s i x
They said I wouldn't be nothing
Now they always say congratulations ?
**
two weeks later
I was in the middle of rifling through some overdue bills when my phone began to buzz on the table in front of me.
I quickly fished the device out from underneath a mountain of papers before I answered the call with the swift click of my thumb.
"Hello?"
"Files. Coffee table. Office. Thanks." Veronica puffed out these five words before she ended the call just as quickly as she had started it.
I pulled my phone away from my ear with a frown.
Even though her message had been short-lived, she still managed to get her point across.
"Tyler!" I screamed loud enough for him to hear me from his room.
A few seconds of silence passed before he finally responded back with an equally strained, "What?!"
"I'm going to go drop something off at Veronica's job!" I yelled. "I'll be right back!"
His snarky response came floating down the stairs a few moments later.
"Good for you!"
My eyes fluttered back into my skull at his comment.
Why do I even bother?
After requesting an Uber to pick me up from Veronica's house, I swiped my keys off the hook next to the refrigerator and exited the house through the back door.
The midday California heat engulfed me as I cut through the alleyway behind my house. Veronica only lives a couple of blocks away from me, so I figured that I'd walk. Had I known that it was going to be this hot out today, I would've chosen a different method of transportation.
It's been two weeks since my interview with Kyle, and neither he nor his team has reached out to me with any type of news.
Veronica insisted that he would get back to me once he finished interviewing his other applicants, but I wasn't so sure that he would.
After all, I did walk out on him.
But Veronica doesn't know that yet.
I may or may not have told her that the interview went wonderfully and that the only reason I left early was that I suddenly felt nauseous.
Stupid, I know.
The sound of someone's blaring car horn pulled me out of my thoughts, and I glanced across the street just in time to see a man flip off the car in front of him.
Once the line of traffic came to a complete stop, I swiftly crossed the street so that I could continue my journey to Veronica's townhouse.
Five minutes later, I walked up the stairs to her unit, and after sticking my key into the lock, I let myself in through the front door.
The familiar smell of Dunkin Donuts coffee smacked me in the face as soon as I entered the foyer, and I couldn't help but shake my head in amusement at the scent.
That girl is an addict.
I walked down the short hallway that served as an entryway before I wandered into the living room to grab the papers that Veronica had requested for me to retrieve.
A frown slipped onto my face when I saw the state that the living room was in.
Three semi-empty cartons of Chinese takeout lay discarded on the couch next to an empty bottle of wine along with a bunch of unopened fortune cookies.
Papers of various sizes littered the floor of the room, and my confusion quickly turned into curiosity when I saw that some of the documents had wine stains on them.
What the hell was she doing last night?
It took me less than a minute to spot the files that she was looking for as the trash encircling the room made the neatly arranged stack of papers on the coffee table stand out.
I briefly focused my attention on the mess that Veronica left behind, and before I could stop myself, I reached down to grab the Chinese cartons from the couch.
It's a shame that I bombed my interview.
I would've been a great maid.
Once everything was back in order, the room looked significantly better than it did before. After taking one last look around the freshly tidied space, I grabbed the stack of papers from their spot on the coffee table and booked it over to the door.
My Uber was already waiting for me in the driveway when I stepped out of the house, so I quickly turned and locked the front door before I hurried over to the car.
As we made our way to Kyle's office, my mind took it upon itself to play me some of my greatest hits, including the last time I visited Veronica at work. Everything down to the clothes that I wore came back to me in a series of flashbacks.
"You work here or somethin'?"
The images in my mind faded away after my Uber driver, David, spoke up from the driver's seat.
"No, I don't," I told him. "But my friend does. She forgot something back at her place, so I'm just stopping by to drop it off for her."
David blew out a relieved breath.
"Good," he sighed.
I pursed my lips at his remark.
"Why do you say that?"
"My friend's wife's mom used to work for the bastard, and she said that it was the worst job she's ever had. Apparently, his shitty attitude got even shittier as the years went on, and she couldn't take it anymore, so she quit after three years of service."
What are the odds that this is some sort of freaky coincidence?
"Her name wouldn't happen to be Mrs. Davis, would it?" I asked him carefully.
