I frowned deeply as the officer manager placed a box on my desk, a smirk on her face. “Pack it up then Harrington.”
“But…” I stuttered.
“Come on then.”
“I can get you the files! I promise!” I pleaded, trying to push the box back into her hands.
“I’m afraid this is the last straw. Mommy and Daddy can’t save you this time!”
I looked around the office, watching my co-workers avert their glances as I tried to catch each of their eyes in turn, desperate for someone to stand up for me. With a deep sigh I picked up the first framed photo on my desk and placed it into the box, starting to clear everything off.
“Make sure to hand in your laptop, then security will escort you out,” the office manager said, turning and stalking away on her tottering tall heels.
I watched her leave and then sunk into my desk chair, willing the tears away. I was so dead. So so dead. My parents might actually kill me this time.
“Lauren, your laptop,” Mitch the IT guy said.
I turned to see him standing with his hand out, waiting for me to pass over my work laptop.
“But…” I started, thinking about all of the personal files that I’d stored on it.
“We’ll wipe it,” he said firmly, “Don’t worry.”
I opened my mouth to protest but then gave up, grabbing the laptop out from under a pile of papers and passing it over. That was it then, I really was fired.
With my box full of my personal possessions and a few pads of sticky notes I’d decided I absolutely needed (some pens too), I headed out of the office, a security guard hot of my tail.
“Thanks for cooperating Miss Harrington,” the guard said, holding the door open for me as I stepped out onto the busy New York street.
“What could I do?” I asked with a frown, “I’m the worst financial analyst of all time.”
“Maybe its time to try something new?” he asked, helping me wave down a cab.
“That’s not really an option with my parents I’m afraid,” I replied as a cab pulled up, “Thanks though.”
“Good luck.”
I gave him a forced smile as he slammed the door shut and then I turned to the driver and rattled off my address. Luckily my fiancé was away for work, again, so I had the apartment to myself.
--
It was just after lunchtime and I was absolutely starving, so after dumping my box of things on the floor by the front door I locked up and headed to the bar across the street.
“Lauren, what brings you here?” Mary, the bartender asked.
“Fired.”
“Again?” she asked, setting a glass of wine in front of me and heading to put in my order. I didn’t even need to tell her what I wanted, she always knew. I guess she was like some crazy aunt to me, always there for me when I got myself into trouble with a glass of wine and a nice smile.
“I’m not cut out for this Mary,” I sighed, “I’m no good at this business thing, and really bored by it.”
“So try something new?”
“The security guard at the office just said that to me,” I shrugged, “I can’t though! My parents will freak out.”
“I don’t understand why they’ll freak out,” Mary replied, passing me a grilled cheese and cup of soup,
