Playing Pretend by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

Five

Eliza

I’m good at compartmentalizing.

It’s what I do. It’s how I’ve survived the months since I had to leave my family behind and start over.

But the past three weeks? No compartmentalizing going on over here. The inside of my brain is just a gooey melting pot of anxiety, discomfort and fear.

Tension has been at an all-time high between my boss and me. We haven’t heard back from Varner’s office since that night at the penthouse suite. I think that my boss blames me—as he has every right to—but he hasn’t said anything out loud. He’s been even more curt and stoic toward me, only addressing me when absolutely necessary.

Shit. I’ve massively fucked up with Robo-Boss. I try to be the docile, agreeable employee. I really try. But sometimes this mouth of mine has a mind of its own.

I keep reminding myself that things could be worse. After all, I’m still gainfully employed three weeks after I drunkenly overstepped my qualifications, messed up the Varner deal and gave my boss reasonable grounds to fire me.

Just considering that reality has me chewing frenetically on my pen cap.

“Hey!”

I nearly fall out of my chair at the voice that comes out of nowhere. I glance up to find Nadia shrugging into her elegant peacoat. “Oh, hey!”

Nadia is in-house counsel for Kline-Simmons. She’s tall and graceful and always effortlessly put-together with her sharp power suits and her flawless, dark skin.

But she also gives off a think twice before you fuck with mevibe.

I like it.

She looms above my desk, squinting at me quizzically. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sure! I’m great!” My words are way too enthusiastic to be convincing.

She furrows her manicured eyebrows at me before continuing. “A few of us girls are headed out for drinks this evening. You interested?”

Am I interested? Hell yes, I’m interested. But I just…can’t.

“Uh, I’ve…I’ve got a full plate. I…” I motion to the papers scattered around my messy desk.

Sera strides up next to Nadia and gives me a weak smile. “Oh come on. You’ve got to have a little fun now and then, right?” Her long brown hair and bronzed skin gleam despite her tired eyes.

I glance down at my work again. “Sorry. I—I really can’t.”

Nadia scrunches up her face with disappointment but she bobs her head in understanding. “Okay. Next time?” She finishes buttoning up her coat.

I nod back. “Yeah, next time.”

We share a smile and my heart feels heavy as I watch the two of them saunter off toward some of the other girls standing near the elevator. Their expectant expressions drop as Nadia conveys the news that I won’t be joining them. Yet again. But they all wave at me before they step onto the elevator and I wave back.

It’s all for the best, Liza, I remind myself. But still, it freaking sucks.

My eyes move back to my desktop to scan the half-written email on the computer screen. It’s a task that would normally take me no more than five minutes, but with the state I’m in today, I’ve been working on it for at least half an hour.

The hairs on the back of my neck bristle. I glance over my shoulder.

Mr. Kline is staring at me.

Dammit.

Perched behind his sprawling executive desk, pinning me in place with those granite eyes of his. His lips are scowling. His jaw is hard. I want to look away. I should. And eventually, I do. But it takes me way longer than appropriate.

I’m a mess.

The office phone rings on my desk, and I’m so caught off guard, I damn near swallow my pen cap. Gagging, I pluck the pen out of my mouth and try to get myself together.

“Donatello’s,” I chirp.

“What?” comes the response.

“Uh. What?” I mirror, trying to figure out what I said wrong and who’s on the other end.

“Sorry,” the voice on the phone murmurs. “I must have dialed the wrong number.”

I’m dropping the phone back onto its cradle when a shuffle behind me nearly makes me jump out of my chair again. I turn to see that it’s just Marvin standing there.

Nice guy. Interns in the evenings. Creeps around like a mouse.

“You nearly gave me a freaking heart attack,” I mutter, gripping my chest.

“Who is Donatello’s?” he asks.

I blink, turning my head to stare at him. Huh?

When I don’t answer, he continues. “Donatello’s. That’s how you answered the phone.”

I groan, letting my head fall onto my desk. “It’s a pizzeria,” I mumble. “It’s where I worked back in high school.”

What the hell is wrong with me? A little stress and my brain shuts down, sending me back in time? If I keep this up, I’m going to be humming nursery rhymes by the end of the day.

I can tell that poor Marvin doesn’t even know what to say. “Oh. Uh. That’s weird.” Yeah, tell me about it. “Well, I just wanted to come give you this,” he says, handing me a sheet of copy paper.

I peel myself off my desk to take a look. It’s a fax I sent to a client earlier.

“How’d you get this?” I stare at him with a furrowed brow.

He looks increasingly uncomfortable with my strange behavior. “It came through the internal fax. I think maybe…you dialed the wrong number when you sent it?”

A client was expecting this twenty minutes ago.

I groan, because hey, what else can I do? I discreetly take the sheet from his hands, glancing back to make sure my boss isn’t witnessing this. I’ve already committed enough offenses in the last five minutes that Mr. Kline would be justified in immediately kicking me out if he knew.

My boss is a stickler for accuracy and efficiency. Two things I’m running low on these days. Good thing he’s not at his desk at the moment.

“How good are you at keeping secrets?” I eyeball the intern.

He mimes zipping his lips and forces an unconvincing grin before retreating to his desk.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my hands clasped in front of me in prayer pose.

With a heavy sigh, I turn back to my computer and resend the fax. I double-check to make sure it went through this time. Then, I go back to trying to tie up the email I’ve been working on.

I spend another five minutes or so on the task before I hear heavy footsteps approaching from behind me. I glance up in time to see my boss strolling past my desk, a resolute look on his gorgeous face.

“Grab your coat, Ms. Jenkins.” He speaks without a glimpse my way.

“Sir?”

He stops and pivots in front of my desk. “I said, grab your coat.”

My palms instantly go clammy against the keys of my laptop.

Oh, god.

This is it.

This is the moment he fires me.

He’s about to escort me to the elevator. I bet two burly security guards are there, waiting to grab me by the collar and fling me outside, Fresh Prince of Bel Air style.

Scrambling to my feet, I grab my purse from beneath my desk and lift my cardigan from where it’s hanging on the back of my chair.

“Can I…can I ask what’s about to happen right now?” I question warily as I stumble down the hall after him. I’m struggling to get an arm into my cardigan and pull my purse strap over my neck at once.

“You’re taking me on a tour of Sin Valley,” the man announces matter-of-factly.

“A what?”

“Ms. Jenkins, in case you’re in need of a professional ear cleaning, access to a renowned audiologist is included in the company-funded employee benefits package. Stop making me repeat myself.”

Good lord, mister.

“It’s just…I…this is just unexpected. That’s all.”

He slows to a stop in front of the elevator and jabs at the call button. He turns to face me. “You suggested to Mr. Varner that he get to know Sin Valley, that he explore the town through the eyes of a tourist. It just occurred to me that I might benefit from the same exercise. And you’re coming with me.”

“Like a date?” I hear myself blurt out.

With exasperation in his eyes, he watches me. I must be a sight to see, frazzled and breathless, all tangled up in my cardigan and my purse strap.

He frowns. Like the idea of ever taking me out on a date is completely ludicrous to him.

Shame washes down on me like a bucket of paint falling from the sky.

I attempt to backtrack. “I mean—like a field trip…”

He momentarily presses his eyes closed and deeply exhales. “Like market research, Ms. Jenkins. This outing is strictly business. And I expect you to conduct yourself professionally.” His stern gaze tells me that there’s absolutely no room for shenanigans tonight.

I can do that.

If it means I get to keep my job, I can do that.

The elevator door pings open and I practically bunny-hop inside. I spin around and give my boss an eager-to-please smile. “Duly noted, Mr. Kline.”