Author's Note: I haven't done this in a very long time. I have some ideas that are playing around in my head and I realistically just wanted to get them out and figured why the hell not share it with y'all. Feel free to comment, hate, do as you wish. I'm too old to care lol. The names of these characters are not mine but everything else is pretty much my brain. Everything is also alternative universe. Enjoy!
CHAPTER ONE
Anxiety—the only thing that made any sense as I rushed from one side of my small apartment to the other, hips banging off the edges of couches and one particularly deadly dresser near my bedroom door. Anxiety had that power over me. Sometimes I could ignore it and move about my day after a few deep breathes and maybe a Xanax if it was really bad, but not today. No one needed me walking in three shakes from being too high to function on my first day at a new job, and it wasn't like I was working at McDonalds or something where it was morally acceptable. I had to decide to finally grow up and do something that made more than minimum wage before I found myself out on my ass.
"Fuck!" I gripped my hip as it came into sharp focus against the bar, sending me skittering out of the way in attempt to stay on my feet. Lifting my shirt, I saw the early signs of a bruise among a sea of healing ones. People would assume I was getting beaten up at home. Well, they would if anyone actually saw me naked. I couldn't even remember the last time I had someone accidentally see me let alone the last time I fell into bed with someone. The truth of the matter was, I was short, odd shaped, and socially awkward. No one paid attention when I walked into a room. Not because I was inherently ugly but because I flew just under the radar, content to draw as little attention to myself as possible. That's how I'd always been, even as a child, and it only seemed to get worse the older I got.
Dropping my shirt, I reached for the kettle still sitting on the stove. I lifted the small lid before lifting it away to fill the mug sitting near the sink. It spilled on the counter but I didn't care. Time had slipped away from me already this morning. Spills were for people who weren't running late.
I chugged the scolding shot of Cuban coffee with a grimace and dropped the cup into the sink. I'd wash it along with everything else when I got home; another activity on an already endless list of things I needed to do when I got home.
With one last glance in the mirror by the door, I straightened my oxford. It wasn't fancy. If anything, it looked more second hand but it still looked nice on me. My hips didn't bulge out the sides and it hid the small pooch pouch I'd spent the last three years of college cultivating. For a lesbian, I had been gifted with hips meant to birth a sea of children that I didn't even want.
I grabbed my keys from the hook by the door, slung on my woolen coat, and jabbed my wireless headphones into my ear. It took them all the way to the elevator bank before they kicked on and connected a telltale sign that they were in fact, pieces of shit. Thankfully I could crank up the music before I got down to street level. There was always someone in the lobby or at the wall of mailboxes and the thought of talking to them was enough to make my head spin. Instead, I waved at the guy waiting on the elevator and rushed the door.
Outside, the sun was barely visible in the sky, leaving a heavy layer of gray fog on everything, and it was freezing. Frost clung to every available surface and made the steps down to the sidewalk more treacherous than I was willing to accept at 6 in the morning.
"Fuck me…" I groaned, my breathe hanging in a thick cloud of gray in front of my mouth before being swept away by the breeze that made my ears twinge. I hated winter. Winter was beautiful, sure, but winter was also the worst time of the year for almost everything other than hibernating inside and eating too much food.
My car was waiting for me in the parking lot, crusted with frost like every other car. I scrapped a nail across the layer on the windshield and crawled in. There was no way I was going to get the window scrapper out. Unless there was snow, I wasn't doing it. Instead, the defrost was cranked and I huddled in my seat resenting life.
I swung into the parking garage downtown 15 minutes later, wedging myself between a rather large truck and a compact, which my brain seemed to find funnier than most would have even thought about. Killing the engine, I sank back in the seat. I still had a few minutes to breathe before heading into the unknown. The last few years had been college, a part time job at McDonalds and a short internship on campus that did little but annoy me. I was a programmer. Not an IT specialist. Spending hours just restarting computers to make them work was not my idea of experience, but like most specialties, if you had no experience, you didn't get the job. There was always someone more prepared than you waiting in line.
