6. Love Ballad, continued


AN: Thank you for reviewing the last installment of Love Ballad.


Then, Part VI

Michonne

Later that night...

It was dad's poker night, which meant mom and I were on our own for dinner twice a month. I had just finished setting the table when I heard the garage door open. It was my cue to put the salmon in the oven and start the rice and veggies.

Moments later, I heard the keys in the door, and she entered the laundry room and the kitchen. "Hi, sweetheart. How was your day?" she asked as she watched me bustle about the kitchen.

"I had a good day. How 'bout you?"

My mother was about as transparent as clinging wrap because all she wanted to know was what went down after leaving the house this morning. I could only imagine the torture she must have endured not knowing. I was willing to bet good money that she called Jackie to get the scoop. It was clear that my mother was compromised. Her bias lay elsewhere, but somehow I'm sure she rationalized her love for me, and my happiness made it okay.

"It's been a day," she replied. "I'll get cleaned up for supper," she added, kissing my cheek and promptly leaving the kitchen on a mission.

That night, we dined in silence for the most part, which was unusual because mom had a gift for small talk, me not so much unless, of course, Sasha and Aaron were nearby.

"Mom, is the food not to your liking?" I asked because the tines of her folk teased the veggies on her plate. She was clearly distracted.

"Of course, it is, dear. It's delicious. I apologize — you caught me."

"You're never this shy, Mom; why don't you just ask?"

"Well, since you brought it up, how did it go this morning?"

...

Friday, two days later...

I woke up early, showered and dressed. Today was the day I would face the music. Sash called the day before to set up the appointment. I didn't know what to make of it. Hell, she didn't know herself. The lack of chatter worried me, but I had a get-out-of-jail-free card. They needed me. I didn't need to work while I attended school. My parents bought me a condo which was due to be ready two months before classes started. And living at home allowed me to save the money I made over the past two and a half years. If they insisted on paying for my lodging, I would be self-sufficient for my books and everyday expenses. My father balked at the idea, but in the end, he caved. I was good; moving to Montreal was strictly for studying and partying whenever Sash and Aaron would make it down for the weekend, which I highly suspected would be frequent given the nightlife there was popping compared to here.

As usual, I arrived at the office early to get the lay of the land, but when i arrived at my workstation, it was spotless. There wasn't a shred of evidence that I worked there for a week. The secure cabinet in which I stored my corporate work was also gone. I also noticed Noah's workspace was also empty. What the hell happened in three days? The fact my crew didn't know anything was highly suspect. Instantly, I felt a pang of guilt for not responding to Noah's texts. Was he still employed with the firm, or did the jackass find a way to get rid of him?

I felt the anger swell within me, but it mattered less now since it appeared I was returning to my fishbowl on high.

...

Ordinarily, Philip's day usually starts around eight-thirtyish. Today, however, he had me booked for an eight o'clock appointment. I had ten minutes to spare, so I ran to the elevators and went directly to the twelfth floor.

The moment I stepped off the elevator, I exhaled. I was home. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to breathe and listen, but all I could hear was my breathing. The space was quiet compared to the usual commotion on the fourth floor. There was no whirring of machines, ringing phones and background voices, but as I walked further into the office, there was the faint sound of music from one of the executive assistant's playlists.

The twelfth floor was divided into quadrants. Philip's offices and his support staff took the largest, of course. They were situated at the back so he had a view of the entire floor.

The executive admins were already at their posts, so I waved at them as I passed by. They greeted me with a nod as they busied themselves, retrieving what I presumed to be messages left after hours or instructions from their respective bosses.

My first stop is always Sash's desk. When I arrived at Sash's spacious area, which was the envy of all the executive assistants because of its size and decor, her back was to me. Sash had a zen space. It was clutter-free, with a few carefully placed crystals and a small cactus in a terracotta pot on either side of her desk. Her desk was clean and green.

Sash turned and looked up as she sensed my presence. She held her index finger up, indicating for me to wait as she retrieved a message, and her fingers flew across the keyboard as she typed it into the electronic message system.

I checked my watch and realized I now had five minutes to go time, so I went to my desk and secured my purse. Then, at the appropriate time, I knocked on Philip's door.

"Come on in."

I let myself into the vast space and closed the door behind me. "Good morning, Mr. Blake."

Philip, who was on his office phone, picked up the receiver to have more privacy. He sat behind an ornate mahogany desk and motioned me to take a seat at the conference table in the far corner, where breakfast was already set up for two, but there was also a fruit plate, croissants, muffins, a pitcher of water, and a coffee machine set up on a serving cart, which suggests more people would be joining us. Just the thought of it made my stomach uneasy.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I retrieved and saw Sasha's text.

