I didn't get home until eleven that night.
Every muscle in my body felt heavy.
For nearly a minute, I had stayed on the shower floor, letting the cold water pour over me until my breathing steadied and the trembling in my legs finally stopped. Only then had I managed to wash, dry off and get dressed.
I'd fled the locker room as if it were on fire.
The gym had been deserted when I left.
Outside, I hailed the first taxi I saw. The moment I climbed inside, and the driver pulled away from Parker Wines Headquarters, I finally allowed myself to breathe.
Then came the shame.
How am I supposed to face him tomorrow? Should I resign? The thought crossed my mind more than once during the ride home.
Maybe I could call in sick instead. But that would only postpone the inevitable. Sooner or late
