Surprise Delivery(24)

“Well, you certainly look like hell,” I hear.

I look up from my trash can to find Tyler standing before my desk, a malevolent look in his eye, which only churns my stomach even more violently. I cut my eyes around the office, but don’t see anybody coming to my rescue. Preston and most of the other attorneys are either in court or meeting with clients off-site – not that anybody but Preston would come to my aid anyway.

“Just not feeling very well,” I say weakly.

He laughs. “If I didn’t know you to be such a frigid little thing, I’d ask if you were pregnant,” he says, amusement coloring his voice. “But, I’m pretty sure nothing that runs on batteries can actually get you pregnant.”

I don’t know why he takes such a special delight in tormenting me. Is it because I tell him no? Because I won’t give in to his advances and blow him in the file room like half the other women in this office have? Each and every day becomes more grueling and more of an endurance test – how much shit can I put up with before I snap and decide that living on the streets is preferable to this kind of garbage?

The truth of the matter is that until I can find a logical move – one that will allow me to keep a roof over my head and food in my belly – I can’t do anything. I make more here than I would slinging coffee down at Starbucks or mixing drinks in some sleazy sports bar. Probably more than both of those jobs combined.

For now, I’m trapped in this circle of hell and have to deal with the devil standing before me.

“Is there something I can do for you?” I ask.

The salacious smirk that slides across his face makes me want to throw up all over his thousand-dollar suit. Knowing him, he’d make me replace it and I don’t have that kind of money.

“No, not at the moment,” he says.

He leers at me for a moment longer before sauntering away from my desk to go harass Emily. Unlike me, Emily seems to think he’s charming and is more than happy to give him what he wants whenever he wants it. At least he’s leaving me alone. I’m thankful for that, at least.

As another wave of nausea rolls over me, this one more intense than the last, I grab my phone, check the time, and shoot Preston a quick text message.

Feeling terrible. Is it okay for me to go home?

He’s not due in court until ten-thirty, so I’m hoping I catch him before he goes in. Tyler is still huddled over Emily’s desk, no doubt pouring honey into her ear in an effort to get her to drop her panties. Emily’s high-pitched – and obviously fake – laughter rings out, making me wonder if she’s that enthusiastically fake during sex with him. My phone chimes a moment later and I look down at Preston’s message.

No problem. I’ll be out of the office all day anyway. Feel better.

I key in a quick word of thanks, send it off, then start quickly packing my bag. I want to get out of there as fast I can – and not just because I’m feeling sick. I just want to get away from Tyler and the rest of them. My plan is to go home, get online, and start searching for new jobs. I want to get my resume out there in circulation. Hopefully, I’ll get some bites. The situation here is getting worse by the day and I desperately need to get out.

Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I stand and head for the door when Tyler’s voice stops me.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks.

“I checked with Preston and he said it’s okay for me to go home.”

“Checked with Preston, huh?”

“That’s what I said,” I reply. “If you don’t believe me, talk to him.”

Without waiting for a reply, I turn and head out of the office. The moment I step outside, I breathe deeply, savoring the cool morning air as it hits my lungs – savoring the taste of freedom. No job should feel this way. I’m not na?ve enough to think every day is going to be sunshine and roses at your job – not even if you’re passionate about what you’re doing. But it shouldn’t be a constant battle, either. The workplace shouldn’t be a warzone.

And you shouldn’t have to feel like you’re getting out of prison after a lifetime behind bars every time you leave your place of work.





I‘m standing in the aisle at the drug store, my stomach still roiling – though, this time it’s from worry, not nausea. I hate to admit it, but Tyler’s flippant remark really got under my skin – what if I’ve been feeling so under the weather lately because I’m pregnant? Could it be possible? Duncan and I had been safe and used protection, so I want to believe it couldn’t be that. I want to believe it’s something like food poisoning.

But Tyler’s comment is sticking with me.

“Better to rule it out, right?” I mutter to myself as I grab the pregnancy test off the shelf.

I pick up a couple of other small things – mostly because I’m hoping the test kit will just blend in with everything else – and head for the register. I set everything down and as the cashier starts ringing me up, I see her hesitate for a moment with the test kit in her hand before she scans the box. She drops it into the bag and gives me a smile – and I don’t know if I’m imagining it or not, but I see judgment in her eyes.

My hands are shaking so hard, I fumble with my debit card for a moment, but finally get it into the machine and manage to process my payment. Grabbing the bag, I hustle out of the store, anxious to be away from the woman with her judgmental eyes. I take another deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm myself down.