37. Ana
CHAPTER 37
ANA
L ater, at work, I’m tired but happy. Maybe I should feel guilty, because I’ve definitely crossed yet another line by spending the night with my bosses, but the experience was just too good for me to feel bad about it.
I’m screening applications for a new customer service rep position when a loud howl pierces the white noise that typically fills the office. First, I freeze, then I jump up. It sounded like a cry of pain.
By the time I get around my desk and out into the main room, others are already up and looking to see who yelled. There’s another cry, more muffled this time, accompanied by a curse, and the meerkat heads that have popped up over cubicle walls start to focus in on a particular spot that’s been the source of many a disruption in the past.
I hurry over to Rob’s desk just in time to hear the retail manager roar, “Motherfucker!” as he bangs his desk repeatedly. Is this another office-inappropriate song lyric?
His face is beet red as he tips a water bottle nearly vertical, draining the liquid.
“Are you okay?” I ask automatically, though clearly, he’s not.
Behind me, Evelyn pushes in. “Ha! Caught you!”
I scramble to make sense of the situation, and then see a sandwich with a large bite taken out of it. It’s directly on the surface of the desk, not in a bag or on a plate, and its components are askew, as if it was hastily tossed aside.
The puzzle pieces fall together quickly then, and when I nudge the top piece of bread aside, I find a thick white filling—maybe cream cheese?—studded with bright red bits of pepper.
“That’s what you get for stealing my lunches!” Evelyn cries, as Rob continues to gulp water like he’s been stranded in the desert for days. When he finally stops drinking, he gasps for air and fans his mouth with his hand, then he grabs for his trash can and retches.
Owen’s nearby, and I catch his eye. “Could you please get him a glass of milk from the break room?”
Owen nods and disappears, and I turn my attention back to the sandwich thief, who’s sputtering at Evelyn. “Were you trying to kill me? ”
The receptionist’s hands are on her hips as she yells back at him. “Did I force you to eat food that had my name on it?”
Almost everyone in the office—except for Derek and Jansen, thank goodness—is gathered around Rob’s cubicle, their eyes wide with interest. I ask everyone to go back to their desks, and tell Rob and Evelyn to follow me to my office.
Even after drinking the glass of milk Owen delivers, Rob still looks like he’s in pain, but he doesn’t throw up. He asks for my box of tissues and blows his nose several times as we talk.
“You tried to poison me,” he accuses Evelyn.
“I happen to like my sandwiches spicy,” she says.
“They’ve never been like that before!” Rob protests.
Evelyn arches a brow, looking pointedly at me.
“So you’ve eaten her lunches before?” I ask Rob, who realizes he’s trapped. He starts to protest, but he knows he’s been beat.
“Theft is a very serious offense,” I say.
“I’ll be happy if you pay me back for all the stolen food,” Evelyn tells Rob.
“A harsher penalty wouldn’t be out of line,” I say, causing Rob to look panicked.
Evelyn shrugs a shoulder. “As long as it never happens again, I don’t think any other consequences are necessary. It’s incredibly inconsiderate and rude, but it’s just food.”
“That’s a very gracious attitude, Evelyn.”
After Rob thanks her, I ask her to compile a list of all the food that’s been taken, to the best of her memory, and she nods and leaves.
“You could easily be fired for this,” I tell Rob when we’re alone. “Have you taken anyone else’s food?”
“A few things here and there,” he mumbles.
“I’d like you to make a list, too, or if it’s too hard to remember, maybe you’d like to buy lunch for the entire office one day soon to make up for your theft.”
He nods quickly. “Yes, I’ll do that.”
“No further theft will be tolerated, and you should consider this your first and last warning.”
Still red-faced, he nods again, blows his nose, and leaves my office.