Sasha: You just couldn't wait, could you? I would have told you that your meeting is only for ten minutes. Then, he's coming along with Noah and Beth.

Michonne: WTF, Sash? You're just telling me now.

Sasha: Philip's a cagy bastard. He only told me this morning, but obviously, he told Rick yesterday because you know he comes in much later. I checked with Beth earlier, and she said he was at his desk minutes to eight. You can only imagine he's surly as hell. Her words, not mine.

Michonne: I do not like this. Why all this cloak and dagger?

Sasha: He trusts me with his dirty secrets, but when it concerns you, his lips are sealed. You'd think by now, he'd know I know what you know and vice-versa.

I groaned. Seeing Rick was not the way I wanted to start my day.

"Take a seat, Michonne," Philip added as he hastily took his, uncovered his plate and dug into his western omelet. I took my seat and followed suit. Breakfast meetings were no surprise to me. We had them at least once a month.

There was no preamble with my godfather; he just went for the jugular. "So, young lady, you want to tell me what's going on with you and Grimes?"

I choked and covered my mouth with the back of my hand as I coughed to avoid spraying my food across the table. I got up, poured myself a glass of water, and took a sip. After all, it was his firm, so of course, he knew.

After composing myself, I sat once more. "It was a misunderstanding. It won't happen again."

"Are you sure that's all it was? I mean, if there was anything inappropriate going on, you would tell me about it, right? I don't want to be getting a call from your daddy. I need to know what's going on in my shop."

"I can handle myself, sir."

"I know you can, but that's not what I'm asking you. Has there been any inappropriate behaviour towards you?"

"No, sir."

"Good. I didn't get a chance to speak with you the other day when you asked for time off. Your daddy found it odd you were home in the middle of the day. I knew you were upset, so I thought we'd chat once you've had a chance to calm down."

"Thank you for the time off. I truly appreciate it."

"You earned it."

"I'm just happy to be back at my desk."

I watched as he became slightly flushed. Ordinarily, Philip doesn't show his soft side, especially in the workplace, so I assumed it was because of the company. I was not only his employee but also his goddaughter.

"Erm, about that—"

"I naturally assumed something's changed because I went to my desk on the fourth floor — the work and the cabinet it's all gone."

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Talk about timing. And just like that, the awkward situation came to an end. Philip looked relieved, but all I could think was, just what the hell was going on?

"Come in."

I didn't have long to wait because the door opened, and Rick walked in. His eyes were ice cold. I stared at him for lack of an alternate choice, given that both Philip and I were staring in that direction.

But for Sash's heads up, I had no idea who was joining us since my back was to the glass wall. They, however, had an advantage since they saw me on the way in.

Noah and Beth followed him, but neither met my eyes. It was clear that neither wished to be here nor did I, but here we were.

"Great timing," Philip continued as though we were all having a great time. Help yourselves to anything from the cart."

Rick abstained, but Noah and Beth complied because they no doubt felt obligated to do so than to run the risk of upsetting Philip.

Once seated around the table, Noah sat beside me, with Beth on his right. Rick sat one seat over from Philip. It felt like the three of us had been sent to the principal's office, and the guidance counsellor had been dragged in to witness our punishment.

Rick sent me daggers, but I had no clue why. Three days away, and I was in shit with him yet again. This was the same man who came to my house and ate from my table only days ago. I had every right to have been angry with him because he was out of bounds. Now, he's pissed, but he has no right to be. I was where I belonged, at my workplace.

It was clear from his cold, heartless stare that he hated me. So what did I do to cause this shit storm?

...

Once we were all seated Philip began, "I imagine we're all wondering what's going on, so there's no point in continuing the suspense. Michonne you and Noah will be sharing office space on the ninth floor. Primarily, you'll both be providing litigation assistance to Mr. Grimes. Michonne, you will have two months to bring Noah up to speed on the litigation files and two days a week, you'll bring Aaron up to speed on my files."

Oh God, he's gonna quit. I thought.

"Something wrong, Michonne?"

My reaction to what he said must have been visible on my face.

"Um — no, sir."

"Good. At the end of this period, you'll transfer to the Montreal office to work with the litigation manager, Geneviève Gagnon. By the time classes start, you will have already settled in."

"Beth, as Mr. Grimes' assistant, your services will extend to Michonne as she will need admin help from time to time."

