Chapter XXXVI

I've Got a War in My Mind

Been trying hard not to get into trouble, but I

I've got a war in my mind…

- "Ride" by Lana Del Rey.

Monday had been a fun day, because Holly had done the deed. She'd gone over her boss's head.

It had been a long weekend, full of mother-daughter bonding shopping trips which had drained the energy from her in a way that no other activity could. Friday through Sunday, she and Michael had been given maybe a few hours together before her dad had broken out the board games or her mom had found more Kohl's Cash — which must be used today, and that sounded like an exaggeration. It was as if they were doing everything in their power to keep her and Michael from looking at apartments.

In fact, she had a feeling that was exactly what they were doing. And they were good at it.

But between her mother's nagging and Michael's affirmations in her head, come Monday morning, Holly was convinced. So she came in to work early, typed up a formal, strongly-worded email to her superior's superior, and hit "send" before she could change her mind. Then she texted Michael, celebrating her victory.

Now that Tuesday had come, however, she wasn't feeling as victorious.

No one seemed to behave any differently toward her, negatively or positively, so Holly assumed that the email either hadn't been read yet, or hadn't been shared yet. Either way, she was strung up with nerves, and could barely get her work done without checking down the hall, to see if Bill would stop by. Surely, once he heard she'd rolled over on him, he'd rage…

"Hey, uh, Holly?"

The voice drew her out of her anxious thoughts, and she looked up at Colin Moore, who stood a few feet away with a stack of paper in his hands. She smiled briefly. "Hi, Colin. What do you need?"

He half-smiled, though his eyes spelled danger. "This morning, Bill asked me to give these to you," he said as he handed her the papers. She glanced over them, noticing an extensive amount and variety of data related to inflated phone time. "He wants you to type them up in one document before sending them out to corporate."

Holly frowned, looking up at him. "Why didn't he just email me this?"

"He said he wanted you to do it this way," Colin explained thinly — and even his expression said that he saw through this excuse. "'Less copying-and-pasting, more creativity.' That's all he told me."

"That's-" she started, but stopped herself quickly. She'd already done all she needed to do; complaining would only make things worse. She sighed. "All right. Thank you."

"Sure thing," he said. He hesitated to walk away then, as she could see through her peripheral vision. Instinctively, she tugged her shirt collar up, and paid him no mind.

"And… one more thing?"

She looked up again. "Yes?"

Colin squinted uncomfortable, averting his eyes for a moment as he muttered, "I, uh, think you should eat out today."

Instantly, she knew what he meant, and she sighed again. "Good idea," she mumbled as she leaned onto her elbow. "Thank you… for the advice."

"No problem," he said over his shoulder, and headed toward the hallway.

Once he was out of view, Holly let her shoulders sink down around her, frustration aching at her temples. Of course, Bill couldn't have emailed her a PDF — instead, he wanted her to spend this afternoon on something unnecessary, probably during some impromptu and very important meeting which he would love to hold without H.R.

And what had they put in her lunch this time? She was genuinely curious as to what they could do after hot sauce in her peanut butter and jelly and mustard in her pasta. Had they sprung for non-edible items?

She wasn't even going to pack anything tomorrow, if it had a one-in-three chance of being violated.

"-you look over these for the end-of-week-"

"In a minute. Excuse me."

Holly's hands froze on the keyboard at the sound of Bill's voice in the hallway, and growing louder. Her heart stopped.

"Bill?"

"Not right now," he insisted as he came even closer to the end of the hallway.

Instantly, Holly clicked open a new document and grabbed a metal clip, pinning the first page of the data to her screen, trying to pretend that she was one-hundred percent on this task because it was one-hundred percent important…

Then footsteps skidded at the end of the hallway, and Holly's shoulders tensed. She made a point of refusing to look up, forcing him to address her.

"Flax," Bill said, in a low, shiver-inducing tone. Still, Holly didn't lift her head.

"Can I help you?" she asked routinely. Then she began typing in hopes of deterring him from asking for anything.

"Come see me in my office. Now."

Hearing this, Holly's eyebrows shot up, and she stopped typing. Slowly, she raised her eyes toward the man — and he sent her one dark, brown-eyed look of distaste before turning back into the hallway.

The few of her coworkers who hadn't gone to lunch either hadn't noticed this scene, or had the decency to pretend they didn't.

Holly had a feeling that her email had gotten back to him.

As hesitant as she was to even move from her desk, she knew it would not be wise to keep him waiting, nor would she gain any courage just sitting here. And that was a shame, because she was really anxious now.

She forced herself to her feet, appearing calm as she unpinned the paper from her desktop and closed out her document, in case she left early today. Her hands lingered on the desk, the instinct strong to stay, but she went on anyway, headfirst into the hallway. All the while, she ran through the reasons in her mind, one by one, like a list.

- I'm a good H.R. worker and should be respected as the check and balance for management.

- I'm the only woman in the office and a protected class; I could sue for discrimination and sexual harassment six times over by now.

- I can't say that. I'm not actually going to sue anybody.

