Chapter 1
Chapter One
JACQUELINE: PRESENT DAY
“That’s it,” he murmured against my neck. I shivered, releasing a groan I normally would have tried to swallow but didn’t feel the need to this time. I arched into him, relishing the heavy weight of his hard body on top of me. I tried to meet him thrust for thrust, but the hold he had on my hands sent my blood racing, my thoughts scattered into nonsensical fragments, and my body eventually fell lax, surrendering to him, “Do you like it when I talk you through it, Jacqueline?”
I had suspected for quite some time I needed intimacy like this, but this was the first experience I had to test the theory. So I nodded against the comforter while moaning an affirmative because words were lost to me.
“Bloody hell,” Leo grunted against my skin, “You’re so beautiful like this.”
* * *
It was against company policy to slap a strip of duct tape over the CTO’s mouth.
But I still wanted to.
Everyone was laughing outside of my office, while behind the closed door I wore my earbuds and turned up my music, determined to drown out their ruckus. I was in the middle of processing new teams of software engineers and sales reps, drowning in onboarding paperwork. It was all done digitally, but it was paperwork all the same. I wanted to focus.
But I couldn’t, because he stood just outside my office, barely visible through the glass next to my door, throwing his head back to laugh at something his cousin had said to him with a smirk.
How did he fit in so well, so fast ?
I had worked here for almost three years now, and I was just barely starting to form friendships.
Sure, I used to argue that work wasn’t where I should bother to form friendships. If I wanted friendly companionship, I could be more social outside of this nine-to-five.
Unfortunately, I was very antisocial. The only real friend I had was my ex, so when I finally left him, I had no one.
I was an introvert, but I was also capable of becoming so, so lonely.
I didn’t want to be lonely anymore, and I was finally starting to consider myself friends with other women in the office.
But Leo Turner was already friends with everyone.
He made it look so effortless.
I shouldn’t have been surprised, though. I knew him. I knew him before anyone else did. Before he even interviewed at Sun Steer Technologies.
Suddenly, he turned his head and his clear blue eyes landed on me. He caught me staring at him through my office window.
He grinned.
I frowned and pointed to my earbuds with a raised eyebrow.
Leo’s lips formed an ‘oh’ and suddenly he was walking back towards his own office, Mary and the others following him as they all continued the conversation elsewhere.
My phone rang, buzzing on the top of my desk. I paused my music to answer the call, allowing Brandon Moore’s voice to fill my ears.
“Are you busy?” The CEO of Sun Steer Technologies asked.
“Not terribly,” I replied, glancing at the work on my desktop. I guess I could use a break .
“Are you in your office?” He asked.
“Yup,” after my reply, the call disconnected. I pulled out my earbuds and secured them in their case when a knock sounded and my office door opened.
I used to think Brandon was pretty cute.
In a basic white man sort of way.
He had dark blonde hair that brightened in the summertime, blue eyes a couple of shades darker than Leo’s, and a sturdy build slowly becoming more defined since he started joining our former CTO at the gym every morning.
There were rumblings from Sun Steer employees that Brandon had an arrogant personality, which I understood to a degree, but I thought that Brandon and I were more similar than not.
We had different modes.
He and I fell into work mode very easily, which could be off-putting to those who liked to shoot the shit on the job.
Brandon smiled shyly as he stepped into my office, and behind him, another new hire followed.
Sun Steer’s new Chief Financial Officer, Nicole Young, was beautiful.
She had short black hair that was half an inch above her shoulders, sometimes she wore her hair wavy, and other times she ironed it straight. She wore straight-cut jeans more often than not unless she had important meetings scheduled. Nicole also had a sleeve of random patchwork tattoos all over her arm, and it felt like every day she wore a short-sleeved blouse to work, I discovered a new one.
Today, I noticed a cartoon raccoon holding a little bouquet with large puppy-dog eyes added to her bicep.
I was confident that wasn’t there last week.
She plopped into the first chair across from my desk. Brandon grabbed the back of the other chair and pulled it a little farther away from Nicole, before taking his own seat and propping an ankle on his knee.
“We wanted to ask if you would be interested in hiring someone to support you.” Brandon usually went straight to the point. It was something I appreciated because it made his expectations of me clear. He didn’t start with pleasantries, pretending to care about anything personal going on in my life.
Some called that behavior cold, but I thrived from black-and-white conversations.
“I was telling Brandon that you’ve been so busy with all the onboarding you’ve had to run,” Nicole crossed her arms over her chest, giving me a kind smile, “And that we have the budget to hire one or two people for the Human Resources department if you’re interested in that.”
