her blue eyes toward yourself. “You know Jake, I do need some help with these reports, they have to be filled by the end of business.”