- I mean, I could…

- I'm spending way too much time with Mom.

Making a list wasn't going so well.

She passed the break room on her way to Bill's office, and through the doorway, she caught the eye of many of the men congregated there — including Colin, who looked confused, and David, way in the back of the room, with a smug expression on his face. Holly tried not to roll her eyes until she was out of eye-range.

And then, to her great displeasure, she'd arrived at the open door of her boss's office. She could already see a knee bouncing angrily under the desk inside. Her stomach did a flip.

She wasn't afraid of being fired in this moment, although that might have been a very real fear. She wasn't even afraid of being shot down or having her opinions shoved in a little box and tossed into the trash bins outside. But she'd heard stories about Bill's temper, and she was not about to stand in front of all her coworkers while her boss yelled at her. She would quit, right then and there.

"Come in, please."

Holly hadn't recognized how long she'd been standing away from the door, but obviously, Bill had noticed. She took a deep breath and made the full step toward the door, through the door — into the office.

Bill, seated angrily in his nice chair, one hand repeatedly turning a pen upside-down, clicking it, and turning it upside-down again, and clicking it. He said nothing yet, except to nod at the door, signaling her to shut it. But with no words, he had no trouble displaying how furious he was.

Once the door had latched, Holly had barely turned around before Bill muttered, "Take a seat."

Holly found the farthest seat from his desk and took a seat. She pursed her lips to keep from saying anything.

But Bill had evidently elected not to speak first, as he leaned back in his chair and studied her silently, turning from side to side, just a few inches back and forth… clicking and unclicking and clicking and unclicking his pen. Still, she did not speak.

As she looked around, she didn't find the usual reflection of Google Pac-man on the window behind him — instead, a white page with tiny words, which, as she squinted more, looked a lot like her email.

She swallowed, but still, did not speak.

When a full minute at the least had passed, Bill seemed surprised to remain in silence, and finally asked, "You're not curious about why I asked you in here?"

"I am," Holly said calmly, without probing him for more.

"You probably already know," Bill said, shrugging his shoulders.

"I can't think of anything I've done incorrectly," Holly specified. She could play this game, too.

At that, Bill hesitated for a moment, before letting out a belabored sigh. He lowered his head. "Holly," he said, using her first name for a change, "you've had a lot of feelings that you've shared with me, and really, I've been trying to listen and to take them to heart."

She bit her tongue hard.

"But to go behind my back?" Bill continued incredulously. "Really? Is that the kind of work environment you want us to have here, Holly? Where we go behind each other's backs and tattle at corporate instead of working out our issues like adults?"

"I think-"

"Because that's certainly not what I want," he went on, now using his hands quite expressively. "I mean, I want this office to be full of people who treat each other with respect. I think that's what you want, too."

Holly's shoulders tensed, but she nodded. "I do want that… and I think that following the rules of the workplace would be a great step in that direction."

"Rules are rules," Bill dismissed. "They're building blocks, yes, but without unity, the whole thing falls apart. It's like when I play Legos with my son, right? You can put a lot of different blocks with different shapes and colors together and make a tower, but it works a lot better when they're all from the same set."

Her eyebrows shot up with such speed that she hadn't even felt it — and then furrowed. "Different sets," Holly echoed, nodding slowly. "Am I supposed to take that the way it sounds?"

Bill's eyes widened. "How did it sound? Oh, no, no, no, no. I'm not- I'm not sexist, okay? Let me get that right off the bat," he clarified with wide hand gestures. "I am very respectful of women. My mother is one of my greatest role models, and my wife… Women are great. I'm not talking about women."

Holly bit back a lot of words and also her lip.

"I'm just saying," he tried to continue, "that we have something here that works, and it seems like, if you're finding it this hard to fit in, maybe this isn't the place for you."

"But it doesn't work," Holly argued as gently as possible. "There are rules being broken left and right, protocol ignored and time wasted and money lost where it doesn't need to be lost. And, have you noticed that every single one of your female employees that you've hired in the last three quarters have quit within the month? I mean, this is a hostile work environment..."

"Come on, hey. Let's not make this about gender."

"… whether it's intended or not. Bill," she said without stopping for him. "I was justified in what I wrote in that email. I have been treated poorly and without even an ounce of respect since I was hired. I haven't been allowed to do my job as a representative of the Department of Human Resources, which is a fundamental part of keeping a healthy work environment. You can't tell me this is healthy."

"I think you have a different perspective than I do," Bill interrupted, head tilted in subtle disagreement. "I mean, you come from a different part of the country, and a very different kind of company than your last workplace. People here aren't as… personally tied to their work, you could say. We check our emotions at the door, and we do what we're supposed to do."

Holly's jaw dropped, and she straightened up. "Let me be clear when I say, this is not a matter of my emotions."

"You seem a bit fired up to me," Bill argued flippantly.

"I am... upset, but-"

"So maybe we take a step back, reevaluate, and come back to this another day," he finished, rising up from his chair. "You don't bother corporate again, and I keep my eyes open over the next little bit, and if I find that you're right-"

"We've been reevaluating for weeks now," she cut him off, standing up. "I sent that email because I'm at the end of my rope. If nothing changes-"

"Then quit, Holly."

