I'm sorry for the late update, but I actually went out yesterday night with some friends (I actually have a social life, I'm so proud). Sorry to burden you with my life problems, but here it is - the second chapter! I hope some of you were excited for the next chapter as me, and I hope you'll enjoy it. This one's a bit longer and I'm sorry in advance for some (probably quite frequent) mistakes. I'll try to fix and polish it until the end of the weekend :)
I won't hold you back any longer, I only have one "request" left. I'd really appreciate any kind of review on this one, any kind of comment on it would help me a lot. Not only with the writing style, but with managing the story as well :)
Now, without further ado ...
I know I should have run to my office by now, but my feet seemed to stuck on the ground. I followed his figure blend with the crowd and watched him sign some autographs from time to time. I was still catching my breath after our little … Occurrence. But I managed to keep those girly feelings bottled inside, like I've done it so many times before. "It's London, one of the most popular cities in the world. Of course it's completely normal to run into a celebrity like that," I said to myself and ran through the huge wooden door. I stepped into the lobby, which was filled with businessmen, wandering around the place. I wasn't surprised, since this building was not meant only for my job, but several companies and branches were located here as well.
I stepped to the reception, where I found our receptionist Amy. "'Morning," I tried to stay cheerful and settled, yet I was gasping for air really loudly. "Has Mr Chapple already arrived?"
Mr George Chapple is my beloved boss. He's a funny little man. Or that is the first thought that occurs to you if you see him for the first time. If you work here for over six months, you already start to sense his sadistic and manipulative side. I understand, though, he is under constant pressure for being the main editor of the magazine, therefore his job is to push the slackers to their very edge to get an only three thousand page article about some runaway llamas. Thankfully, I was one of the rare who worked really hard, that's why he puts extra effort in insulting me and driving me crazy. That's how he forces me to write a long ass articles that none of them is capable of writing. He knows my weak spots and I know when he uses them and why. I try to oblige every time, but being the only hard-worker here can get really annoying. That's why I asked for a promotion. Of course, he agreed on the meeting and here I am now, desperately praying to god that I don't believe in, that he hasn't arrived yet.
My prayers must've been heard, because Amy shot me a gentle look and said: "No, he hasn't. But I suggest you run upstairs quickly, 'cause I think he will come any time now."
I was finally able to breathe normally again. I formed a silent 'thank you' with my mouth and she nodded in response. I grabbed my purse and coat and ran to my office. I glanced to other offices as well and saw everybody on their positions. Why was George late? He is never late, especially not on a Monday morning. I tried to ignore the rising panic within me and stayed calm. "There's no need to panic. Everybody's here, normally doing their job. Why can't I do mine?" spoke the voice inside my head. I shook my head to make it go away, but it only made my head hurt.
I fixed my black trouser suit, bought especially for this occasion. I collapsed in the wide leather chair near the long table and observed the passing co-workers. I recognized many of them, yet not noticing Sarah coming by. I guess she's stuck with some paperwork in her office Mr Chapple has given to her due today. She always forgets about work during weekends and I kinda envy her that competence. I wish I could turn my mind off of things I choose not to think of. It's easier to close your eyes on things you don't want to see, but you can't close your heart to the things you don't want to feel.
Minutes were passing by and I was really starting to worry. Though the employees seemed to be doing just fine. I'd be happy if I were them as well, not seeing George's grumpy face as the first thing on Monday morning. It's like a recipe for disaster.
Just as I was about to set my mind of leaving the main office, I saw George rushing up the stairs. He was rather short and his suits were made by hand. I must confess he had a sense for fashion, putting that olive suit together with a nice, grey jacket. He was about to get bald (which was very odd for a forty year old man), but we all knew he was using products to grow some hair again. That's why when in public, he liked to wear hats. This time he was wearing a small black one, which was his typical for the start of the week. His round brown eyes started to search around the working space. I figured he was searching for me, since we agreed on the meeting ten minutes ago.
I stepped out of the office, pulling my phone into my pocket and yelled: "George!" I waved a bit, trying to radiate some positive energy.
But he knew me too well, that's why I didn't even bother to impress him. We both knew why we were here. When he heard my voice he turned around and shot me a humble smile. I could sense it he was pretty embarrassed to be late. It must've been something special that hold him up this long.
