Those reports weren't going to finish themselves, and this dawdling wasn't helping the situation in the slightest. Cadence pressed the end of the phone into her ear and did her best to resist the urge to end the conversation prematurely.
"Mr. Lengfield, there's no such refund report as a Y-23." She said.
The voice on the other end of the phone rasped out a hasty reply, once again drawing out the needless conversation into permanence.
"No, Mr. Lengfield, I can't just do the refund for you from here. I have to have some sort of physical record of this fiscal year's reports." She paused as Mr. Lengfield retorted in an unprofessional, unsavory tone she was used to around tax season.
"I'm sorry, sir, but if you want to take advantage of our filing service, you'll actually have to come into the office with some sort of paper in-hand. Thank you for your call, goodbye now." At this last word, she hung up quickly, cutting off a now fuming Mr. Lengfield. She pressed her index fingers forcefully into her temples, attempting to relieve herself of the daily 3 o' clock throb she could depend on around this time of year. 'It's really the only thing to depend on, anymore.' She thought, slamming down another off-brand energy supplement. After a quick, silent moment of introspection, she pulled herself closer to her desk and arched her fingers in the ritual report-typing pose.
A sharp, quick rap on her doorframe jolted her suddenly and turned her attention to the intruder in her domain.
"Knock-knock," Rick said in his goofy, half-smiling voice. "Are we still set for drinks after work?"
"When have I ever stood you up for anything, Mr. Moose?" She beamed back. Rick frowned at this.
"You know I hate that name." He wasn't kidding; ever since high school, he had come to loathe his last name. She could understand why.
She let out a soft chuckle. "Sorry, Rick. You know I'm just trying to get a rise out of you." She broke the friendly gaze to resume typing her 30th report that afternoon. He sat on the corner of her desk, gazing briefly at her buzzing monitor.
"Was that Mr. Lengfield again?" He asked. She nodded softly, the only noise in the room the occasional chirp of the computer and the consistent clicking of her keyboard. He pondered this and continued.
"Has my dad not told you to just direct that guy's calls to his office?" She nodded once again, and finished off the line she was working on before responding.
"He did, but why bother him with something like that? The man's got enough to worry about running this enterprise." She held her hands up to address the law and tax office as a whole. She held this gesture for a few seconds, and then returned to her work. After a sip from his coffee, Rick knocked quietly on her desk and gave her a quick nod.
"Well, I'll be back at 5:30 to spring you. You had better be ready." She waved him off and continued typing.
"I'll never finish if you keep interrupting me." She looked quickly up and flashed him a grin. He returned the smile and about-faced, swaggering out of her corner office. She shook her head, the smile still present on her lips, and returned to her work.
On the drive, Rick popped in a mix tape he had made years ago. With his trademark goofy, full-faced grin, he pretended to slick back his hair and throw on imaginary shades. Cadence couldn't help but utter a giggle. Rick was such a great guy, and he'd been her best guy friend since high school. Still, she felt a familiar pang of guilt when she thought about this. She knew Rick had crushed on her since high school, and she'd never returned the affection. It wasn't his fault, it was just that he was too close of a friend, almost like a brother to her. You couldn't find that anywhere these days. Besides, she couldn't be bothered with the notion of a relationship. Not after her last romantic travesty ...
