Yes

Slowly, her slim shoulders slightly slumped, Miss Wade stepped into my office, her gaze downcast. She paused before my desk, her clasped hand twisting before her stomach. I looked up at her as the secretary took a deep breath, wondering if the dream was false, despite her obvious entrance to my entreaty.

“I – I know I shouldn’t be bothering you, sir, knowing how busy you are, but,” the redhead said, her voice low, “I – I would like to go home. It’s – been a long day, sir.”

“What’s stopping you?” I asked. I knew of no reason why anyone’s work day should coincide with mine beyond the typical nine to five.

“Mrs. Mitchell informed me I needed to be available so long as one manager remained in the office,” she said.

“Oh,” I blinked. The Head of Human Resources knew how busy we were this time of year, especially me. Having a secretary around would ease the workload somewhat. “I’ll be another hour or so. Go on and call it a night.”

“Thank you, sir, but I can’t,” Miss Wade shook her head, a few hairs escaping the bun at the nape of her neck. “Orders are orders and I can’t afford to be fired, not – not right now.”

“On a thin rope with Mrs. Mitchell?” I asked, intrigued at her reticence but obvious want to leave.

“Some, Mr. Wilson,” she nodded.

“You’ve been with us – what? – six, seven years?” I asked. The secretary nodded. “I don’t understand how that hasn’t earned you some slack. Just go. I’ll handle Mrs. Mitchell in the morning.”

“Please, sir,” the redhead pleaded, “Could you call it a day? I don’t want – I can’t upset Mrs. Mitchell, not even a little.”

“I’d like to finish a few things here first,” I sighed, growing a little testy. “Perhaps – I wish you would just tell me why you think Mrs. Mitchell would fire you. It might help.”

“Sh-she told me the day I w-was hired I had to toe the line, sir,” the woman began trembling before my desk. “Mrs. Mitchell – she was upset that I even applied to work here, being a s-single m-mother. She – she d-disapproved of my – my ‘lifestyle.’”

“Really,” I frowned. Two for two. Maybe the dream was true. I still wasn’t convinced, not yet. “Go home, Miss Wade. I will talk to Mrs. Mitchell. You will not – you cannot be fired because you are a single mother.”

She stood across from me, her pretty emerald eyes on mine, small tears dangling from her lashes, and gave a short, fearful shake of her head.

“Mrs. Mitchell frightens you that much?” I asked. The secretary jerked her chin in a quick nod. I sighed, closing my eyes and rubbing at my temples. “If I hadn’t fallen asleep –” Did I? Or had I died as Ba’al said, then set into a copy of the world that I knew? “– I’d probably be done by now. Maybe. But I can’t just walk away at this moment and with what I’m doing I don’t need any help.”

“Nothing?” she squeaked, green eyes wide. “But – my sitter – she’s my niece – she’s been calling me every ten minutes asking when I’ll be home! I didn’t know I’d have to stay late tonight; she doesn’t understand how important this job is to me. And – and Clarice is the only one who’ll sit for Thérèse when she comes home from school.”

“If you need a few extra dollars to be her, I’ll give it to you,” I said, my patience beginning to thin.

“She has plans!” Miss Wade protested. “I had to promise her over and over that I would make it home in time tonight! If – if I don’t get home, she’ll never sit for me again! And then I’d have to choose Thérèse over this job! I’d have to quit and work somewhere else for less – with less – with less…” Her voice trailed off, her emerald eyes blinking at me, a different light growing in her wide orbs.

“Sir,” she began, her voice lower, sounding huskier. The hairs on the back of my neck rose. “Sir, perhaps I could – could encourage you to call it a night.”

“Just what are you saying?” My eyes narrowed warily. “If you are suggesting – after I pointed out that firing you due to your marital status and child would violate Equal Employment – Miss Wade…”

“Sir,” the redhead looked into my eyes, her emerald spheres steady, glittering, “Please. I have to leave. And I can’t until you leave. And if you won’t – I’ll – I’ll do what I need to convince you to go home.”

“Miss Wade…”

“What I need to,” she said, her voice steely. Did I dare? The redhead seemed willing for almost anything. I didn’t want to take advantage of her. I had always tried to comport myself properly towards women, my manners instilled by my strong-willed grandmother who had raised me despite being a bastard. In some ways, my grandmother was harder than Mrs. Mitchell. But – I had thoughts of Miss Wade before, even imagining an inter-office scenario a little similar to this.

“Well, Mr. Wilson?” The secretary lifted her hands to the neck of her white blouse, undoing the top button. My eyes nearly bulged. Desperation did odd things to people, but she was beginning to scare me. Worse, I began to think it was a test, perhaps a setup to send me away, get me out of the company.

“Well?” A second button popped free, the expanse of exposed skin on her chest growing. “What will it be?”

“Miss Wade – I-I,” I stammered. “This – you don’t have to do this.”

“Don’t I?” her green eyes flared, leaning forward, her hands on my desk. “I can’t afford not to.”

“Your daughter means that much to you?” I asked, wilting slightly at her forthright presence. Dammit! I’m stronger than this!

“She’s my world,” Miss Wade declared. “I’d do anything for her. Even – even if I have to do – what I’d promised I’d never to do again.”

Never do again? My eyebrows rose, gazing up into her steady emerald orbs.

“Would you – care to explain that?” I asked, an edge to my voice.

“It’s obvious, is it not?” the secretary spat harshly. “I slept with my boss at my last job and got pregnant because of the bastard. I was naïve and – he used me until he fired me so he could screw the next girl. I thought – he might have loved me until that. Even to leave his own wife, the lecher. And here I am again, caught between a rock and a hard place. So let’s get this over with. Now.”

My own anger was up over the situation. That was the sort of thing Ken did. Did I really want to be like him? Did I want to be the office sleaze? The evil eye I received from the office staff – was that because of Ken? Did they think I was like him? I closed my eyes, thinking. I am a better man than that. Than this.

“Go to your desk,” I growled.

“What?” Miss Wade cried in alarm, eyes flashing.

“Go to your desk,” I repeated. “Now.”

“Fine,” she snarled, spinning around and stomping out of my office, slamming the door closed behind her. I shook my head. An apology would be necessary later. Not now. I was off-kilter as well. I looked down over the files and reports laid out on my desk, calculating what needed to be done. Grabbing my notebook, I started taking notes.

Five minutes later, I closed the door to my office behind me, the latch clicking softly, barely discernible over the soft sobs coming from the cubicles. I took a breath, steeling myself. Miss Wade was going to be pissed after the – situation. I strode through the rows of cubicles to her small desk, a small lamp illuminating the back of her head, her face buried in her arms on the flat surface.

“Miss Wade,” I said softly. She sniffled, looking up at me, her emerald eyes red with tears. “Go home.”

I turned around, walking towards the stairs, not looking back. I would talk to her later, tomorrow, after I had a few words with Mrs. Mitchell.