I moved a bit from the door, so he could enter. He threw his jacket on the chair, including his black leather briefcase. His actions were quick and rough, and I felt that he wanted to get over this pretty quick, to catch up with what he has missed.
"Please," he offered, pointing his hand to the chair and I obliged.
I swallowed a lump in the middle of my throat and tried to stay professional, like I am inside. I wasn't about to give away my nervousness like I usually do, but I was prepared for tough battle.
"So," he started rather loudly, his eyes wandering around the office. "Have you brought what I asked you to bring?"
He was staring into my blueish eyes and only after a few seconds I realized he was thinking of the files I brought from home. They were the reports of my loyal work since the day one and even though he followed my progress quite regularly, he wanted to make sure, once again, he wasn't making a mistake. I must confess, that we were pretty good friends, judging other typical relationships between bosses and employees. We were kinda on the same intellectual level, which was nice to come across from time to time. I guess the boss is expected to be an evil, sadistic genius, but to get along with one of his workers was not so frequent nowadays. These days they only care about the profit and marketing. But the bond between George and I was special, even he could feel it. Together we made this magazine a success and we both knew it was due to our great collaboration. I knew he doesn't want to lose me, since he has practically no one to replace me. I didn't think that highly of me, it's just that Sarah once mentioned it to me. She said she heard a private conversation about me between George and some high-society manager and she heard what a hard-worker I am. I guess others have heard of my reputation as well and were willing to pay me a handful of money just to work for them. But to be honest: despite George's occasional outbursts and his hot-blooded nature, I knew deep inside me I could never work as good as for George for someone else. It was just impossible and unimaginable.
I managed to pull the whole file out of my bag on the desk. We both sat in silence for a few seconds, when he finally spoke.
"Julia," he clenched his fingers and looked deeply into my eyes. Did I saw disappointment? "First of, I'm very sorry for being late. My daughter had to go to the doctors."
Sometimes it slipped my mind that George had a family, too. Though when he is at work, he tries to put his feelings aside. I only saw his daughter Olivia once, when he and his wife were in the middle of divorce and the little one insisted on staying with dad. He had no option but to take her with him to work. She has her mothers features, but her bravery and independence from her father. Everybody felt it.
"Second of, I really wanted to speak to you about this matter for quite some time. I'm glad you expressed the need about putting you onto higher position. You really do deserve it," he, again, devoted me a compassionate look, then grabbed the files.
"Just an ordinary procedure," he assured me, when talking the files to his eyes.
He grabbed his reading glasses and put on a deadly serious face. We both knew this "procedure" wasn't needed and that he could just assign me new article titles and a bit more spacious office to work in. I truly believe a good ambient is a number one condition for a well-done work.
As if he was reading my mind, he said: "I see no inadequate or unexplained absences, so no need to quarrel with you about that one," he said, chuckling.
But he was still nervously searching through the files. My cheeks were starting to get red. As is his wont, if he sets his mind on something, he'll do it. No exceptions. And if he set his mind on finding one slight mistake, one barely visible stain in my file, he'll definitely find it.
The beating of my heart slightly speeded up. My hands were getting sweaty and all I needed right now is his sad look and I'm done. My dreams would crush. Like I presumed, he picked his head up from the massive file. Even though I wasn't here for long, it was quite full. I occasionally happened to do some extra work.
After a while he put his glasses and files on the table between us. I saw he had difficulties making the following sentence, but I kept my courage. Feared the worst.
"Julia, I'm sorry for being so absent," he started. I could feel the tension in the atmosphere, but tried to ignore it. "I know you well. You know me well. I trust you and you trust me."
He was about to start his long speech about what a great team we make, how I was such a blessing to his magazine and how he does not want to lose me. But destiny has chosen so, and his hands are tied. I even imagined the whole scenario. Oh, he can be so dramatic sometimes.
"But there's one thing I especially cherish about you. It's your work ethics. It's something none of those apes possess," as he said the last word he made a grimace towards the workers passing by, filled with obvious disgust and contempt. I wasn't sure if I agree with him on this one, but after all: he is my superior and we're bound to disagree.
"What I'm trying to say is that I want to keep you this way. Your work has been amazing and I fear that putting you onto higher position might ruin your writing quality."
