I regretted it the moment I was huddled in the corner of a bathroom stall with tears streaking down my face. I looked pathetic; my mascara had run all down my face. The papers, I had meant to deliver, were scattered all over the floor.
Not only was I likely never to see her again, I just left her without a 'thank you' or my number to at least get in contact again; but I'd probably lose my job as well.
The papers were ruined, out of order and likely scattered along the floor as I had run here. Santana probably thought I was a freak, running off like that. I bet she was running around the building desperately searching for that man as I sat un-helpfully in a bathroom stall crying like a baby.
I wiped gingerly at my face, attempting to at least pull myself together. If I was going to face my boss, I had to at least look like I tried to make an effort to clean myself up.
With shaky unsure legs, I pulled myself up and walked slowly to the bathroom mirrors. I was right, I looked a mess. My hair was sticking up in all directions, my mascara was all down my face and I had bright bloodshot eyes.
Sighing, I walked calmly over to the tissue dispenser to grab a handful of the soft fabric. Running them under the water I then wiped down my face attempting to eliminate any traces of my run make-up.
When I was at least satisfied that I didn't look sad and pathetic, I turned gingerly to the mess of papers on the floor. My boss was so going to kill me.
I bent down and begun to pick up the pieces, dusting off and straightening them out until they were in a somewhat neat pile.
Wasting no more time I exited the bathroom with my head held high. There wasn't much point though because the corridors were deserted, but it still made me feel slightly better about the situation.
I was going to get fired, no doubt about that, at least I would do it with some dignity left.
As I approached the elevators and stairs, I exhaled in relief, I was on level 25. At least I wouldn't have to walk up that many steps.
Finally reaching my destination, I took the long corridor to the left till I stopped short at a door that read 'Mr Grayson' in big gold letters.
I hesitated in the doorway, maybe I wasn't so ready to get fired. I knew this was only a small temporary job until I could save enough money to own my own dance studio, but it was a job and I couldn't argue that it didn't pay well.
How would I afford my apartment and living costs, jobs aren't easy to find in a big city like New York.
As I took a deep breath, I silently prayed to myself that for some reason he wasn't behind that door. No luck. As I banged slightly on the door with my foot I heard a very loud and impatient man curse as he stomped on over to open it.
"What is it?" He asked.
When he caught sight of me my blood ran cold. I could see the tell tale signs of his stress and anger as he sighed to let me pass into the office. The vain on the side of his neck pulsed as he turned to quickly jog on over to his desk, gesturing to a cleared spot for me to place the papers down onto.
"Thank you Brittany, "He said while taking a seat behind his desk.
I nodded slowly while fidgeting with my hands. He clearly hadn't noticed anything wrong with the papers, but that wasn't to say that he wouldn't soon. Maybe I should have come clean, told him everything and been honest. He might have understood, but being the coward that I was, I simply smiled as he continued to observe me.
"What took you so long though, did you walk up here or something?" He asked while chuckling slightly.
I didn't see what was so funny about that, but I smiled politely and answered good naturedly.
"Actually, I did Sir, mostly anyway." I said.
He seemed to falter for a second contemplating my words with a confused stare, before he shrugged me off with a light chuckle.
"You're a funny one Brittany." He chuckled. I shrugged and smiled like I'd meant what I'd said as a joke, even though it wasn't. Maybe if I was on his good side he wouldn't punish me as bad. "But, not to sound rude or anything, but can you leave, this is extremely important so I need to crack on with it. No distractions."
I nodded and watched with baited breath as he picked up the first piece of paper on the stack. I didn't dare move too quickly like that would somehow hide his gaze from me. When he continued to read the paper in his hands with content, I quickly turned on my heel to make a hasty get away.
I thought that was it, I was home free. He hadn't said anything to me and he hadn't complained about the papers so I continued on as if nothing had happened.
Then I heard him, as I took shaky slow steps down the corridor, leading to the stairs, to my exit.
"Brittany Susan Pierce, get back into this office NOW!" He yelled.
I froze mid step as my mind raced. I could do it, run till I couldn't possibly run anymore, never look back, but that wasn't fair. He deserved an explanation and an apology. I didn't want to make the same mistake twice, especially in one day.
I deflated, letting my foot fall to the floor and turned on my heel to sulk back into his office. The door stood wide open as he paced backwards and forwards in front of his desk.