I nodded my head, suddenly thrilled that I was being offered help until a familiar sinking feeling settled in my gut.
What prompted them to have this discussion?
What did I do to make them feel like I needed help?
They’re disappointed in you.
They’re upset with you.
You’re not doing enough.
“Oh, I’m okay,” I smiled and fidgeted with my fingers on my desk, trying to look more confident in the moment than I was, “I can handle it.”
Nicole tilted her head, considering that response, “That’s great, but you shouldn’t have to. We’re going to reorganize a lot of the company to accommodate almost doubling the number of employees in a year. You shouldn’t have to handle a company this size on your own.”
I nodded, pressing my lips together, something in my chest tightening from her words.
She’s lying.
They’re trying to let you down easy.
You should have anticipated this.
“I’m okay though,” I pressed, “I appreciate you thinking about me, I do. But if you have something else you want to use the budget for that’s more pressing, I can run things just fine on my own for the time being.”
Brandon gave Nicole a look, one I couldn’t decipher before she inhaled a breath and blew it out of her mouth. She sat forward, bracing her arms on her knees as she raised an eyebrow at me.
“Hiring additional employees to help support you is, in fact, pressing,” Nicole’s smile was kind, and I tried desperately to find any insincerity behind it, but I couldn’t, “While I agree that you probably could handle what’s coming in the future with grace, we don’t want to wear you out. Think of this as a preventative measure, so you don’t get overwhelmed with the potential workload.”
I nodded along, letting her know I understood where she was coming from.
I glanced down at my fingers, trying to remember what my therapist had instructed me to do the next time I caught myself in a spiral like this.
“Ask the questions,” Mariam encouraged me, “No one can read your mind. It’s better to ask and know what they’re thinking, instead of second-guessing the interaction later.”
“Can I ask,” I cleared my throat as I lifted my gaze to stare at Nicole, her dark eyes still looking at me with kindness, “Did I do something wrong?”
Both of my coworker’s brows furrowed, Brandon already shaking his head as he shared a concerned look with Nicole, “What? No. You’ve done nothing wrong, Jacqueline.”
He’s lying.
He wants you to fix it without having to hold your hand through it.
“Trust their answers,” Mariam’s words filled my head again, making me inhale a deep breath to calm myself, “You have to trust that people will be honest with you, Jacqueline. Not everyone is Vincent.”
It was Nicole’s turn again to chime in, “We don’t want to hire support for you because we don’t think you can do your job,” she sounded sincere, but I was still a little skeptical because I was pretty sure I was broken, “We want to hire support so that you’ll feel comfortable taking a fucking vacation day.”
I blinked, ignoring the reprimand on my tongue for her language at work because she was technically my superior, “Oh.”
“You haven’t taken a day off in over a year, Jacqueline,” Brandon added, “You only took the day off when the rest of the company already had it off. You have almost a month’s worth of sick days added up because you’ve never taken a sick day either.”
I frowned, “…Is that a problem?” I had a feeling Brandon took as many sick days as I did. It felt hypocritical coming from him.
“For a capitalist society, no, not really,” Brandon replied, frowning a little.
I was immediately confused.
Nicole shook her head at him before looking at me again, “What he means to say is,” Brandon looked a little embarrassed at her need to step in, “It’s important to us for Sun Steer employees to take breaks. To unwind and maintain a healthy balance. Working eight to ten-hour days, five days a week, fifty-two weeks a year, isn’t sustainable. It’ll eventually catch up with you, whether you want it to or not.”
Why did I feel like crying?
I thought I was doing so well, I thought I was meeting expectations.
Maybe even exceeding them.
Turns out, I was just messing up again.
“Oh,” I didn’t know what else to say.
“You’re not in trouble,” Nicole sat up, lifting her brows at me with what looked like an encouraging smile, “We are proud of you and want to do everything we can to keep you happy here. We don’t want you to look for work elsewhere because we aren’t providing enough support for you. That’s why we want to hire more people to work in Human Resources.”
Trust that she will be honest with you, Jacqueline.
“Got it,” I was starting to feel embarrassed from all the reassurances Nicole was giving me, “No worries. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t slacking anywhere.”
“Not at all,” Brandon shook his head, “You’re probably the hardest worker here.”
“Definitely,” Nicole pulled her buzzing phone out of her pocket and smiled at the screen, “Are we good here? My partner is waiting for me downstairs to have lunch.”