I was speechless. The things I feared only a minute ago seemed nothing comparing to this. Was he really that disappointed in me? To not want me took over a place I truly deserved? He even said it with his own words I deserve it, for Christ sake. I felt nothing but anger bursting inside me. I did not deserve this humiliation. I was just about to cut off this meeting, not having a slightest care about what George might now think about me. Because for all I knew, I wasn't ready for another let down. This was my break through and if he was jealous, that was his own problem. It's just the thing is, I really didn't know what the thing is, so I decided to solve this out in a proper way.
"What do you mean by that?" I asked, my voice filled with silent fury.
"It's just that I don't think the position you might take over would require your special skills. Your sixth sense for people, your natural adjustment to the nature surrounding you." He glimpsed towards me.
My heart went all soft and sentimental. But then a question popped inside my head: 'How did he know about all these things? He only knows the questions I ask people.'
He must have felt the doubt and confusion in my eyes and quickly responded: "Your crew is always taking photos, you know."
My cheeks went red immediately. But how did he know about these things? I always managed to get away from the camera's flashing lights capturing my face. But I guess they found a way somehow. After all, they are reporters. And he's the main editor of the magazine. He's bound to know all of our secrets.
"There's nothing wrong with your work, in fact, you're the one inspiring everybody here. I just want to remind you what a great job you've done here so far," he said and gave me a tender look and I couldn't help myself but feel proud inside. I was really working my ass off to get as far as I did. Sometimes small compliments and slight gratitude can do wonders to my inner satisfaction. I'm not allowed to expect much, so I go used to it. So it makes it even sweeter when it happens.
"Don't worry, I'll give you the promotion, like I promised. I hope you'll maintain your excellence you put in your articles and the passion that keeps you going."
He finally stood up and stretched out his arm to shake my hand. We ended this properly and professionally. I knew it would end like this. In fact, we both did, for sure. He just liked to get things straight, knowing he's doing the right thing. No matter how much or how long you try to convince him on things, he'll stick with his regular theory of wanting to see on his own. Maybe that's a promising quality for a boss, but occasionally it could drive you crazy.
"Now, if you don't mind, I'll give you some new titles for you to write," he said tenderly and I could sense excitement in his voice. I was very anxious to start as well. My fingers were practically burning, that's how eager I was to already start with new projects.
He passed me a giant file of papers and I gulped. I was aware that this whole 'next level' thing is going to be difficult as hell, but to be honest – I lived for that. I lived for losing myself in the subject and just let the words flow under my fingers. I was prepared for any kind of challenge. Even if the title won't be really in my style, I was open for new horizons. Because that's what your life is made of, isn't it? Being able to let yourself let things come into your life and you accepting them with your arms wide open. Even if it's not the best thing that could've happened to you. I believe that each thing is either a blessing or a lesson. There's a way of getting the best out of every thing. If you just whine about the things that happen to you, you may not be able enjoy the good ones anymore.
"Why, on this bloody Earth, would he give me this to write about?" I muttered disappointedly under my breath, when I went through some of the titles. But someone managed to hear me anyway.
"Who made the effort to piss you off already?" I heard a scornful voice behind the half open glass door.
Sarah was about the same height as me, although I personally believed she was much more beautiful. She had blond, shoulder-length naturally-beach-waves kind of hair that suited her in the nicest way. Her face was diamond-shaped, decorated with poetically blue eyes in the middle. Somehow, she always managed to emphasized them in such delightful way, I wanted to put some make-up on myself as well, from time to time. But I never bothered with that. My job is where I come to work, not to impress people with my looks. I wanted to make them feel something towards me for my writing. For myself.
Sarah was such a remarkable person. She always found a way to make me laugh and forget about my problems in a matter of seconds. I still can't believe she is my friend after all we've dealt with. I never would have guessed that I would find such a wonderful co-worker here. Not in a million years.
"Oh, it's nothing. George gave me the promotion I told you about yesterday." I managed to pull off a tight smile and she sensed that something stinks.
"I know. I eavesdropped on your conversation. You should have known me well by know." She had a curious smile on her face and I knew she was up to no good.
