My recommendation is to keep up the good work. I’m changing your title to senior executive assistant, and giving you a three percent raise effective next payday. Congratulations.”Wow, three percent. I could move up that early retirement plan to age seventy-five now, instead of eighty. Lucky me.Thank you,” I said. “That’s very generous.”You’re quite welcome.” Ms. Saunders nodded and grabbed a gold-plated letter opener to begin attacking her stack of mail.I turned to leave. Didn’t want to outstay my welcome.Damn it!” she exclaimed, and I turned back around. She winced and nodded at the letter opener that she’d dropped to her desktop. “Damn thing slipped. I’m probably going to need stitches now. Can you be a dear and fetch the first-aid kit for me?”She held her left index finger and frowned at the steady flow of blood oozing out. A few small drops of red splashed onto the other letters spread out on the desk.I felt woozy. And suddenly dizzy.I blinked.When I opened my eyes, I was no longer standing by the door about to leave. I was crouched down next to Ms. Saunders’s imported black leather chair, grasping her wrist tightly…… and sucking noisily on her fingertip.I shrieked and let go of her, staggering backward. I grabbed at her desk to keep from falling, but I dropped on my butt, anyhow, taking most of the contents of the top of her desk with me.She held her injured finger far away from her and stared at me, wide-eyed, with a mixture of shock and disgust.I scrambled to my feet and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.What in the holy hell just happened? I… I… uh… I’m so sorry,” I managed. “I don’t know what… I wouldn’t normally do something… I just…”Ms. Saunders pulled her hand close to her chest, perhaps to protect it from further abuse.Get out,” she said quietly.Yeah, I’ll get back to work. Again, I’m so, so sorry. Would you like me to bring you a cup of coffee?”No, not to your desk,” she said evenly, but her volume increased with every word. “Get out of here, you freak. I don’t care what you’ve heard, I’m not into women. You’re fired. Now get out of here before I call security.”But… my job review—”Get out!” she yelled.
~ Michelle Rowen
