Page 34 of Of Blood and Smoke

“Christina, I’m taking a bathroom break. I’ll be right back.” I waited. “Christina?”

She glanced up, gave me a disgusted look, and peered back down. “What?”

“I’ll be right back.”

She didn’t reply and I walked as quickly as my pencil skirt would allow. I’d almost made it to the elevator when the doorsopened, and a familiar boot stepped out. My lips parted, an embarrassing “eek” escaping, and I ducked behind a wall, my heart thudding under my blouse.

This is so stupid,I chided myself.

There was no reason I shouldn’t be able to have peace in my workplace. Thinking back to my on-boarding, I remembered Ipomoea did have a human resources department and I had to wonder how many complaints there’d been about Josiah. Likely, they were few and far between and obviously the problem lay with me, since I had terrible timing and no self-control.

What was I supposed to tell them if I did go and make a complaint? “I’m sorry I can’t follow basic rules”? Or, “I’m constantly freaking out”?

When I was confident the coast was clear, I sauntered toward the lift and met my best friend inside the spacious bathroom. It was more of a suite—with couches, a mini refrigerator, and even shower stalls.

“Hey!” Ashley exclaimed, pulling me in for a hug.

“Hi.” I smiled at her. We’d both been so busy we hadn’t been able to talk much lately.

I got her caught her up on my dad, telling her about the books I’d been reading to him, and then updated her on my moving and packing process. She let me know her and Andy were starting the process of looking for a place for the two of them to move in together. Much to her dismay, her mom was going to stay in the old apartment since her dad was employed as maintenance there.

“That’s great, I’m happy for you guys. How is everything going here?”

“It’s good,” she said. “My manager is super understanding and lets us be creative. I think I told you before? I can pretty much do what I want. Can’t complain about that.” Ashley lifted her hands for emphasis.

Taking a seat on one of the sofas, I asked, “Do you ever see Mister Ipomoea or Calthia down there?”

She frowned and shook her head. “No. Well, very rarely. Sometimes Mister Calthia. Why?”

“Brett said people are talking shit about me, about them.”

“What? That’s ridiculous.”

“Yeah, I guess they’re saying ‘favoritism’ but let me tell you, I’m about two seconds from getting fired.”

“No. No, you can’t let that happen. How’d he hear that to begin with?” Ashley sat down, angled toward me.

I arched an eyebrow. “You’re the only one I told about the strange gifts, coffee, being left on my desk and somehow, he knew. Unless it was that bitch, Christina. I don’t know.”

Her shoulders slumped forward. “I did tell Andy about your mysterious coffee, but I didn’t say anything else. He must have told Brett. I’m sorry.”

“Remember that day Mister Ipomoea escorted me out of the lounge while we were having coffee?” She nodded. “He threatened to fire me and then today, he handed me a file which I immediately dropped like an asshole... and then he told me to stay away from him the rest of the day or I’m outta here.”

Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “Holy shit. I’m sorry. I don’t even know what to say to that. I guess, just keep your head down and keep trying?”

Keeping my whole issue with not looking at Josiah’s face out of the conversation, I continued, “And there’s Christina—she stuck grape jelly on my seat, which I sat in. She’s got it in for me. I wonder if she complains about me to him? I wouldn’t put it past her.”

It felt like I was just biding my time until the inevitable. I’d set up my dad in a good rehabilitation center and put the down payment on a new apartment. I could, in no way, afford to lose this job. My shoulders slumped forward. Maybe I was expectingtoo much and had my hopes up too high—not everyone makes it, no matter how hard they try.

“From what you’ve told me before, she’s a real piece of shit.” Ashley stood up. “We gotta go, we’ve been in here for a little while.”

I glanced at my phone. “Yikes. Yeah, I’ll talk to you later.”

We hugged and went our separate ways.

Christina was standing in front of my desk, arms crossed, tapping her fingers against her upper arm. “Took you long enough,” she snapped.

I ignored her.

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