"Please, Sarah, it's nothing!" I blurt out, almost screamed, as she took the file from my hands. To be precise, a special file with a special interview title.
I turned away as she was reading it and could only imagine what her face would look like after she's done. When I heard a smirk coming behind my back, I immediately turned around to see her expression, which fulfilled my expectations. She never let me down in these things. As my best friend, she possessed some sadistic traits herself and not a single bit of shame.
"Oh, you've got some juicy stuff here." She giggled and threw the map on the desk. "What are you going to do about it?"
She crossed her arms on her chest and waited for some kind of reaction on her reaction. We played this kind of game every time she wanted to prove a point. At that moment, I really didn't feel like losing.
"I'm going to do execute it like a professional journalist I am and prove I deserve this spot." I answered with my best serious tone I was capable in that moment. But after a few seconds of torture, I started laughing and so did Sarah.
"I don't see why would it be so funny at all." Sarah was now half out of my office when she turned back, with a kinky smirk on her face. "Good luck with the interrogation." She pointed out the last word and I gave her a please-behave look. She just smiled and disappeared.
Well, to be honest, I didn't know where to start with this new article. It was nothing at all like I expected it. I sure did say I was open for new challenges and experiences, but I never thought of doing something so inaccurate for our magazine as this. I mean, we were a travelling magazine, that was describing the wonders of this beautiful world, inspiring the people around us to appreciate it as well. That was my motto whenever I was writing a report from my exhibitions. What would it be now?
The phone on my desk rang and I jumped. I was starting to get lost in my mind so often now, I usually scared myself. It was my boss.
"Julia, just one more thing I'd like to add about the articles." His voice sounded full of excitement and enthusiasm that I simply could not found within me.
"I'm sure you've noticed one special title among them." Oh, thank you for pointing that out, George. "Well, I'd like you to work on that one first. You see, we need to spicy things up a little bit."
I was just about to protest against that idea, but I guess he could hear the anger in my breath so he roughly interrupted me for explanation. It better be a good one.
"I am fully aware of the fact that this kind of thing is not really your area. But I'd like to test you a bit." Was he really saying that? "Your writing, as I occasionally happened to mention before, is really astonishing. I'd like to see where this goes. I'm sure you'll do great. Now off you go!"
And he hang up. Was that it? Was this really all he could say in his defence for forcing me this article? First of, I was really not so much of a shallow kind to write this superficial crap. Second of, regarding to the first, literally anyone else who works here could do it. I'm sure Sarah would love to, if George would give her a chance. Although when I think about it, she rather does enjoy seeing me in pain. I mean, what about Janice who literally lived for publicity, commercial business and public figures? She'd do so much better than me in this one, I admit.
I seemed to have no choice left whatsoever, but to make a few calls. I opened a drawer in my desk and pulled out another big file, filled with important numbers. With numbers, most fan girls would kill for. Yep, the celebrity ones.
The map seemed to be very dusty, since I haven't opened it in about … Never? Now that I think about it, it makes it even weirder why he assigned me this particular article. This map usually meant an emergency exit in our language here. We almost never used it, unless we were in some really deep shi... Wait. Okay, hold on a second. This couldn't possibly be, right? The thing? The thing I was just thinking about? Like George said, we trusted each other and I don't see a reason why he wouldn't inform me about such important thing. Sure, I did belong in the background of the magazine, the hard-worker who rarely got any attention outside her beloved office where she made huge hits. George was usually the one getting all the credit for my "astonishing" pieces, but in private, behind the stage curtains, we all knew who was the main bitch.
My time-ticking wrath was just about to burst out, but somehow I found the hidden strength within me to keep calm. Sometimes I still managed to surprise myself how well-skilled I was in hiding my emotions. Any kind of emotions, in that matter. Was George lying straight in to my face earlier? Was he hiding something? I tried to push these suspicious thoughts away and focus on the number I was looking for, or was supposed to look for. But I just couldn't let it go by me. I was a big part of the magazine, no one could deny it. I was partly responsible for all the things currently happening, even if it wasn't even my fault; I just felt bound to do something about it. The things in my head, the words he said to me earlier just started to slowly blend in.
