Page 29 of Love and Cherish

“Are you really incapable of following the simplest of tasks, or are you as callous as the rest of the human race?” Febe didn’t wait for an answer. She narrowed her eyes at Haylee and turned.

For a moment Haylee watched horrified as those narrowed eyes stopped on Cherish and deepened. Then, like a whirlwind, the piercing gaze and woman who wielded it disappeared behind a door closed too loudly. The echo of the force couldn’t hide the stunned silence and stillness that stretched between Haylee and Cherish.

With an audibly shaky intake of air, as though she had forgotten to breathe for the past minute or two, which seemed to have been the case, Haylee bent down and retrieved the envelope.

Her fingers trembled on the stiff stationary as she turned it over, the rough texture brushing the pads of her fingers. Cold washed over her body. A chill that made goosebumps run up her arms and raised the baby fine hair on the back of her neck.

“What is that?” Cherish snapped, standing over Haylee.

“It…” Haylee fumbled for words that weren’t coming. “I didn’t see it in the pile this morning. I didn’t realize it was there.”

“What. Is. It?” Cherish’s nose flared as she echoed Febe’s question, and Haylee was reminded of the anger of bulls taunted with red flags.

Haylee couldn’t find any more words. She handed over the envelope, not even surprised in the least when Cherish snatched it. Gone was the ease of the morning. The day that had started so nicely had gone to shit in mere seconds.

“You put this on her desk?” Cherish’s voice was low and dangerous. She flicked her gaze up at Haylee, glaring daggers.

Haylee instantly wished for Febe to come back to the room. Maybe she could save Haylee from Cherish’s wrath, which was suddenly a whole lot worse than Febe’s.

“I swear, I didn’t know it was there, Cherish. It was an honest mistake.” Haylee’s stomach dropped again, bile swirling and threatening to come right back up.

“Sure.” Cherish’s word was so sharp that Haylee wondered if she would find small cuts all over her skin when she escaped to the bathroom. Cherish shook her head as she stomped to her desk. “And here I was starting to believe you were actually in this for the long run. I actually believed you could handle this job.”

“Cherish,” Haylee pleaded, the sound so close to her memory of Precious on the phone, but what else could she do? She was nearly in tears, ready to run out of there and never come back.

“It’s done, Haylee.” Cherish’s words snapped out, and Haylee knew it was the end of the conversation.

Cherish was right. She was awful at her job. It was a simple mistake, but it was one that she should have caught. What all this would mean for her future gnawed at Haylee’s stomach for the rest of the day. And she was unable to eat anything for fear of throwing it all up.

Every time Haylee thought about apologizing, Cherish shot her another glare, and Haylee froze up. She hated this. Haylee knew what it was like to feel part of a workplace now. She had friends here, and she’d thought Cherish was tipping the scales from coworker to friend too. But now she understood what it felt like to know the people and be able to exchange a casual ease that she had never experienced before. She didn’t want to give that up.

By the time Haylee got home, she was certain tomorrow would bring her termination, and the world seemed to press on her shoulders heavier than it had in a long time. She had finally found her place, even someone who might have been able to be a friend, so long as she stopped imagining her half-dressed and writhing on their boss’s desk.

Haylee let her bag drop to the floor just inside the door of her friend’s run-down apartment. She pulled the phone from her pocket, ignored the pop-up alerts, opened the phone app, and pressed the first and only favorite in the list.

The phone rang five times before she heard the only voice she ever wanted to hear again.

“Hey, baby sis. What’s up?” The familiar warm tones of her brother’s voice filled her ear.

That was all it took for Haylee to burst into tears. The rush of words about her day spilled through the phone. It would be so much better if Jackson could be there to hold her, but he was on the other side of the country. She was lucky he’d even been able to answer.

He made all the right noises at the right times and encouraged her when she faltered, not willing to put into words what hurt more, Febe’s iciness or Cherish’s.

Beyond that he did what she knew he would and allowed her to get it all off of her chest. The fear and frustration were loose and exposed. And then he put on his big-brother-knows-all tone of voice and worked Haylee through her meltdown.

“All right, Haylee. So you fucked up by letting your boss read her own mail?” He didn’t sound convinced.

“Well, yeah.” Haylee rolled her eyes, and the first hints of a smile touched the corners of her lips. “But it’s my job. Very explicitly explained to me by Febe's first personal assistant that I couldn’t let that letter end up on her desk.”

“I thought you were both receptionists.” She could almost see his eye roll and wrinkled nose. God, why couldn’t they video call already? She missed him so much. The sting of loneliness hit her harder than she expected, and despite being on the phone with Jackson, she knew it wasn’t enough.

“Yeah.” Haylee stopped pacing her small living space and plonked down on the futon she was using for both couch and bed. “But she’s been working there since the beginning, and what we do is more than just reception work.”

“Okay, so it was a fuckup, not just an overly precious situation.”

“Well, maybe a bit of both.”

“Why do you care so much about this job, Haylee? You’ve never cared before. Is your age getting to you? Because you’re not old either. That would make me old, and I refuse to believe that.”

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