That moment was undoubtedly the most cringe-worthy and uncomfortable experience she had ever endured. From that day forward, she made a firm promise to herself to never lie to anyone, especially someone with an uncanny ability to sniff out deception.
She swiftly retreated from the dance floor, feeling mortified, and made her way towards Mr. Fred. With a feeble and defenseless expression, she mustered up the courage to apologize and pleaded, "Sir, may I please leave now?"
But Mr. Fred, showcasing his undeniable sweet tooth, insisted, "Wait, just one more hour! We haven't even tasted the ice cream cake yet, remember?" Despite his love for sweets, he was by no means deaf to his employees.
"Sir, please," Lydia responded, outwardly calm but clearly unhappy. Mr. Fred was quick to notice her discontent.
"Alright... but be careful on your way home," he acquiesced, granting her permission to leave.
Nodding silently, Lydia hurriedly left. Outside, the atmosphere was far from tranquil; instead, it was chilled to the bone. She hailed a taxi a fair distance from the grand mansion and headed home, her heart heavy with shame.
Although her apartment wasn't too far away, it felt like an eternity to reach. Upon arriving, Lydia carelessly dropped her bag on the nearby sofa.
"Foolish!" she whispered to herself, removing the gown she had been wearing. "How could one of my brilliant plans fail? And to add insult to injury, I embarrassed myself so terribly... What is wrong with me?"
The unsightly gown lay on the bed, abandoned and forlorn, waiting for someone to give it a second thought. Lydia stared at it, taking a deep breath, before collapsing onto the fabric. It served no purpose now.
"Will I ever be able to face him again? Can I?"
Today truly wasn't her day. Weakness had overtaken her, keeping her pinned to the bed until morning, along with the heavy weight of shame. However, she set an alarm, just in case.
***
The incessant ringing of her phone tore through her drowsiness. Glancing at the clock, the numbers glared back at her: 10:24 am.
She buried her head in the pillow, attempting to resume her slumber. But her brain, along with her subconscious, relentlessly reminded her:
Yesterday was Monday...
Today is Tuesday...
My phone has been ringing non-stop...
My new job starts today...
It's 10:24 am...
IT'S 10:24!
"WHAT!" she screamed, jolting awake and tumbling off the bed. The sleep instantly evaporated, leaving only one thought echoing in her mind: "Late."
Over and over again.
"This is bad!" she exclaimed, rushing to the shower, feeling a sense of déjà vu. In the blink of an eye, she darted outside. Her phone rang once more, revealing a slew of missed calls.
"Fifty missed calls!" she gasped, narrowly avoiding being hit by a passing truck when she noticed that they were all from Mr. Fred.
"Hello, sir," she greeted, her voice trembling.
"Do you know the time? You're almost two hours late!" he bellowed, his frustration palpable. And she could not deny that it was entirely her fault.
"I'm already on my way to work!" she assured him, hoping to pacify him.
"We don't work there anymore, and it's not even in that location," Mr. Fred's tone softened as he explained the situation.
"We don't?"
"No! Where was your mind last night during the gathering?... I'll send you the new location. Please hurry," he concluded the call, and within minutes, she received the message.
"That's so far away!" she muttered to herself, rushing to hail another taxi and directing it to her new destination.
"I need to arrive before eleven, or I could kiss my job goodbye forever!"
The taxi raced with fervor, but soon found itself entangled in morning traffic.
"Damn it!" she exclaimed, trying to calm herself, albeit unsuccessfully.
The traffic only grew worse, until the entire road became a sea of congestion.
Resting her head against the headrest, she sent repeated messages to Mr. Fred, desperately informing him about the traffic that held her hostage on the road. But the man showed no tolerance for excuses.
***
As the late afternoon cast a dreary cloud over her day, she quickly withdrew her hands from the door. "Maybe I should just go home," she mused inwardly, her eyes welling up with tears that threatened to spill uncontrollably. It was her first day of work, and she had managed to make the worst possible impression—arriving when everyone else was ready to leave.
Taking a step back, she distanced herself from the building. "This must be a dream!" she thought, shutting her eyes tightly. But then, she heard her name being called, slowly and sharply.
"Lydia."
It was Mr. Fred. He studied her for a few seconds, recognizing her desolation. Walking toward her, he offered a warm smile.
"Sir, I'm terribly late, something is definitely wrong," she lamented.
"I understand, but despite that, I suggest you go inside and perhaps offer some assistance that could be helpful in the current moment. Don't worry, the CEO isn't around," he spoke with a paternal touch, filling her heart with warmth.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Fred."
"So, let's go in," he said, reaching out to touch the door...
BEEP!
BEEP!
BEEP!
"What's that noise?" she asked, her eyes darting around in confusion.
But it persisted...
BEEP!
BEEP!
BEEP!
Suddenly, Lydia's eyes opened, and she found herself in her bed, with the alarm clock blaring incessantly.
"It was all a dream, it felt so real... Just a dream."