Clear

Clear: Chapter 17

Chapter 17: The Transporter

Storming back to my desk, I was still pissed that he had actually tossed me back down on that couch eleven more times before I had to give it up. When I sat still for a few minutes he had finally dismissed me. I wanted to punch the walls, the elevator doors, and my computer screen– I was so enraged.

I'm stuck in a serious rut because who can I turn to about this man? HR? Renee or Chris? What difference would it make?

Nothing, except for me actually losing my job.

And I can't risk doing losing my small stream of money when I'm moving. Life is complete trash right now, and I'm sick of it. I can not handle this man bothering me any more today, and I seriously hoped that I could have some damn peace from him.

Somehow it felt like I got my wish, as the day progressed. I didn't receive anything from him that, and for the next hour work emails and tasks were the only things flooding my inbox.

But no matter what happened, 12:00PM would always put me on edge. I watched the clock at the top right of my screen starting at 11:50AM. I wasn't scared, but the twisting and turning of my stomach fit the symptoms.

"Shit," I whispered as soon as I received an email from the control freak.

I closed my eyes, in preparation for opening the message with a subject "Food."

I'm so over this shit!

Ms. Young,

Be sure that you don't stray from nutrition.

-Leoné

"Are you serious? So first I'm a dog and now I'm a child?" I asked, giving the screen a brief middle finger.

What in God's name makes him think that he needs to tell me when to eat?

"You want to tell me what to do? I should be able to do the same and tell you to mind your own cottdamned business," I snuffed, while grabbing my purse.

I'll eat when I want and when I feel like it... or when I can afford it. The unfortunate truth about money was deafening while I tried to calculate my income and my new apartment.

Okay, so definitely no cable... reduced food budget.

My previous idea of a second job was starting to creep towards the front of the list, and I searched through job listings while indulging on a mediocre gyro from a nearby food cart.

Once lunch was over, I had returned to my cube and prepared to finish out the day. I was still living in a fifty-fifty situation when it came to receiving messages at work. Either the notification was work related or pertaining to the man on the thirty-third floor. But the end of the day was nearing, and I was actually worried about his silence.

I may still be reeling from what happened earlier, but I still needed to know something incredibly crucial from him.

2:58PM was beaming on the monitor, and I was losing hope. The moving company's office was going to close in the next half-hour, and if I needed to cancel my plans I needed to know now.

My cursor was seconds away from hitting "Sleep" in the dropdown menu, before I received another email.

Like a madwoman, I clicked the Mail app open and opened up his message.

Ms. Young,

Your request to have this Friday off has been approved.

-Leoné