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"No, no, no, no, no!" Elliot stabbed one merciless finger at me before turning back to the computer on his desk.
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"Elliot!" I growled/pleaded. "You owe me!"
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"I do not! I did you a favor!"
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"Ha! A favor? Captain fart-breath has been breathing down my neck ever since you ratted me out, you jerk!" Several heads around us popped up from behind their computers to stare quizzingly.
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Grabbing my arm, Elliot dragged me down to the chair beside his.
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"Lower your voice!" He hissed, his shaggy blond hair whipping around his forehead as he cast several nervous stares about the many desk-clumps that surrounded his. "Listen here, little brat," he held up one warning finger. "I am technically your superior. As a part of HR I am corporate which means you have to respect me! You can't use that tone with me in front of others. These idiots don't need to know that we're all chummy, okay?"
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"So in private, I can be a total pain in the ass, but at work I have to be respectful." I confirmed with a humorous grin.
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"Essentially, yes." Elliot pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes in an effort to calm his growing agitation. "Although I'd prefer if you weren't a total pain in my ass outside work."
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"I'll consider that. So will you help me?"
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"No."
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"Elliot!" I whined, desperately grasping his arm in a fierce hug. "If you don't help me, I'll be stuck with stupid Susan or… Or..." My eyes widened and a soft gasp escaped my throat. "Or Michael..."
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Elliot’s eyes flashed at the sound of that name, and he once again warned me with one finger just inches from my nose. "No."
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"If I have no one else to ask..."
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"Lucia..." He growled my full name. "No."
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I bounced up from my seat and darted out of arm's reach just as he made a wild swing for my elbow.
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"Lucy!" He hissed furiously.
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"Hmm?" I smiled sweetly before twirling down the row of desks towards Elliot's arch nemesis.
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A little background on Elliot and I, if you're still with me, Reader: I’ve known him since I was seventeen. We lived together briefly during college, and he-- by-habit-- took a big-brother role with me. I was in rough shape when he found me.
In the past he’s taken a stern and guiding hand with me when needed, but I’ve worked hard to grow into a strong, indepent woman, so now, he’s just my best friend.
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Michael, I have a similar relationship with...
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"Lucy, don't you dare!" Elliot stood from his desk, ignoring the gossiping eyes around that soaked in every word between us.
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Michael is Elliot's former best-friend. They had a nasty disagreement over a girl their senior girl in college, and now they pretend the other doesn't exist. Michael adores me as much as Elliot does, an additional reason to Elliot’s bristling temper.
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"Hey, Michael?" I approached with my hands behind my back the man that has Elliot pacing back and forth like a furious badger several desks down.
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"Hey, beautiful." Pleasantly surprised eyes smiled up at mine. "You never grace my corner of the office— what can do for you?"
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"Well," I leaned a hip into his desk, my fingers tapping idly. "Mr. Tom Banner wants me to get a little help in my department until I hire an assistant. I was wondering..."
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"No can do, sweetheart. I'm understaffed today."
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"But I thought accounting had a surplus of employees!" I couldn't fight the pout that appeared on my lips.
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"We did until Brian's wife had a baby, and then Julie called out sick. She should be back Monday— maybe I can help then?"
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"I won't need help Monday— I needed help today." I grouched, crossing my arms over my chest.
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"Don't be a grump, little brat." Michael scolded gently, using the nickname Elliot had called me just minutes prior. "I take it Eli said no too?"
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"Mhm." I nodded, chewing on my bottom lip. "But he's just being spiteful about it. He has no real reason."
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"Want me to talk to him?" Michael grinned wickedly, and I rolled my eyes and smiled ever-so-slightly.
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"Sure, go ahead and enter the lion's den. I'll stand on the sidelines and cheer for you."
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Rubbing his chin, Michael peered around me and warily studied his former friend who was still pacing, all but trembling with rage.
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"Yeah, that's a fair point. I'll stay out of it." Michael sighed and offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry, kiddo."
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"Meh..." I shrugged and waved off his apology.
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Returning to my desk required me to pass Elliot's. In passing, he gripped my arm painfully, forcing me to stop.
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"Are you daft!" He growled. "Why would you do that!"
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"I need help from somebody!" I yanked my arm away. "And you'll be pleased to know that he said no too!" I stomp away, oblivious to Mr. Tom Banners eyes following me all the way back to my desk.
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When Mr. Tom Banner removed himself from his office, I prepared myself for the: "so, who have you chosen to help you" question that I wasn't prepared for. But instead of bee-lining straight down the walkway between desks, he looked somewhere towards the back corner of the office, and crooked his finger at somebody.
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Curiously, I peeked over my shoulder, and to my surprise, Michael was rising from his desk, and walking towards the front of the office. And then, to make matters even more concerning, he closed the distance between him and Elliot, patting at his shoulder until he had Elliot’s attention, gesturing for him to follow.
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Michael stopped beside Mr. Tom Banner, and waited with him as Elliot rose from his chair, and together, the three of them enclosed themselves behind the glass walls of that impenetrable ice-castle.
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What the hell?
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Okay, just because Mr. Boss Man pulled the very two individuals I had just spoken with into his office for an ominously private chat— didn't necessarily mean it was about me, right?
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Right?
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Well, I'm nothing if not a diligent over-thinker, so for the duration of that mysterious meeting between my boss, my best friend, and the man who used to be a third in that friendship; I studied vigilantly the quick words that formed on Mr. Tom Banners lips.
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Unfortunately, Dearest Reader, reading lips is not a brilliant talent of mine. However, I am very virtuous at deciphering facial expressions, and as I studied Mr. Tom Banner's face, I gathered...
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Nothing.
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I got nothing from that perfectly unreadable face with its high sculpted cheekbones and perfectly black eyes.
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Damn him!
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Whispering murderously to myself: "what are you talking about, you slimy—" I ducked my head the second those eyes behind the glass found mine.
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So, they were talking about me! But why? Was he converting my friends to the dark side?
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Damn him! Damn him!
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Feeling terribly uneasy, I ignored Stupid Susan's judging sneer as I remained low on my desk, and stole a quick peek at my dainty blue wristwatch.
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4:49PM
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Brilliant, it was about time to leave.
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Chewing nervously on my lip, I closed out of my email, logged out of the system, and organized the messy papers strewn across my desk into neat stacks. Another quick peek to my watch verified that three minutes had passed.
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Damn it! I wanted to leave now!
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Cautiously, I raised my head just enough to see the men behind the glass walls of Mr. Tom Banners office grinning and patting each other on the backs as if they were congratulating each other in an awesome victory of manliness.
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Those fools, I rolled my eyes. It's five minutes 'til 5PM. I'm leaving.
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I gathered my purse, threw it over my shoulder, and stood in a half-slump-half-rise, creeping out of the office like the hunchback of Notre Dame.
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I cast several wary stares over my shoulder to ensure they hadn’t seen me, and then one final stare as I ducked behind the corridor that took me to the elevators.
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They didn't see me leave. I breathed a sigh of relief.
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The next time Mr. Tom Banner looked up from his desk, he wouldn’t find me sitting behind mine.
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