The cold hit me all over again as I opened the car door, making me shrug into the collar of my coat as I headed towards the stairs. Each step only heightened my state of nervousness. By the time I pulled open the door to SolarWinds, I was suffocating. Granted, SolarWinds wasn't the most prestigious programming company. It wasn't Microsoft or Apple or Google, but it was definitely not McDonalds.
Inside, the lobby was brown with shining tile floors and towering ceilings. It was as if the walls themselves were made entirely of windows, letting in the blistering light of the sun. Towering paintings on the wall were adorned with the logo, harsh and white against their black backgrounds. It was imposing in the most laid back of ways—a representation of a company that wanted to be taken seriously but was notorious for wearing jeans under their lab coats.
I tried my best to be more secretive with my thorough inspection of the lobby, unwilling to allow the steady trickle of people crossing the room in route to their respective destination. It was then, as I looked down that the pair of receptionists sitting behind a semi-circular desk, that I had no idea where I was going.
"Um, good morning," I started, tightening my grip on my backpack strap. The nearest woman looked up, pristine in a way one would expect at a high class hotel. She didn't look like she belonged there.
"Good morning. How can I help you?" Her voice was unnaturally high, and I had to work hard not to flinch.
"I am looking for Lauren Lewis's office. Could you point me in the right direction?"
"Absolutely. Could you sign in here?" She slid the clipboard towards me with one hand and fished for a pen with the other. "I'll get you a visitor's pass."
"I am her new assistant," I added, signing my name on the first available line. My signature was sloppy.
"Oh, are you Bo Dennis?"
"Yes ma'am."
"I was warned you'd be in." She flipped over a few folders in pursuit of something, her frantic movements making me nervous. "Oh, here we go."
I gripped the folder she passed over to me, flipping back the cover to find the standard paperwork that came with all employment.
"For today, you'll need to keep this badge on you. Someone will get a picture later for your formal badge so you can get around." She slid a crinkled badge with 'VISITOR' written in bold white text next to the SolarWinds logo. "You're going to take all of that upstairs to the third floor. Ms. Lewis's office is on the right at the very end. Name is on the door."
I nodded, eyeing the elevators before smiling at the woman in front of me. "Thank you. I can take those elevators up right?"
"Yes ma'am. Just take a right when you get off on the third floor. You shouldn't have any trouble finding it."
With one final nod, I hurried off to wait for the elevators next to a rather tall man in dark khakis and a blue polo. He was looking down at his phone with an intensity that I had never seen on one person's face before. He jabbed the up button a few more time with his idle hand and aggressively scrolled with the other.
I didn't want to get on the elevator with this man, but it was too late to contemplate leaving because the door was dinging and we were stepping in. I would much rather take my chances in the elevator with this obviously angry man than be late. Despite my hesitancy, he never even looked up from his phone let alone acknowledged my existence.
The elevator dinged as it shuddered to a stop. After a few seconds, the doors slid open and the still agitated man fled to the left. With one last passing glance, I watched him round a corner out of sight before heading towards the right as instructed. The floor was quiet except one loud laugh that came from behind a heavy wooden door as I passed. It was the first real sign of life, which surprisingly calmed my anxious stomach.
I stopped at the corner, the smoked glass name plate on the wall next to the door said 'Lauren Lewis: Director of People and Transformation'. When I went in for the interview, I hadn't met Lauren. I knew nothing about her other than she was good at her job and she was the one person who had an opening for someone as low on the totem pole as myself.
Reaching up, I knocked on the door.
"Come in."
The voice was tenor and confident but distinctively female. Some part of me wanted to turn away, to just get back on the elevator and avoid the situation entirely, but I grasped the handle either way and pushed the door ajar.
Lauren's office was larger than I thought it would be and flooded with light from the expanse of windows making up every exterior wall. The carpet was dark grey with an abstract orange pattern zig-zagging its way across the floor. I found it distracting, but nothing was distracting enough once my eyes found the woman sitting at the desk.
