Caught by the Boss part 16

LEILA

I’m late. Again.

I rush off the bus, hauling my bag over my shoulder and struggling to wipe the milk stain off my black slacks. This is what I get for trying to eat cereal while putting on my shoes. My multitasking skills are tragic at best.

I walk through the building doors, straightening my back while subtly trying to wipe my pants. My heart jolts to my throat when a woman intercepts me, wearing a pantsuit without a single wrinkle on it.

I stare at her dumbfounded, because I don’t recognize her. Oh no. Is it the milk stain? Am I disrespecting the company by showing up looking like a mess?

“Leila, correct?” She asks, her voice low although we’re in a crowded lobby.

“Yeah.”

“Please follow me. I’m with Human Resources.”

Damn it. This is definitely about the milk stain.

I follow her to a white door that practically blends into the wall. Invisible. I never noticed it as I rushed to swipe my ID card in the mornings. But today is different. I notice the cameras, the red at the bottom of the woman’s black heels, and how the single security guard by the glass doors is staring directly at me.

Maybe I am naive, as my sister accuses me. I spent too much time in my little world.

I consider emailing my boss that something came up, but choose not to. Maybe this meeting with the mysterious woman won’t take long.

We enter the room. There’s only a brown desk and four chairs in here. No computers or paintings on the wall. No personalization, as if the office has no owner.

“Leila—can I call you that?” She asks.

I nod, studying her face. Her bangs are rigid and straight. They match her expression somehow. She’s an older woman with lines beside her lips—although I don’t think they’re laughing lines. I think they’re from frowning too much.

She looks over the rim of her thick glasses. “Very well. We’re sadly going to restrict your access to the building for about a week. There’s a pending investigation on a data leak, and that’s all I can say at this time. I’m sorry. Please look into getting a lawyer.”

Blood drains from my face. A data leak investigation? What is this nonsense about? I have nothing to do with that. All I’ve done is try to help by handing over my helmet so they can fix the memory glitch it has. How did we jump to suspecting me of something so sinister?

My fists clenched around my purse, but I keep my composure although I want to throw a fit. “There must be some misunderstanding. Please contact the CEO. I’m his temporary assistant and clear this up.”

“He’s aware and already authorized this decision.”

But… how? I’ve been doing my work. I’ve been running around crossing things off the checklists he hands me, rescheduling his meetings, taking his messages, and avoiding the memory of him flirting with me. Unless this is what this is all about. He’s afraid I’m going to sue him for sexual harassment, and he wants to attack first and get me fired to discredit any future claims I make.

I look around the small room. With the white walls that remind me of the speck of dried milk on my pants. I look at the woman with the pursed lips that judges me silently. And I realize this isn’t where I want to be. I didn’t leave my family behind and come to this new city just to be treated like a criminal. No matter how good the money is.

He should have known. He should have known that my work ethic is honest and heartfelt. I didn’t have to report the bug on my helmet, but I did because it was the right thing to do. But I see all those hours alone in the office meant nothing. I’m just another disposable worker.

I raise my head with the last bit of dignity I have left. “I understand. I have  a few personal artifacts on my desk that I would like you to mail to my home. That being said, please accept this as a verbal termination of my employment. I will send an electronic, written copy once I’m home.”

Her eyes widen, but she regains her composure. “You do realize that quitting will not stop the investigation, correct?”

“I think I’m done with this conversation. You should save your comments for my lawyer.”

That sounded cool to say, but it’s complete bullshit. I don’t have a slightest clue of where to get a lawyer to represent me—or how to afford one. As soon as I get home, I’m having a mental breakdown.

“Very well. Have a nice day,” she says as she opens the door and holds it out for me, kicking me out.

I walk away, glaring at the elevators and hoping that bastard walks through them. But he doesn’t appear, because he’s safe on the top floor, hiding and letting his servants do his dirty work for him.

“Good riddance,” I whisper under my breath as I cross the street to catch the bus—which is right there, waiting for me.

I wish they had told me this through an email this morning so I wouldn’t have to sit on this bus unemployed, betrayed, and sad. I could have been all of these things from the safety of my bed. But now I have to keep my head low and fight tears for an hour until I’m home.

The bus ride is long, and I stare out the window to look at all the nice cars flowing down the city. I had been planning to buy a car next year, but that will be pushed back now that I’ll drain my savings until I find new employment.

The worst part is that I don’t even have my helmet anymore to at least play a driving simulator.

Once the bus reaches my stop, I hop off and walk to my apartment. I spot a silver sports car parked outside, and I admire it for a few seconds before returning my attention to my phone. I consider calling Grace. Although we left things off on a weird note, she’s still my only friend in the city. And I really need support.

If I called my family, they would just demand I come home.

My finger hovers over the call button on Grace’s contact, but I have no courage to press it. I look up when I turn a corner and spot a dark figure, and my phone clatters to the ground, the screen shattering.

What is he doing here?! Was humiliating me not enough? Did he come to rub it in?

“Leila,” he exhales, pushing off the wall he leans against.

“What are you doing here!” I hiss, seeing red. “How did you get my address—you know what, it doesn’t matter. You need to leave. Now.”

I never dreamed I could glare at this man and speak so rudely, but he’s not my boss anymore. I won’t let him have power over me.

“I made a mistake,” he says, closing the distance between us, looking exquisite even with the lines of stress on his anguished expression.

I shoulder past him, pushing him by an inch. I struggle with my keys as I spit, “return to your fancy car and get out of here. Don’t worry, I won’t report you for sexual harassment. I don’t want the money you’ve made screwing people over.”

“Laura. Please.” His voice is gruff, pleading.

I freeze. The door is unopened, cracked just a few inches and letting cool air out. The keys are still in the lock and my heart has frozen in my chest

How… how does he know that name? That intimate, alter ego of mine?

“It’s you, isn’t it? The woman I explored. The woman I dated. The one I fell in love with.”

No. No. No! It can’t be him. Out of the thousand men in the company, it can’t be this power-hungry lion.

I pull the door open and slam it shut, dropping my bag and keys as I slide down the wall.

It’s him?! But how? And what does this mean for Grace’s plan? Does she know? And—

The knocking at my door comes hard and fast. I cover my ears with my hand and pretend that I’m in the machine, all alone in a far away place.

Is Leila over reacting?

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