I stopped a good meter away from him, putting a good amount of distance between us in case I had to run. He wasn't fat or anything, he looked fit enough but if I had a good head start, there was no way he was catching me.
"What is this?" he finally asked gesturing to the stack of papers on his desk.
I didn't mean to be rude or condescending I just let the answer slip from my mouth without thinking.
"Papers," I mumbled.
He turned angrily to me and I jumped as the vein on his neck throbbed like I'd never seen it before. His face turned beet red with anger as he pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to calm himself.
"I know what they are Brittany," He hissed with a clenched jaw. "What an earth did you do to them?"
I could see that he was furious with me. One simple task, that's all he had asked of me. Wait for my colleagues to collect and print the data then deliver it to him in the order they presented it to me. Simple really when you think about it. Yet, here I was in a whole lot of trouble.
My mouth opened ready to defend myself but the words caught in my throat. My palms were sweating so much that I had to wipe them on the leg of my pants to dry them off. I knew I was stalling as I continued to open and close my mouth searching for the right words to say, to justify completely what I did.
"Well...?" He asked, impatiently tapping his foot.
"I…I" I stuttered horribly on my words trying to make myself seem more confident but I failed miserably. I just couldn't put what had happened into words.
Avoiding his eyes I gazed intently at his cream coloured carpet before I swallowed thickly clearing my throat.
I opened my mouth to begin when a voice behind me interrupted.
"Mr Grayson, I've been waiting since 5:00am this morning for that report of yours. It's now 11:00pm and I've lost all of my patience. Where is it?"
I whipped my head round to stare at the intruder as he stomped his way into my boss's office. I knew he must be important, with his expensive looking suit and the way my boss backed up from him with fear, but there was something else about him that I couldn't place. Where did I know him from?
I stepped slowly to the side of the room trying to desperately make myself invisible as I watched the scene unfold in front of me.
"Well…" Mr Grayson began in his small unsure voice, "I've been waiting for the facts and figures to come in all day, so I could finish it for you."
"And…" the other man snapped.
"Well, I've got them now," He answered before turning suddenly to glare in my direction "But there all muddled up now thanks to this imbecile."
I stood frozen, as both sets of eyes turned to glare in my direction. I had never felt so small and insignificant in my life.
"Well," The unknown man began, now addressing me. "What do you have to say for yourself Miss?"
He paused but my boss quickly interjected.
"Pierce," He said.
The more important man nodded his thanks before adding 'Pierce' to me.
I swallowed and looked desperately between the two angry looking important men in front of me. I felt like a drowning fish that had been plucked from the safety of water and placed in a glaring spotlight for everyone to witness them flail and drown.
"I… I Well." I paused inhaling lightly.
"It was my fault-"
What? I turned on my heel to watch Santana walk calmly into the room her hand raised to gesture to herself as she addressed the man in the more expensive suit.
That's when it clicked, that was Mr Adamson, the head of the whole corporation I worked for. As I'm only a small insignificant assistant I've never actually met the man before. I've heard his name whispered here and there and seen the odd picture, but I've never actually seen him in person before.
"Wait no," I quickly spat, finally finding my voice.
All eyes turned to me, including Santana's. I knew what she was doing; she was going to cover for me. I couldn't let her do that, not after everything she had already done for me. This was just too much.
"Just tell me what the hell happened and whose god damn fault it is!" Mr Adamson snapped, yelling to the room as we all stared at him.
I couldn't argue that this man scared the hell out of me. He was buff and tall, even with a head start he would easily catch me. Being this close to him, when he looked this angry made it impossible for my mouth and brain to co-operate.
"It was me; I tripped and banged into her. The papers went flying, I'm sorry." Santana answered.
I stared open mouthed at her as the words settled into my ears. Why was she doing this? I couldn't believe it; she was taking the wrap for me, but why? I wanted to reach out for her and hold her tight but I also wanted to shake desperately on her shoulders to shake some sense into her.
She avoided my eyes and kept her own intense ones locked onto Mr Adamson's. She didn't look remotely scared, that's what terrified me more. It was like she didn't even care.
"Fine, you're fired!" Mr Adamson declared before he marched quickly out of the room muttering nonsense under his breath like he hadn't just fired someone on the spot.
To be continued …