Chapter Twelve
853 Words
“Emily.”
I kept walking.
A survival instinct developed over several years.
Unfortunately Christopher was persistent.
“Emily.”
“No.”
“Could you come into my office for a minute?”
I stopped.
Slowly.
The man had perfected the professional tone.
The one that sounded reasonable.
The one that usually meant trouble.
“I’d rather not.”
“I’m aware.”
I narrowed my eyes.
Behind us, half the office had suddenly become fascinated by their computer screens.
Cowards.
Every one of them.
“It’s work related.”
“Liar.”
A corner of his mouth twitched.
That wasn’t a denial.
“Five minutes.”
“Four.”
“Deal.”
Mistake.
A terrible mistake.
⸻
The second the office door closed, I regretted agreeing.
Christopher walked behind his desk.
I remained standing.
A statement.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
“You approved the budget.”
“Yes.”
“You weren’t supposed to.”
I blinked.
“I’m sorry?”
“The revised version.”
“The one you sent?”
“Yes.”
“The one asking for approval?”
“Yes.”
“And now you’re annoyed because I approved it?”
Christopher closed his eyes.
Briefly.
Like a man questioning every decision that led him here.
“I sent the wrong file.”
“That sounds like a you problem.”
His eyes opened.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
“There were two versions.”
“I approved the one you sent.”
“Without checking with me.”
I stared at him.
Actually stared.
The audacity.
“You sent me a document.”
“Yes.”
“You asked me to approve it.”
“Yes.”
“I approved it.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then:
“Are you hearing yourself?”
For a second he looked genuinely offended.
Good.
Now we were getting somewhere.
⸻
Five minutes later we’d completely forgotten about the budget.
The budget was innocent.
The budget had become collateral damage.
“You always do this.”
“What?”
“Assume you’re right.”
Christopher laughed.
A short humourless sound.
“That’s rich coming from you.”
I folded my arms.
The universal sign for:
This conversation is going extremely well.
“I don’t do that.”
His expression alone told me he disagreed.
Strongly.
“Emily.”
“Don’t.”
“Emily.”
“No.”
“You’re impossible.”
I gasped.
A real gasp.
“The nerve.”
“The truth.”
“The audacity.”
“The evidence.”
I pointed at him.
Immediately.
Like a lawyer presenting Exhibit A.
“You are unbelievably annoying.”
“And yet here you are.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
The second the words left my mouth, I knew I’d made a mistake.
Christopher knew it too.
The room went very still.
For a moment neither of us spoke.
Then he looked away first.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
⸻
The silence stretched.
Long enough to become noticeable.
Long enough to become something else.
I became aware of the office.
The closed door.
The lack of interruptions.
The fact that somewhere during the argument we’d ended up standing far closer than necessary.
Christopher seemed to realise it at exactly the same time.
His jaw tightened.
Mine probably did too.
Neither of us moved.
Which was ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous.
The afternoon sunlight filtered through the blinds behind him.
For the first time I noticed tiny lines beside his eyes.
The kind earned from laughing.
Or stress.
Probably both.
His dark hair was slightly longer than usual.
Like he’d forgotten to book a haircut.
Or been too busy.
I hated that I noticed.
Immediately.
And for reasons I couldn’t explain.
Christopher cleared his throat.
Once.
Then again.
Good.
At least it wasn’t just me.
“This is ridiculous.”
My voice sounded quieter than intended.
“Agreed.”
Neither of us stepped back.
Also ridiculous.
⸻
A knock at the door saved us both.
Instantly.
Like somebody breaking a spell.
We jumped apart so quickly it would have been embarrassing if anyone had seen it.
“Come in.”
Christopher’s voice sounded normal again.
Mostly.
The door opened.
Linda stepped inside.
Looked at me.
Looked at Christopher.
Then smiled.
A slow smile.
The kind that made me nervous.
“Am I interrupting?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
We answered at exactly the same time.
Linda’s smile widened.
Traitor.
Absolute traitor.
“I’ll come back later.”
She closed the door.
Without waiting for permission.
Coward.
⸻
Neither of us spoke.
Not for several seconds.
Finally, I turned towards the door.
“I still think you’re wrong.”
Christopher laughed.
A real laugh this time.
“I know.”
I grabbed the handle.
Then paused.
“You’re still annoying.”
“I know that too.”
I shook my head.
Opened the door.
And walked out before my brain could create any more problems.
Behind me, I heard him sigh.
Loudly.
Good.
Let him suffer.
The trouble was, I wasn’t entirely convinced we were arguing about the budget anymore.
- Writer