I watched through the rearview mirror as his eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Yeah," he uttered in disbelief, "it is. Do you know her?"
A small, I-can't-believe-that-he-really-tried-it laugh escaped my lips as I shook my head.
That lying son of a bitch.
"Not personally," I admitted after realizing that I never answered his question. "But my friend knows of her."
David took in a deep lung-filling breath after hearing my confession. "Well, I hope that your friend is having a better time than Pamela did."
"Me too," I mumbled while turning to face the window.
I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of fondness for David. It's not every day that you meet someone who sees through Kyle's pretty-little-rich-boy fa?ade. If the rest of the world got a glimpse of his true nature, I don't think they'd be rushing to put him back on his pedestal.
We pulled up to Kyle's office ten minutes later, and I hesitated for a moment before stepping out of the car.
"Thank you so much," I told David as I got ready to close my door.
"No problem," he said, waving me off with a smile.
We parted ways after I shut his car door, and before I could even think through my next decision, a man stationed behind me called for my attention.
"Miss. Reynolds?"
I cringed internally as I was reminded of how Kyle called me this throughout my interview.
I nevertheless spun around to address him. "Yes?"
"Miss. Dunham told me to keep an eye out for you," a man whom I now knew to be the building's security guard explained. "She said something about you delivering a stack of papers to her."
I approached his security stand with a smile.
"That would be this massive pile of files in my hands," I quipped.
In my ten seconds of knowing him, he's already proven to be a lot nicer than the man who let me inside the first time.
The guard let out a small chuckle as he swiped his keycard to let me into the building. "She's on the tenth floor."
"Thank you . . ." I squinted to read his name tag. "Paul."
He held the door open for me with a grin. "Of course!"
A wave of déjà vu washed over me as soon as my foot grazed the floor of the entryway, and I quickly shook the feeling off as I reached out to open the last set of glass doors.
The view hit even harder the second time, and I found it to be much more enjoyable since there weren't any employees bustling around.
Not a single soul was present in the lobby, which wouldn't have been weird if the office were closed, but it wasn't.
I glanced to my left to see that Renée was missing from her desk.
My initial plan involved handing the papers off to her so that she could deliver them to Veronica, but since she was missing along with the rest of her coworkers, it was up to me to get the files to Vee.
I was eternally grateful that Paul told me what floor she was on. I would have been here for ages if he hadn't.
Upon stepping up to the elevators, I reached out and pressed the 'up' arrow on the elevator control panel. I then took a step back and mindlessly shifted my weight from foot to foot.
The sound of water pouring out of the fountain behind me was the only sound present in the room, and the longer I stood here, the louder it became.
The elevator finally dinged a few moments later, singling that it was about to open, and when it did, I found it to be completely empty.
I stepped inside the metal box before pushing the button labeled with the number '10.
' Since nobody else was getting on with me, I repeatedly pressed the 'doors closed' button to try and speed up the process.
The ride up to the 10th floor was a short one given that there weren't any stops to be made on the way up.
My heart nearly jumped out of my chest when the elevator lurched to a stop, indicating that I had reached my destination.
I prepared myself for the worst as the doors slowly slid open.
To my surprise, the reception area was empty just as the lobby had been, only the muffled sound of people talking in the room to my left alerted me that I wasn't alone on this particular floor.
I decided to text Veronica to inform her of my arrival since I wasn't sure which room she was in.
A few moments later, she emerged from the room to my left, and her eyes lit up when she saw me standing near the administration desk.
"You are a lifesaver," she breathed while holding out her hands.
I passed her the files with an eye roll. "You say that now, but any other day I'm just 'that bitch who lives down the street.'"
She gasped at my words. "I'm offended that you think I would ever say such a thing."
"You literally told me that yesterday," I retorted, and before she could deny my statement, I asked, "What's going on here anyway?"
Veronica let out a small sigh as she shifted the papers in her arm so that she was holding them up against her torso. "We have this stupid mandatory floor meeting every other month where we go over the company's progress and brainstorm ideas to see how we can maximize our profits further."
"Rodriguez is supposed to be leading our meeting since this is his floor, but he's ten minutes late for whatever reason," she explained. "Had I known that he was going to take this long, I would've run home and picked these up myself."