The crisp white shirt she had on was tailored like a glove and unbuttoned low enough to show off the corded necklace around her neck and a valley of cleavage. I found myself biting the inside of my cheek as my eyes contoured her neck and her jaw, the shining stud earrings and her dirty blonde hair that fell onto her shoulders. Then there were her eyes, a striking grey-blue that made my stomach clench. At first, I wondered if I was in the wrong place—the way she stared right into me, but then she smiled in a way that edged close to cocky.
It suited her.
"Good morning. How can I help you?" She planted her hands on the desk and stood.
I gulped, struggling to keep my eyes on her face yet avoid her eyes. She was making me question by self-control. Who was this person I had morphed into in a few minimal seconds? Months could be gone through without my vagina deciding that it wanted something. Now it was so awake standing was uncomfortable.
"Good morning." I smiled, feeling my neck flush. "Um, my name is Bo Dennis."
"Ah, Dennis." She stood up straighter, her shoulders relaxing substantially. "I've been looking forward to meeting you. I've been flying solo here for a few months since they created this position. They said you were the best candidate."
"Well, I don't know about that but I'm at least pretty useful." I shrugged.
She tipped her head, hair spilling back away from her long neck. I could see the way the muscles corded there at her clavicle, and quickly averted my eyes. Lauren was beautiful. There was no denying that fact.
"We will definitely borrow that usefulness." With another smile, she pushed back her chair and turned towards the small cluster of filing cabinets along the one solid wall. "They said you have a degree in IT?"
"Uh…" My eyes dropped to her ass and legs, a gift from the gym gods and wrapped in navy blue chinos that exposed just a sliver of tanned skin making up her ankles. "Y-yes ma'am, I have a degree in IT."
'Who gave you the right to look that damn good in those pants? Fuck…' I shook my head in attempt to clear away my thoughts. The last thing I needed was to get fired for sexual harassment against someone who very obviously a part of the HR department. Sure, I had seen my fair share of beautiful women and men even, but never did I find myself struggling to hold a simple conversation. What made this woman so different?
"Great! Are you hoping to make this a career advancement?" She glanced over her shoulder, the sun catching her eyes and stealing my breath in one fail swoop.
All I could do was nod, eyes dropping to scan her desk, to look at anything other than Lauren. "I would love to be able to advance in the company."
"That's what we want to hear." She straightened up with a folder in her hand. "Did they give you a packet down at reception?"
I raised the folder in my own sweaty hand. "Yes ma'am."
"First rule, don't call me ma'am. I'm not in the military anymore and I don't wanna hear it." She sounded stern but somehow relaxed at the same time, the voice of a person who knew what they wanted and how to get it without being an asshole.
"I'll do my best."
"That's all I can ask." She passed me the folder and then indicated the desk tucked away in the corner. "That's going to be your desk. Feel free to do with it as you please. I'm pretty flexible as long as you're not a mess."
"That won't be a problem ma'am." I thought back to the sink full of dishes and the pile of unfolded clothes on the couch and the basket of unwashed clothes in front of the washer. I was messy. I was so unbelievably messy.
"Great. I'll let you get started on that paperwork so I can get it in where it needs to go and then we can go on a tour. I'm assuming they didn't give you one of those in the interview?" She dropped the folder gently on the desk with one hand and flicked her hair off her neck with the other. The hint of a tattoo crept out from under the cuff of her long-sleeves. Curiosity made me yearn to push up those sleeves, but instead, I grasped my hands safely behind my back.
As I sank down at the desk, the reality of a mistake made began to settle into my bones. I had wanted to come into work, do my job, and then go home only to repeat again the next morning. Staring at my boss was not on the list of activities I could or would plan on doing in my day. It was one thing to quit a job but a completely different thing to be fired.
I glanced one last time towards Lauren's desk only to find that she was looking intently down at her phone, both hands clutching the device. My stomach did an uncomfortable somersault.
'I'm in so much fucking trouble…'
TBC