The Meeting

Chapter 8- Cruel Lessons

I couldn’t sleep last night. The blood-like lettering was seared into my mind and it was all I saw when I closed my eyes. I stare at the smudges on the mirror from my attempt at cleaning it off last night. I'll have to do it properly after work, seeing as I’m already running late.

I bolt from the door, pulling my blouse closed over my chest and buttoning as I go. I'm lucky and see the elevator is waiting for me, so I pull my shoes on inside the car and use the mirrored wall in the back to check my hair is okay. It'll have to do.

Traffic is awful and I realize that I could've just taken my time getting ready. The main highway is a parking lot. Of all the days to be late, I choose my first day working for Hunt. I touch up my lipstick in my rearview mirror and smooth the bumps in my hair that I didn’t see before. I can imagine his face even before being there and it makes my hands tremble on the wheel. Hopefully I won’t be fired before I even get to explain myself to him. I don’t know if he would even want to try after the weekend.

My mind floats to the text I got from him apologizing and it gives me a little hope. Perhaps he'll be willing to hear me out after all. 

I pull into the parkade and see the dash clock reads 7:20am. I'm almost an hour late, which makes me cringe. I run up the stairs to avoid the crowded elevators and fling myself into the office, my chest heaving and protesting for air.

“ZOE!” Tom strides over to me, his eyes blazing. “Hunt has called three times asking where you are! He’s furious. You better get up to the tenth floor right now.” He pushes me back out the door towards the elevators, which I decide to use this time. One more run like that and I think I’ll die.

I stumble out on the tenth floor and the frosted glass front doors swish as they slide open for me. A blond girl on the front desk sneers at me as I inch into the impressive entrance way. She's dressed very smart and her hair is pinned in the back in a perfect knot. I can even see her manicured nails are flawless as she picks up the phone and mutters "she's here" into the receiver. She puts it down and motions for me to go through the next set of doors. My shoes clack against the hard tiled floor and my blouse is sticking to my back, my body moist from the running. I would bet that my face is probably red as a tomato as well. Great.

The next set of doors slide open like the ones before and I find myself in a carpeted area, which is a little easier to walk on than the tiled floor. At least I won't have to deal with the embarrassment of falling back here, I think to myself, turning the corner and slowing as I realize I have no idea where I'm going. Just as I stop, a door swings open from my right and there he is, tall and imposing in the frame.

“Is this the time you always intend to show up to work at? I don’t know what kind of show you’re used to downstairs, but up here I run a much tighter ship. I expect you here at 6:30am to get things ready for me.” He towers above me, almost making me shrink before his accusing tone.

“I-I’m not usually late sir. I had a problem last night and I..”

“I don’t need to know your excuses. Just don’t have it happen again or I will be forced to punish you.” His mouth lifts at the corner and I could swear that I saw a twinkle in his eye. He spins on his heel and motions for me to follow him. I hurry behind him, trying to keep up with his large stride.

He leads me into his office and I’m taken aback by the large, yet comfortable space. Art litters the walls and the main space is dominated by two large sofas centered and facing each other across a dark wooden table. A beautiful vase of tall, white hydrangeas sits in the middle of the table with a pile of modern magazines next to it. 

Hunt stalks to the back of the office to his desk and sits in his large chair, observing me as I sink myself into a small chair in front of him. I can't help but find myself staring down at my hands in my lap like a scolded school girl.