Her sentenced caught in her throat, as Bill stared her down. Her eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"If you're gonna keep creating conflict and destroying my office, you can just pack your things," Bill offered. "I don't have the time or energy for drama, so if it's causing you this much heartache, do yourself the favor and just... give your notice."

As surprising as that statement was, she did find herself both infuriated and very, very tempted to take him up on it. She was tired of the lack of respect and the stress and all the people here, with their disgusting work ethic and their staring and their hot sauce, and…

But to have gone through all this, not to sue and not to get her reports to anyone, and not even to receive severance, was just despicable.

"No," Holly said, after great consideration. "No, thank you. I won't quit. If you want me gone, you're going to have to fire me."

That was apparently the last thing he'd been expecting, as Bill's expression fell, and that anger slowly returned. "Wow," he said, sounding genuinely amazed. "You're really gonna keep at this?"

"Yes, I am," Holly said firmly.

"Because if you think something's going to change," Bill continued, "I don't foresee that happening. I won't be giving any more talks."

"I'm sure you won't."

He raised an eyebrow. "And I don't think anyone would side with you in a legal conflict - no one here, at least."

Holly pressed her lips into a polite smile. "I'm sure they won't."

Bill did not have much to say to that, his jaw stiff, his hand empty with the pen clicking and unclicking through his fingertips, his eyes staring through her skull. The pause was long and uncomfortable, and maybe that was his intention — but she did not say a word. She didn't even ask to be dismissed.

Finally, he glanced at the door behind her and mumbled, "You can leave."

Holly turned away, glad to let herself out of the lions' den.

She was feeling particularly proud of herself, walking in victory out of her boss's office and shutting the door behind her a bit loudly — and she was startled to find that David, and Colin, and even Chest-Ogling Rhett stood outside with a few others she barely recognized, all of which had likely come out of lunch to realize she was getting railed by the boss. They were all gathered around one desk, blatantly watching her as she exited with the most rapt attention, and a hint of humor on their faces. Holly pretended not to notice them as she walked back toward the hallway, headed for her cube all the way at the back.

She could almost feel their collective wondering, of whether or not she was fired. She would let them wonder for a while during her lunch break.

By the time she'd reached her desk, the shock of the whole thing was beginning to wear off, as she realized just what she'd said and just what she'd done. That was so unlike her. She was one to keep the peace, and certainly not to rock the boat, and certainly certainly not with a superior, and certainly certainly certainly not when she was on the brink of losing her job, and possibly their ability to find an apartment, all in one fell swoop.

But she'd stood up for herself, despite the gamble.

Now, and she wasn't sure why, Holly really wanted to hole up somewhere and cry.

So she grabbed her purse and her phone and left her desk just as it was, and even though it would be a longer walk to her car, she went for the stairs instead of the elevator. She avoided all stares from her coworkers and quickly through the door open, letting herself be shut in the stairwell, alone.

Then she covered her face with her hands and inhaled deeply, and leaned back against the wall of the stairwell. With a lump in her throat and a tremble in her fingers, she already knew what was coming.

She just tried to keep the tears to a minimum.

After a few minutes of detoxing the anxiety, she sniffed, and uncovered her face, pulling the hair out of her eyes before letting out a bit, long sigh. She didn't know if it was embarrassment or nerves or nearly losing her job or Bill's familiar way of reducing her to an emotional child which caused her such a strong reaction, but she felt completely drained, so that she didn't even want to go get lunch in front of people.

Without thinking, and without having to look, Holly hit speed-dial number one and brought it up to her ear.

It rang for a little while — in the meantime, she took those first few steps away from her floor, in case anyone would hear. She didn't mean to bother him during his lunch, but she really needed to hear his voice right now.

"Hola?"

Instantly, she stopped walking, inhaling deeply. "Hey, honey."

"Excusa me? No habla ingles. Espanol, por favor."

Holly half-smiled, but whispered into the phone, "Ingles, por favor. I just stood up to my boss."

Michael took a breath, as if to continue with his Hispanic conversation, but stopped.

She started back down the stairs with a sniff. "Michael?"

"Congratulations," he replied with a delay, though he didn't sound too excited. "What did he say? Are you okay? Did he fire you?"

"He didn't fire me."

"Are you okay?"

Holly almost said "yes," but her breath caught. She lingered at the last few steps on the ground floor, sniffing again.

"It was really hard," she admitted, voice hitching. "But I think I'm okay."

The line was silent for a long few seconds, but Michael's voice was smiling as he replied, "I knew you could do it, honey. I'm so proud of you."

She grinned, and sniffed. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Or as the Spanish say, 'Te amo, mi corazon.'"

Her grin widened, and she whispered back, "Te amo."

"Language of love," Michael said happily.

Holly chuckled. "That's French."

"Well, there's five, so I'm sure Spanish is one of them."

Thanks for the continued reviews and support. I forgot how fckn long this story was...