"Okay," he concedes and I breathe a sigh of relief. "Say I believe you and that's the reason you're here early. Now, what's your reason for being in my office? Are you looking for something to steal?"
My face is no longer pale with this remark. I become heated at the accusation. Who does he think he is to go about making these random accusations about people he doesn't know.
"I would never do such a thing," I protest, trying to wrench myself out of his arms but he is holding onto me too tightly. I cannot budge. "Will you let me go?"
"Not until you tell me what you're doing in my office."
I decide to go with a version of the truth. "I- I picked up a letter at the front desk that arrived for you. I was simply dropping it off."
He glances up and down my person. "I don't see a dress unless you're telling me it's hidden in that dress you're wearing in which event I'll oblige you to retrieve it."
"You-why you," I stammer out.
"The letter Miss Emmy or will I have to search you for it?"
"You- you wouldn't dare!" I exclaim in astonishment.
"Watch me."
His hands went to the top button of my dress and I wench myself away from him with such force the top button flew off. I clench the two flaps close.
The V of the dress hadn't shown any cleavage given my breasts were small but now with the button gone, the lace black bra I have on underneath is visible.
"This is sexual harassment!" I declare in outrage.
"No Emmy. You end up in my office at an ungodly hour claiming to have a letter for me which I see no evidence of."
"Because it's on your bloody desk," I respond, very annoyed at the way he is treating me when he knows nothing about me.
He turns slightly and looks at the desk where the letter is lying. He looks back at me with a scowl. "Why the hell didn't you just say so?"
"How could I get in a word when you were so busy accusing me of being a thief."
"Well, you have yourself to blame. Now, excuse yourself while I get dressed. You've wasted enough of my time."
"I've wasted…" I trail off, regarding the man as though he is mad. Did I hear correctly that he thinks I wasted his time?
The insufferable jerk. Of all the rude, obnoxious men I've ever met in all my life, he has got to be the worst.
I don't bother to grace him with a response, knowing I will have the last laugh anyway when he reads the letter on his desk and realize it is my resignation letter.
Now I am grateful I came in early this morning. If I had harboured any doubt I was doing the right thing earlier, it is all gone now.
No way I am going to continue working with this new psychotic boss. Who cares that he has the body of a Greek god? He had the mannerism of a pig. No, that is an insult to pigs everywhere! He is the worst.
Without a word, I walk out of the office, barely able to prevent myself from slamming the door shut behind me. I get to my desk and opened the drawers, checking one final time if I am leaving anything behind.
Ah, the coffee mug that I use to get coffee from the break room instead of using the Styrofoam cups they keep for staff. Much healthier for the environment than using a Styrofoam cup once every day.
Even I who am not a big environmentalist know that is just too much.
Yuck! I'd been so upset yesterday, I forgot to wash my cup out. I grab the box with my stuff and take the elevator to the second floor where the lunch break is.
I wash out my cup and dries it before placing it inside the box and resume my trek in the elevator to the first floor.
The security guard is on the phone talking when I step out of the elevator. Before I could leave the building, he hangs up the phone and comes to stand in front of me, blocking my way. I frown at him, wondering why he is trying to prevent me from leaving.
"Is something wrong?" I ask him.
"Actually there is," he answers, gesturing to the box in my hands. "I'm afraid I'll have to check the items in that box."
"These are my personal items," I reply. "Why do you need to check them?"
"Security reasons ma'am. You entered the building with a letter and you're walking out with a box. I've to ensure nothing of value to the company is leaving with you."
By this, I am very upset. This is the second person in a matter of minutes who is trying to make me feel like I'm a thief. I plunk the box down at his desk.
"Be my guest. As I said before, these are just my personal effects."
I watch him go through my box, thinking he would shuffle the things around and confirm that indeed the items are not so much valuable as they are sentimental.
Instead, I stare in disbelief as he slowly goes through the items one by one, inspecting it as though he believes I've hidden drugs somewhere in the bottom of a pen.
"This is ridiculous," I explode, reaching for each item and dumping them back into the box. "You can see nothing in here belongs to James Publishing. Now Miss, have a good day!"
I wrench the box out of his hands and made for the door again. He hurries by me to block the interest. This is not right. What the heck is this man doing? Is he trying to deliberately keep me in his office?
"Why are you trying to keep me here?" I snap at him and he flushes.
"I-umm," he couldn't form an articulate response.
He tugs on his ear. Definitely a tell. I remember the phone call then and instantly figure out what was going on. That was him on the phone trying to get the security guard to keep me in the building.
Without thinking, I jam the box in the security guard's stomach, to get him out my way. I did it out of panic because I know if he should catch me down here, he will make it more difficult than it already is for me to leave.
"Emmy. My office. Now."
I groan at the voice behind me. I glare at the security guard who has a chagrined, apologetic look on his face. As if that is going to help my situation now.
"The letter will explain everything," I respond, squaring my shoulders for courage before I turn to face Mr. James.
He is furious, the muscles in his jaw ticking. He waves the letter before my face. "This explains nothing."
"It's my resignation letter," I explain though if he had read it which I am sure he had, then he would already know this. "Effective immediately. Now goodbye Mr. James. I wish you all the best in your venture."
The security guard is no longer blocking my way and I push against the door, glimpsing my freedom.
"Emmy, aren't you forgetting something."
To the best of my knowledge, no but the mocking tone of his voice makes my skin crawl. I am forgetting something. What is it and why does he know of it when I can't remember what it is?"
"Your contract."
My contract?
"You still work for me and you cannot be released from your contract without my approval," he adds. "You might want to step into my office and beg for my approval."
Beg? Over my dead body. But he is right. I am so stupid. How could I have forgotten about that contract? I have ten months left in my current contract, having signed a new one this January.
Sweet Mother of Jesus, there's no way I could last ten months with this man.
When I turn to face him once more, he is already at the elevator, holding the doors open. "Coming?"
Like I have a choice. I walk towards him but not before casting a longing look at the door which holds my freedom. We ride the elevator in silence, I huddled back in the corner, remembering the last time we took the lift together.
On the third floor, he walks out taking it for granted I'll follow him but then he knows he has me cornered.
Somehow I have to let him see we are not a good fit as employer and employee, worse when I would have to work so closely with him as his Personal Assistant.
That position requires having a certain rhythm and good working chemistry. All this tension between us would never...
Make for a good working relationship.