My hands started to shake as I was digging through tons of paper. Should I do what I'm supposed to do, just write the article and sit still about this whole 'secrecy' that's been going on right in front of my nose? How am I supposed to stay calm if I don't even know what's going on, if anything is going on? I'm sure I'd be more prepared and ready to write this appropriately if I had clear mind and soul to start this with. I needed to be certain, I needed to have a clean path to function optimally in general, not to mention to write a killer piece.
This was going nowhere. The thing I was supposed to look for already slipped my mind ten minutes ago and now I've only wasted more time, more precious, unavailable time. I gathered the mess on my desk and stuff it all in the map. I didn't really look out if any of the papers slipped through. All I could think of in that moment was what am I going to say to George. How could he think of him so highly and confidently to think he could fool me? The more I thought about what he could hide, the faster I walked towards his office.
I was only few meters away from his office's door, when I felt a hand grabbing my arm away from my destination. My eyes widened when I saw who was that person, dragging me across the hallway now.
"Janice?" I said unintentionally loud.
"Ssh! Somebody could hear us. Quick, come here," she said, still holding my arm with her forefinger pressed on her lips. She turned to the path leading to her office and then pushed me through the door. That was rather impolite and I was just about to reminder her of her rough actions, when she, as she was reading my mind, silently started to explain the interruption.
"I'm sorry for that, but trust me – the force included was more than necessary."
"Could you please explain why did you do it, then? And what am I doing here?"
She put her left palm on her hip, while she covered her chin with the right one, trying to pull off a deadly face. I knew this was a joke. She never, in my entire time spend here, even started a slight, humble conversation with me, let alone daring to do such thing. I guess some people hold more guts in them than we know. But still – the whole thing itself was pretty odd and I hoped for a thorough explanation.
"I really don't know where to start." The outer world, rather than dealing with this one here, seemed more interesting to her right now than anything else, while she was moving closer to her wide window, showing off a beautiful view on London.
"I kindly suggest you can start by telling me why did you drag me away from the boss' door." I was really starting to get pissed off. "Care to accept my advice?"
"Of course, of course," she said absently, but this time she dedicated her precious attention to me as she faced me. Her arms were now crossed on her chest, still thinking of the way of putting this. Why the hell does it take her so long to create a few short sentences?!
"Look, I don't know what kind of game you're playing here. All I know is that you're wasting my time, where I'm more of a use somewhere else. I'm sure this regards to you as well."
"We're doomed," she said quietly. She wasn't making any eye contact though, wise girl.
"Come again?" I knew exactly what she said. It's about the way she said it. I hoped this time I could get more out of her. I knew how to deal with people.
"I said we're doomed. Going nowhere but down. Lost, bankrupt, fucked up, you choose the word!" Now she was making eye contact indeed. A spark mixed with fury, disappointment and fear shuddered her hazel eyes. I never got to meet Janice properly, but boy, she had a bad temper. I don't blame her, though. I needed some time for myself as well to process her carefully chosen words. What did she mean by that? "Oh, don't be silly, you know exactly what she meant by that," the voice in my head said pathetically. Then another question popped, which was rather more difficult to solve that quickly: how did she get that information? And from whom? Was she capable of more than anyone else thought she was? Would she actually have balls to eavesdrop a highly confidential conversation between Mr Chappel accompanied with our lawyers and bunch of other stupid monkeys pretending to solve the situation, letting us know everything's going as planned? But what if this time they would finally reveal the real propaganda that we are going nowhere? That there's no hope whatsoever left for our little journal?
Just the thought of the end of our journey here, the break up with co-workers that took a special place in my heart, made my eyes burn. I couldn't let that happen. I don't care how Janice got the information. Even if it's all false; every lie holds a grain of truth. Either someone must want us harm or it's really going down. I'm just about to find that out.
I wasn't bothering that much with asking Janice where she got that information. I was more curious about why she held me back earlier. What did she know?
"So why did you bring me here? To tell me this soppy story that's probably not even true?" I intentionally pressed on the soft spot, forcing her to spit it out. I wanted this to end right here, right now.
"I was … I know what's going on, Julia. You see, I'm not as dumb and blind as everyone thinks I am. I see things, I notice things that no one else does. But just because I don't always say something, doesn't mean I ignore them." Her cheeks went red. I hit the spot. I let her continue.
