Page 89 of All of Him
“Claude…” I started. “I’m so…why are you here so early?”
“I wanted to make sure I was here when you read that.”
My eyes clouded, the crushing blows to my ego too much to handle. Claude stepped forward and reached out, as if he was asking if it was okay to hug me. I nodded and pulled him in tightly, crying quietly on his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry.”
I backed up at the sound of a distant door slamming shut and wiped my tears. “I can’t be under Brayden McCulley,” I told Claude. “I either need to find a new job or move departments.”
He gestured for me to sit down, then looked around the office to see if anyone else was in.
“I’m working on something to get him removed,” he said.
For a brief second, I felt a flicker of hope, but Brayden was the CFO’s nephew. It didn’t matter what Claude was working on.
“You might be able to help.”
“I don’t know if anything can help,” I said, defeated.
Claude shook his head and leaned in closer, whispering, “Do you have anything that could get him in trouble? Maybe some old emails? I know you aren’t a fan of him, though I never asked why. I just don’t trust this kid at all, and he shouldn’t be leading anyone.”
I thought back to all the douchey things Brayden had said to me over email in the past. There were definitely some snarky tidbits, but I wasn’t sure if there was anything too accusatory. Then, I remembered when he had tried to convince me to go out with him.
“Wait,” I said to Claude, unlocking my computer and pulling my email back up. “Will this work?”
I opened the email I’d just thought of. It hadn’t hit me in the moment that I’d read it, probably because I was used to his antics, but it was certainly inappropriate. It shouldn’t have been brushed off the first time, and I suddenly wondered if I’d been the only target in the office.
Claude leaned over and read the email, his eyes getting wider as he continued.
Hey, Amanda!
You seem like a vodka girl. Well, I’m a vodka guy. We should get martinis across the street some time. Let me know what you think. By the way, you should wear those tight jeans more often.
Yours,
Brayden
“Well,” he finally said, stepping back, appalled, “that’s certainly harassment. I’ll add it to the pile.”
“Pile?” I asked, my stomach sinking again.I hadn’t been alone.
Claude nodded at me solemnly and stood to go back to his office, leaving me in a more confused state than I had been. Quickly, the realization that I’d lost the guy and the job in three days’ time slapped me in the face again.
The sound of Noah walking into his cube disturbed my train of thought, though he didn’t say anything, like he usually did. Instead of getting annoyed with him, I put on my big-girl pants and stood. Turning into his cube, I didn’t even knock on the doorway. I pulled his extra chair out and sat down, waiting for him to pay me any sort of attention. When he finally did, I wanted to cry again.
Noah’s eyes had days’ worth of bags under them, and stubble dotted his jaw. Due to his scar, he hadn’t ever let it grow, afraid of how it would look. I could see why. Hair completely avoided the area of the scar, which had only been haphazardly covered.
“What do you need?” Noah asked quietly, rubbing his forehead.
“You need to check in with me every day. And other than that, I’ll leave you alone.”
His vacant eyes found mine, though I could tell he wanted to say something.
“What have you eaten?” I asked, hearing his stomach growl.
“Cheerios,” he said quietly. “Yesterday.”
“Noah…”
