June

My eyes suddenly clear and I release Mr. Freight immediately, backing away. He shoves his seat back and rises, his face a mottled, angry shade of red.

“What the f*ck is the meaning of this?” He yells and I flinch, my eye darting to Mr. Hall whose jaw is now set hard as granite.

“I’m sorry.” I gasp, backing away.

D*mn it!!! I reacted instinctively. Six years ago when I was still attending tables, drunk customers used to grope me and it didn’t stop until I snapped and broke a man’s finger. The manager fired me that same night and the same thing might repeat itself today. The coffee cup has shattered into a million pieces on the floor and liquid is splattered everywhere.

“I- I’ll take care of this.” I say, dropping to my knees and grabbing the tray, fetching the broken pieces of the cup with shaking fingers.

“How dare she assault me?” Freight roars. “She nearly broke my arm!”

“Leave it.” Mr. Hall says and after a moment, I realize he’s talking to me.

“I’m sorry.” I say again, biting my lip to contain my tears of frustration and self-loathing. “Let me handle it- I’ll clean it up.”

I grab the next piece but cry out when pain lances through me because the jagged edge bit into my shaky fingers.

“I told you to leave it!” Mr. Hall snaps and I freeze, my gut churning with fear. “Get up.”

“She’s obviously fired.” Freight sneers. “If she wants to keep her job, she should get on her knees and beg.”

“Careful, Freight.” Mr. Hall suddenly growls. “You assaulted her. Our long history is the only reason I have not called security to haul you out but my patience is thinning fast.”

Freight looks dumbfounded and I’m sure I have the same look on my face. He’s not firing me?

“What?! You will side with this nobody-wretch?” Freight hisses.

“I’ll escort you out.” Mr. Hall replies suddenly. “Come back to do business when you are ready to be civilized.”

“But-“

Mr. Hall steps between us and motions him toward the door.

“Call the cleaners for the mess, and get your finger checked at the infirmary.” He orders at the door before he marches Freight out.

I remain still as a statue, watching him go until they’ve entered the elevator and there’s a funny feeling unfurling in my gut. I thought he would be mad and he was- but none of that anger was directed at me. What game is he playing? Is he not looking for the littlest slip to fire me?

With a start, I realize I’m alone on this floor. Mr. Phineas already checked out and Mr. Hall is gone, his computer still logged in right in front of me. I won’t get a chance quite like this again.

I launch into motion, abandoning the mess and pressing my bleeding finger into my dark suit as I hurry to his computer and run a search for my keyword, ‘The X file’ but nothing comes up. Of course I won’t be so lucky. I pull out the USB that Ryder gave me from my bra.

Thank goodness I kept it on me the whole time. I jam it into the computer and send a prayer to God as it loads and finally! The option to copy comes up and I click it and wait, my feet tapping anxiously as it starts from one percent. According to Ryder, this USB will duplicate everything on his computer without leaving a trace.

My heart is pounding a hundred beats a minute, my eyes jump to the quiet outside his office, to the silent elevator.

Now five percent.

My fingers tap anxiously on his table and I can do nothing but wait, my anxiety climbing higher a notch with every second.

Twenty nine percent.

“Come on.” I groan and start to pace. I’m toast if anyone walks in on me now, I might even go to prison. “Come onnnn.”

Fifty two percent.

Every passing moment is pure agony. That godd*mn bar crawls ever onward, slow as a slug and I pace again and then I start rummaging through his drawers to distract myself, careful to use my good hand and not the bloodstained one. I don’t think the file would be a hard copy in his drawer but it’s a welcome distraction. Only a few files are in his drawers, none of which I seek. I open the last drawer and pause- inside is a single picture of a woman, and a red embossed box.

“Huh?” I say, reaching for the box. Is he planning on proposing to someone? The lady in the picture?

Then a blinking light catches my eye and my heart stops when I see the elevator rising. He’s coming back!

“Shit!” I slam the drawer shut and run to his computer, a bead of sweat appearing on my brow when I see it’s only ninety-two percent complete.

The rise of the elevator feels like the coming of doom and I hover anxiously, willing that bar to fill up faster.

Ninety eight percent.

The elevator climbs steadily upwards, just ten floors away, then five.

“Come onnnn.” I whisper, I’m so close.

I grip the drive, just barely resisting snatching it out as it gets to ninety nine percent.. and then hundred percent!

The elevator doors ding open and out strolls Mr. Hall.