"It was last week, the day I stayed a bit late. I was finishing the last article for the upcoming release. Everybody headed home or out and about at least three hours ago and I was still stuck with all this paperwork." She collapsed in her black fabric chair as she put her head in her palms. I could sense disgrace in her gesture when she finally gathered the courage to look me in the eyes.
"I suspected no one was still in the building and since I was all done, I decided to leave. Even though I should have stayed later," she reminded herself. "Anyway, I was just about to lock my office door, when I heard a whisper down the hall. Later on, when I hid behind a column, I realized it was a conversation between two people. It was Mr Chapple and Mrs Jennifer Coatsworth!"
For expressing her sudden disgust and amazement at the same time, she shot me a wide-eyed look. I heard lots of things about Janice, but it wasn't in my nature to trust people in any kind of information until I was sure for myself. But right now she proved me she was one little gossip girl. After all, she was celebrity-obsessed.
"As it went on, I couldn't exactly hear what they were saying, so I stepped a bit closer to the office. I admit, I admit, I was being a bad girl. But what other choice did I have? I work her as well, and I don't like to do my job while there's some scheme going on." Her hands started to fly around in the air, adding much more sense to what she was saying. She was obviously implying that she was not fond of nasty little business going on behind her back. I started to realize that she was one brave girl, knowing what she deserves and what she's willing to do to get there. Nobody saw that quality in her, which was most appreciated in journalism.
"They went quiet for a moment after I moved only few centimetres away from the door. For a second my heart stopped, thinking they just might step out of that door and find me here, all curled up like a hamster," she sighed with evident relief as she continued.
"But the conversation went on when Mrs Coatsworth half whispered half yelled at Mr Chapple, saying there's no other way to do … Something. Couldn't quite decipher that one." She wrinkled her forehead, still trying to remember the words she heard. But then she just shook her head, inhaled disgusting office air to proceed.
"She sounded really pissed off, though. I never met her in person, but I could sense George was pretty frightened of that woman due to his absent inputs to the conversation. Which is very atypical of him, as you may know yourself." I learned that much about Mr Chapple that when he went totally silent, he was usually scared to death. And a thread from that Jennifer woman's mouth was enough to scare him to the bone. What would happen to our magazine if it were all real? Was it?
"That was pretty much all I could hear, since from then on she had a phone call she needed to answer urgently." She paused before continuing carefully. "I have a bad feeling about this, Julia. And I'm rarely a pessimist. This whole thing seems really strange and too suspicious to just cut it off, go on with our life, pretending nothing has happened. We both know we wouldn't be able to do that."
I agreed with her on this one. It frightened me how awfully correct she was. We needed to get to the bottom of this, even if it means George revealing us his deepest secrets he's been hiding from us for several days, if not weeks. There were lines of privacy between the boss and the employees, but we were all aware that our future was hanging by a thread, living in constant fear of not knowing when the day will come. We had to be honest with ourselves as to each other and not living blindfolded any longer.
"Does anyone else know about your little exploit?" I asked with a glimpse of humour, but knowing this was no time for jokes.
"No. Only you. Do you think we should tell others, too?"
I instantly thought of Sarah and how her brain was rather magnificent in planning on some evil attempts. Maybe she could help us out here. She always seemed to know the right thing to do when all of us just happened to freeze. She was the brain and support of our little group.
"I think it's a good idea if we tell Sarah. She's always been good with coming up with some brilliant tricks of getting what she wanted," I said with a bit of pride rising within me. I was happy that we worked in the same group so I was able to enjoy her pleasant company, especially when the day just didn't seem to end.
Janice stood up quite unexpectedly and intertwined her skinny fingers. She was about same height as me, although we were both wearing heels today. Everybody knew of her for her impeccable sense for fashion and newest fashion-trends stalking. Her curious eyes were now wide open, ready for incoming action we're about to cause.
"I'm going straight to George and you tell Sarah everything you told me. No need to spread it across the office, just Sarah will do. Deal?" I said with determined voice of a leader.
Janice obediently nodded. We were now both headed to our directions and I could only imagine the look on Sarah's face. I was fully aware of the complete idiots we would make of ourselves if that whole 'bankrupting' thing were not true. But my plan wasn't at all that aggressive and carelessly, sloppily hatched up. Like I said, I needed to get to the bottom of this matter, whether is it embarrassing myself or saving the magazine. Let's hope it will be the first one, because regardless of what reputation I would gain after my paranoid action, it's still better than the whole thing going down.