"Michonne, some of your paralegal duties could be delegated to Noah. That said, however, you remain responsible for his work before it gets to Mr. Grimes' desk."

"And whenever meetings are held, there must always be at least three in attendance. Questions?"

No one dared. I now understood why Rick was pissed, but how was this my fault?

Philip stood, signalling the meeting was over. We stood too, but he insisted we remain behind and eat something since no one really did so during the meeting. Finally, he excused himself and was off to another meeting.

Five minutes after Philip left, both Noah and Beth bolted. I stood to go as well, but he chose that very moment to address me.

"Michonne, I apologize if I crossed any boundaries with you the other day. It was never my intention to do so."

"I don't understand. We had this conversation a few days ago. What's going on?"

He looked puzzled. "You didn't file a complaint with HR?"

"I've been off work for three days. I got a call yesterday that Mr. Blake wanted to see me at eight sharp. I was on the fourth floor just before I came upstairs, and since my workspace was cleared out, I figured I was returning to the twelfth. I found out with Noah and Beth what was going on. My going to Montreal was nothing new; the only thing is the timeline's moved up."

He studied me as I spoke, and his eyes softened. I could see the gears shifting as he solved whatever puzzle he had going on in his head. "Will that be all?" I asked.

"Yeah. Thanks."

Satisfied that I hadn't maligned him, he stood and followed me out of Philip's office. Turning left, I went towards my desk to collect my purse, then walked over to Aaron's desk to gently break the news to him.

Naturally, Sash beat me to it. So, I asked them, "What the hell's going on? What's the gossip about Rick and me?"

Aaron answered matter of factly. "Does it come as a surprise to you that people think you two are fucking? Everybody's talking about your blowout. Apparently, Noah was summoned to HR, and Philip was there. It seems the issue with the binders and him hanging around your desk could be considered as borderline harassment."

Finally, Philip's bizarre questions made sense. "I guess that's why Philip wanted to know whether he's been inappropriate with me."

"I worked my sources with the administrative staff, and it seems that Beth was hauled into HR too. Apparently, botoxed has it in for the two of you. Even though no official report was filed, based on the fight that was overheard, they are conducting an investigation because of the power dynamic.

"I swear to God, that woman is useless. She's pissed because I asked for a raise. I told her I deserved it because nobody wants to work in litigation. She played stupid like she didn't know, so now she's on a mission to find a scapegoat.?"

"Well, perhaps she wouldn't be if Rick was nicer to her. It seems she went to his office the day after the blowout, but when she left, she was pissed."

"It kinda makes sense because Philip didn't side with her about my demands. So, she figures Rick's pissed at me, so why not try with him and get something to make her case. She was expecting to find an ally in Rick but he didn't bite. As if he was going to tell her he was fucking a subordinate. Ergo, in her head we're fucking, but she can't prove it. She tells Philip to see his reaction but he only wants to know whether his Midas is a perv."

Aaron shook his head. "You need to do it and get it over with. Everybody already believes it."

Just then, Aaron's office phone rang. "This is Aaron."

He replied on the second ring, but the look on his face said it all. He quietly passed the receiver to me and shook his head.

"Ms. Monière, would you care to join us? I know Philip stipulated at least three people must be present for a meeting but as you're the senior paralegal on this team, your presence is always required."

"I apologize. I have yet to log in this morning."

"By my calculation, the meeting on the twelfth floor ended thirty minutes ago. Given that you're on the clock it might be wise to do so." And just like that, the line went dead. I looked from Sasha to Aaron, "I think I seriously need new friends, Why on earth would you want me to be with this man?"

Sash rolled her eyes as though I was being dramatic.

"Because, girl, he's gonna make your eyes roll back in your head while you talk in tongues, and he will make you beg," Sasha added while simultaneously gesticulating the indecent scene.

Aaron cracked up and his head bobbed up and down as he tried to contain himself.

"I never did ask, but are you speaking from experience, Sash? Is that what he did to you?"

Sasha simply shook her head as though shaking off the character, and turned to return to her desk but her walk killed me and Aaron too. She flipped her head stuck up her nose and strutted away like she was on a runway. Sometimes she's such a diva.

I turned to Aaron and added, "I guess I should go since I'm one of the few who's expected to work around this place."

"It's Friday, let's do drinks after work."

"I can't. It's nice out so dad's going to barbeque—the first of the season. Pretty early this year. Why don't you and Sasha come for dinner? After, if you still want to, maybe we could go downtown."

"Sounds good to me. You better run along before the shit hits the fan."

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