Page 27 of I Hope This Finds You Well

Get Cliff to like me,my list said. I gotta relate on this guy’s level. I nod enthusiastically. “Oh, yeah,” I reply. “Super interesting cartoon. One of my all-time faves.”

He’s still smiling, but his eyes narrow suspiciously. Shit, how can he see through me so fast? “I’m going to choose to believe that and not ask anything specific about it.”

“Probably for the best.” I smile back and scan for something better, something I actually like, but hardly anything in his office, despite the clutter, is something I recognize. It’s like we’re from different realities. He’s the pampered HR rep with millions’ worth of fandom crap, and I’m the admin who loves reality shows and early 2000s repeats where I’ve memorized all the plotlines.

He clears his throat and gestures to a box of Timbits. “Please, help yourself.”

I take a tentative step toward his desk. “Are any of those jelly filled?”

He shakes his head aggressively. “Why would I ever get jelly filled?”

I try not to let my pleasure at his correct answer show. “Because, Cliff, some people are just born evil.”

“Too right.” He grins, and I can’t help it when my mouth twitches too. And as I take the first bite of the chocolate donut, the sugary glaze cracking against my lips, my gaze draws to a framed poster of someStar Warsthing. Cliff notices and nods pointedly at it. “That’s a remake, but still really limited.”

I nod as if those words make sense to me and take a step closer. “That frame is huge. It must’ve cost a fortune.”

Cliff crosses his arms, a bit bashful. “Yeah, I like the...” He provides some explanation about “novelty” and “community,” but all I can think about is the amount of effort it must have taken to get a framed poster that heavy hung on these paper-thin walls.

Maybe this whole office arrangement is some psychological move on his behalf. Everyone who comes here will think he’s relatable and just like you or me with these irreverent vibes. This could be a whole operation from head office to get people to think of him as a normal guy.

“It’s so nice.” I try to sound more convincing this time, but the words feel weird and loose on my lips.

“Right.” His hands smack together and pull a plastic chair from the corner of the room, wheels squeaking and resisting their journey. “Have a seat there. It’s time for you to watch a video.”

“And what will you be doing while I watch the video?” I ask.

“I have to watch you watch the video.” His wince is the only clue he’s actually serious.

As I sit down, he goes to adjust the blinds, cutting off the sunlight and plunging the room back into the drabby greige shadows that should really be the Supershops brand colors. My palms start to sweat. “But who is going to watch you watch me?”

His eyelids droop to half-mast. “Nobody.”

“So they’re just going to take your word for it then? Must be nice.”

“I have taken an oath.” His smirk suggests otherwise, but he walksover to his office door and pushes it shut. This whole lights-off, door-closed thing feels a little too covert. “This video can touch on some sensitive and intimate topics,” he says, “so please let me know if you’re feeling uncomfortable at any point.”

“Sorry, but my doctor says I’m not allowed to watch any more porn at work.” I laugh at my joke, but the way his body goes still stops me. Shit. Why oh why would that be the thing I say?

“Excuse me, Jolene?” His head shakes once. My stomach drops. Why did I not practice before I interacted with another human today? “That doesn’t sound like medical advice at all. I think your doctor should stay in their lane.”

I have severely underestimated him.

Every time he quips back, it’s like we’re in on something together. Like we could be friends...

Except we can’t be. Not really.

He pulls up his chair beside me, and I pick up his soft bar soap scent. I try not to picture him using the soap as a professional courtesy to us both.

He clicks on a remote, and the bulky ’90s television monitor crackles to life. The video begins with dreary music as the title flashes across the screen, likely made by an early version of PowerPoint:HARASSMENT AT WORK: DON’T BE PART OF THE PROBLEM.

Next plays a scene where a manager slaps an employee on the butt. I can’t help but chuckle. “This is what they’re still peddling over at the old HR mill?”

Cliff gives a curt nod without looking at me. “There’s no need to comment on the video. There will be a quiz.”

I shrug. “Let me take it now, then. Contrary to popular belief, I’m actually fantastic at not being a harasser. I mostly keep to myself while I’m out there.” I nod pointedly toward the hallway.

He clicks the remote to pause the video and turns to me, resting his hand on the arm of his chair. “I haven’t actually had the opportunity to observe any form of reservation from you.” He raises a teasing eyebrow, then becomes more serious. “But ignoring your colleagues can cause issues too.”