“We’re good,” I replied, while Brandon hummed his agreement.
“Excellent,” Nicole stood, leading Brandon out of my office with one last look over her shoulder, “If there is anyone you know who you think would be a good fit, let us know. If not, we can start looking for potential interviewees whenever you’re ready.”
“Alright,” my smile wobbled, “Thanks again.”
“Of course.” And with that, the two of them left my office, closing the door behind them.
I exhaled and dropped my head in my hands, I could feel my arms trembling.
They’re not mad at you.
They like you, and they want to keep you around.
Trust that they’ll be honest with you, Jacqueline.
I don’t know how long I sat there, breathing through my anxiety over a work conversation that, logically, I knew shouldn’t have triggered such a physical response from me. I felt like there was a firm grip on my lungs, attempting to crush them against my heart. I felt heavy, so heavy.
I needed to lie down.
I eventually stood up and left my office, turning off the light and shutting the door behind me. I turned the corner, out of upper management’s wing, and walked past the empty front desk.
Thank god, because I didn’t think I could handle keeping up with a casual conversation with Signe right now.
I finally made it to my destination, the label on the door bringing me a hint of relief when I saw the unoccupied sign hanging from the handle.
Sensory Room.
I practically threw the door open before quickly flipping the sign to “occupied” and shutting myself inside.
I flicked on the oil diffuser resting on a small bookshelf on the lefthand wall, next to the only light sources in the room. A small lamp, right next to a pink salt lamp. I walked past the bean bags and kicked off my shoes to feel the soft rug underneath my toes. I bent down to the linen basket, digging out my preferred blanket that smelled like the oil diffuser, inhaling the eucalyptus and lavender scent as I held the material toward my face.
Wrapping myself up and remembering to set the thermostat for this room to sixty-nine degrees, I finally made my way toward the very back. Where the warm, muted lamp light barely made it. The dimness immediately felt like a weight off of my eyes.
A hammock hung in the corner, and I folded my body inside, letting the canvas support my weight.
I inhaled the scent of the blanket near my face again, focusing on the gentle sway of the hammock I settled in.
You’re safe.
You’re at work, and you’re safe.
No one is mad at you.
You’re in your head again.
I struggled to repeat those words in my mind, desperate to shake the last of this panic from my body, but realized I needed something else.
“Hey Siri,” I gently called from my swing. The gentle beep of the speaker let me know the device was listening, “Play Jacqueline’s Playlist.”
“…Playing Jacqueline’s Playlist,” Siri responded. A second later, instrumental music gently filled the room. The low volume made the music a calm sound. Enough to drown out my thoughts, but not loud enough to overstimulate me again. It was a playlist designed specifically to bring me down to earth. It wasn’t music I generally reached for on my own, it was music I only listened to specifically for these moments.
What I normally preferred to listen to would have been too much right now.
I hadn’t needed to use this room in a long time. The last time I used it was when I learned that Leo Turner was accepting the position of Chief Technology Officer.
That was about five months ago.
Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth.
I ground my teeth together and exhaled through my nose instead.
You’re safe, Jacqueline.
No one is upset.
You’re freaking out over nothing.
You did nothing wrong.
Though the words were true, my body couldn’t comprehend them. I pulled my phone out and set a fifteen-minute timer, another tactic Mariam gave me when I first started seeing her.
Having a hard and fast stop time for my meltdowns helped me feel more in control. I would allow my body to feel what it needed to feel for fifteen minutes, and then when the timer buzzed against my stomach, I would force myself to get it together to make it through the rest of the workday.
Then I could go home and dress down and cry.
Crying is good , Mariam told me, Crying is your body’s natural way to help relieve all the extra cortisol in your brain. Crying isn’t a bad thing. It doesn’t make you weak. It’s what your body is designed to do to help you regulate your emotions.
Which was cool to know and all, but crying made my eyes puffy, my nose run, and my skin flushed. It wasn’t something I could do quickly in the middle of my workday without causing concern.
So this fifteen-minute timer would have to do. I let my body shake, my teeth grind, and my fists clench. I soaked in the herbal smells and sound of the calming music, allowing my eyes to open and take in the dim, quiet, calm space around me.
I focused on the back-and-forth, gentle swing of the hammock that cocooned me.
Deep breaths, Jacqueline.
Just fifteen minutes of this, and then I could make it through the day.
Just fifteen minutes of this, and my heart rate would be at a healthier beat again.
Just fifteen minutes of this, and I could go back to who I needed to be.