Page 10 of A Grinchmas Delight

His brother was nice. Much nicer than he is. They favor one another but where Zane’s eyes are light, Johnny’s are dark. His hair is longer and fuller whereas Zane’s is in a high and tight. He was wearing a wedding ring and he seems like a happier, wiser version of Zane. I almost wish he were my boss. I bet he wouldn’t hate me.

Monday morning is just as hectic as every other Monday, except it’s storming and I’m late. The rain doesn’t let up and I have to make a run for it in the pouring rain, in heels and a skirt with no umbrella. I come from a household where umbrellas weren’t a regular thing, so its’ not a thing I think of until I need it. I make it into the office soaking wet with my hair hanging down and stuck to my face.

I walk straight to my office and close the door, not wanting to have to deal with anyone. I open my computer and take off my blazer, hanging it on the back of my chair to dry. I run my fingers through my matted hair and try and style it as best I can.

My emails load and I see one from Zane to the entire media staff, calling for a meeting at seven-thirty. I look at the clock on my computer. Eight-fifteen. I groan and lay my head in my hands, elbows leaned on my desk. I press my thumbs to my temples and take a deep breath. It’s definitely Monday.

I already know that there will be repercussions from this and my anxiety is brewing in my chest already at the thought of what my punishment will be. The last time I missed a last minute meeting, I got a whole week’s worth of extra work tacked onto my already full plate.

I sigh and lift my head, turning my attention back to my computer screen. My cell phone dings with a text message, the sound making me jump.

Zane: Where are you?

I roll my eyes but type out a reply with my professional voice.

Dayra: In my office. I was late this morning and didn’t see the email for the meeting. I apologize. That was my mistake. I will do better.

I hope that my text is sufficient because I don’t know that I have the energy to defend myself today. I wait, holding my breath for a response. A few minutes go by with nothing and I wonder if he’s going to storm in here, eyes filled with that anger they always carry, and yell at me or at the very least, bitch at me with that stern tone.

Twenty minutes passes, nothing. An hour goes by. Nothing. Finally, I cannot sit and wait any longer. I walk down the hall to his office. The door is slightly ajar and he’s sitting at his desk, looking at something on his computer screen. He’s wearing blue light glasses and I never realized how good he looks in those. I stare for a moment longer than I should then knock on the door before he catches me ogling him.

I can only imagine the comments he’d have for me if he knew I found him attractive. Physically, anyway.

“Yes?” He asks, without looking up.

I enter his office and he finally looks away from his computer screen.

“You look like a wet dog,” he says, his tone flat.

“Uhh, thanks I guess? I got caught in the storm and was already late so it was either run through the rain or wait it out for God knows how much longer in the car.”

“Don’t you own an umbrella? A raincoat?”

I sigh. “Yes I have both and justchoseto get completely drenched in the freezing rain.”

“I didn’t ask for your sarcasm.”

I take a deep breath and ignore his statement. “Can you tell me what I missed in the meeting this morning?”

He grabs a folder that has my name on it and he slides it across his desk in my direction. I grab it and open it to find detailed notes on the material that was discussed in the meeting.

“Thank you.”

I turn to leave but Zane grabs my wrist. “Hey. How’s your wrist?”

I show it to him, mark free. “It’s fine. Thank you…for that.”

“He had it coming. Why were you even entertaining him anyway?”

“I wasn’t. I was just drunk and he was nice at first. But the more he drank, the more disrespectful he got.”

“You got lucky. You should really be more careful when you’re out alone.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, turning on my heel and leaving his office.

Part of me wanted to fight with him and tell him that he isn’t my father and I don’t need him to tell me what to do or how to do it, but I’m tired. I’m tired today and I’m calling it a win that I was able to get out of his office without an absolute knock down drag out.

I quietly make it back to my office and close the door behind me, exhaling as I lean against the door with the folder pulled in tight to my chest. Being around Zane feels a lot like running. I am always exhausted when I finally get away from him and there is so much relief once it’s over, but I get such a high from fighting with him some days.

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