I was speeding up my walking pace as I was headed directly towards Mr Chapple's office. I really didn't have the time nor the patience to wait for him to finish the meeting we were told he has, even though he said it's super important. The last thing I cared about right now was how he has some stupid meeting, while the situation is getting alarmingly out of hand. And if he isn't going to do anything about it, who will? I counted myself as the only one willing to do something that would actually make some difference or have some kind of effect on the position we were stuck in, and of course, I couldn't forget about Janice. She surprised me with her invigorating encouragement which filled her, and was also spreading around the office, affecting me as well. I was happy to see some dedicated co-workers still fighting for what we all deserve. It filled me with strange hope that some day, maybe in distant future, we'll make a change.
Some guy from my group shot me a surprised look while I was getting nearer and nearer to the office. At some point he finally got the point of my extraordinary fast walking speed and he jumped in front of me. I kind of expected that to happen even earlier as I was passing small groups working on their projects, but none of them really had the guts to stop me. I'd like to believe they were afraid of me.
"Julia, Mr Chapple's having a very important meeting in there," the guy named Michael said gently,
I looked at him as if he was really that naïve. In response he just shrugged his shoulders and moved aside. Wise decision, if I may add.
Even though I was playing a tough badass here, something inside me was stopping me, holding me back. The urge to immediately stop what I was doing, because I'd soon regret it. A gut feeling. I chose to ignore it, although I almost always listen to it. But I was determined I'm not going to just stand there and watch it all fall apart, as they all did. I couldn't let myself down that much, including my ball less co-workers. They were, however cowards, and I had to do something about it.
I was getting dangerously close now, my heart beating like crazy for no particular reason. The urge was still fighting me back, my legs did not want to obey me as I was starting to open the door. It was like my each move was pictured in slow motion, watching myself like in some comedy show as the main character interrupts something awfully significant in that moment. And only when I opened the door with shameful courage in my veins, mixed with adrenaline, I realized I was completely right.
My eyes captured a very strange, unreal situation for which I thought I won't get to see in this lifetime. There he was, standing tall and proud, professionally shaking hands with my boss with that kinky smirk on his face. They both looked pleasantly surprised as they saw my reaction. I was not at all ready for this, as my face probably let it out for me, although they looked strangely amused at the sight of me. I gulped when I saw a dead serious face on my boss seconds later, slowly choking me with his eyes. Yet the guy's reaction next to him, stayed the same. He even gave me a head-to-toe kind of look, which really pissed me off, but I was determined to look and stay calm.
"Well, well, Julia. Wasn't I clear in the morning about my meeting today?" George was now playing the role of the most hilarious character in the show which had all the public stick with him and me coming out as a complete clown that was the main laughing stock.
"Um … I … I'm really sorry, Mr Chapple," I started a bit more cowardly as I dared to suspect. "I didn't realize it's that important. I'll … I'll stop by later. If you excuse me now."
Never in my entire life was I so humiliated and disgraced as in this very moment. Just as I was about to disappear and planning on killing myself to escape this misery, a soft voice behind me stopped me. A familiar voice which I was so afraid of right now.
"Oh, it's no big deal. We were just finished anyway, weren't we, old chap?" he said, tapped George on the shoulder twice, then squeezed it softly. He gave me a wide grin when I finally gathered the courage to face him. It was a sight I'll remember for the rest of my life.
He was now slowly approaching me, sticking out his large palm to shake mine. I awkwardly stepped closer, shaking when meeting his gaze.
"My name's Tim Huttington. I caught a bit of yours, but I'd like to hear the whole version." Another charming smirk flashed before my eyes and I literally froze. Or at least my insides did.
"My … name is Julia Grady. I'm so sorry again, for the rude interruption." Somehow I managed to create and utter these simple words which apparently gave such satisfaction to the actor in front of me that he devoted me another one of his famous smiles.
"Wait a second," he stared at me with his eyes narrowed for a few seconds. I feared the worst. "Haven't I met you somewhere before?"
Well that was awkward.