June
Where on earth is my Mr. Hermes Grande?
Not the one from that Thursday night. Not the one of that night.
The one I met after that night.
Last week — excluding Thursday night, obviously — Mr. Grande.
Because I really prefer that version to the one currently cursing at his files like they personally abused him.
I bite my lip with a sigh and turn my head away from his office, facing my desk instead.
I can feel the stares, hear the whispers, low and smug, after the whole coffee scene.
"She’s going to be fired before the end of the day," says one particular worker I’ve never fancied.
"Another one bites the dust," another chimes in.
I shut my eyes, clear my throat—loudly. Just enough of a I can hear you signal.
They should really watch their mouths. I’m the only one who’s lasted