"What are they for?" I asked.
She smiled. "Rodriguez likes charts, so I made him some charts. Even though I'm an intern, he's made it known that he trusts me more than his actual marketing employees. I don't know whether to be flattered or scared that he can't count on the people who hold the position already."
I hugged myself as a chill raced down my spine. "Working for him sounds like a nightmare."
She shrugged. "It's not so bad."
I scoffed. "Tell that to Mrs. Davis."
Veronica scrunched her face together. "Why would I do that?"
"Never mind," I backtracked while thumbing towards the elevator. "I should get going before Satan makes his grand entrance."
Vee nodded before she turned to head back to the conference room. I was just seconds away from pressing the 'down' button when she suddenly cried out to me.
"Wait!"
I whirled around to face her.
"You should stick around so that you can ask him if he's made a decision yet."
My mouth went dry at her suggestion.
"Vee, I'm not so sure that's a good idea . . ." I trailed off, forcing myself to maintain eye contact with her.
"Of course it is," she countered. "It's been two weeks already. He should've contacted you by now."
The room grew silent as I internally battled with myself.
To lie, or not to lie?
That is the million-dollar question.
Finally, after seeing the concerned expression on her face, I decided to tell her the truth about what really went down that day.
"Look, Vee, I wasn't being completely honest when I told you that the interview went well."
She shot me a confused look. "What do you mean?"
I blew out a shaky breath. "The interview went horribly, and I know for a fact that I'm not getting the jo—"
The elevator dinged behind me, and the sound cut me off before I could deliver the most vital part of my news.
I didn't even need to turn around to know who it was.
The distinct smell of his cologne filled the air around me as he strolled out of the elevator, and Veronica's eyes flickered over my shoulder so that she could get a clear look at him.
"Miss. Reynolds." My name rolled off his tongue with ease, and I could almost picture the smirk that was, without a doubt, etched onto his face.
My eyes fluttered shut the minute he stepped up behind me.
"I've been meaning to contact you, but my schedule's been so hectic lately that I haven't found the time to do so," he went on to confess.
I slowly turned around so that we could face each other.
"That's okay," I frowned, pretending as if I actually gave a damn. "I got the message loud and clear."
"What does that mean?" Veronica piped up from behind me.
I glanced back at her.
"It means that I didn't get the job," I said at the same time that Kyle said, "It means that she got the job."
My body went into a state of shock at his proclamation, whereas Veronica just stared at us blankly.
"Well, which one is it?" she asked with a hint of annoyance in her voice.
I opened my mouth to speak, but Kyle beat me to it.
"She got the job," he repeated firmly.
A smile broke out on Veronica's face as she began to bounce up and down in excitement.
"I knew you could do it!" she squealed. "Now you don't have to worry about the bank putting your house on the—"
"Veronica," I hissed, cutting her off sharply. "Don't."
She instantly shut her mouth.
The atmosphere in the room grew tense as Kyle's hand came to rest on the small of my back. I peeled my eyes away from Veronica to glare up at him.
"Can I speak to you in my office?"
My response was laced with nothing but venom. "You sure can."
Kyle's hand remained glued to my body as he ushered me down the hallway to my right.
"But, boss?" Veronica yelled after us.
Although she was calling out to Kyle specifically, we both froze, and I watched him turn his head to acknowledge her.
"What about our meeting?"
"Tell Mason to get started," he ordered. "I shouldn't be longer than fifteen minutes."
Veronica nodded her head slowly before she disappeared into the conference room.
Kyle then led me into his office, which was somewhat smaller compared to his office at home.
I waited until he closed the door to vocalize my thoughts.
"What the hell was that?"
Out of what appeared to be an age-old habit, Kyle reached up to fiddle with his tie, only to discover that he wasn't wearing one.
He played it off by fixing the collar of his shirt, and when it was to his liking, he cleared his throat.
I followed his movements with my eyes as he trekked across the room and took a seat at his desk.
He gestured for me to sit down in the chair that he had positioned in front of it.
"Why don't you have a seat. I think you'll want to hear what I'm about to say."