It has to be perfect. I have to prove that I’m so good that I’m irreplaceable to the company. Though, in the honesty of my tired mind, I know I want to prove to Mark that when he ditched me, he would never be able to replace me. I need him to see that I was the one that got away.
Who am I kidding? He could replace me. He’s a wealthy, business-owning, gorgeous man with enough charm to fool me and ensnare me again.
A scuffing noise distracts me. The noise is faint enough that I can barely make it out, but as I concentrate on it, it starts to sound more like soft tapping.
I look around me for a weapon. 2Resonance wouldn’t be the first company that’d been broken into despite a high-tech security system. I grip onto my pencil. It’s not the best weapon, but it’s sharp enough to hurt someone.
I follow the noise. Dread churns in my stomach. The fourth floor is surprisingly large and there are no lights on. I head north. The hall is empty. The sound gets louder. I turn west, trying to keep my footsteps as soft as possible.
The noise stops.
I consider returning to my office. It was likely some type of rodent stuck inside the walls or a copy machine letting out its dying gasps. Getting distracted by small noises isn't going to help me make a name for myself in this company.
I turn around, heading back to my laptop. I stop. An image of a man in a black ski mask, raising a steak knife over my head while I'm working, flashes in my mind.
Yep. I can't go back to working yet. If I have to crawl inside the walls myself and pull out a nest of rats, I'll do it. I'll earn a dumb nickname like "that rat chick," but that's better than "that graphic designer that worked for a week before getting murdered."
I creep down the hall, keeping my body low and close to the wall. The noise starts again. It's more distinct now--definitely more of a shuffling sound. I'm getting closer.
I turn the corner. The shuffling stops, but in the darkness, I can see a slightly darker, moving shadow against the wall. It's coming from the kitchen, which has a window that would make enough light to form a shadow.
I take two steps closer to the kitchen. The shadow keeps moving—a homeless person searching for food? Or a violent person hunting for a knife? I should have brought my cell phone to use as a flashlight, but I hadn’t realized the kitchen gets so dark at night. I creep at the edge of the threshold. The intruder starts to move closer and closer.
If I get killed tonight, I’m going to haunt the shit out of Mark.
I lurch forward as the intruder leaves the room. A high-pitched scream nearly knocks me backward. Something clatters onto the floor. I nearly thrust forward with the pencil before I recognize Aaron.
“What the fuck, Aaron!” I shout. “I thought you were a thief!”
He closes his eyes, breathing hard as he places his hand over his heart. “Sweet holy crackers and wine, I don’t know why you’re flipping out. Were you going to punch me? Is that how you deal with thieves?”
He opens his eyes, looking down at my hand. I loosen my grip on the pencil. He glances back up at me.
“Oh, good,” he says. “You weren’t going to punch me; you were going to murder me with a pencil. Who does that to their new co-worker, Zandra? What are they teaching you in New York City? Is that part of the school curriculum?”
“No.” I scoop up his iPod, handing it back to him. It must be what had fallen on the floor when he screamed. “That’s a sandbox lesson.”
“Well, your San Francisco lesson is that a thief would not be dancing and enjoying the soulful voices of Rocklewd,” he says. “And even if they did, you should avoid anyone who would hurt you. The company can replace anything that’s stolen. They’re less equipped to provide emergency services.”
“Okay, I didn’t plan everything perfectly,” I admit. “But you were the one who was dancing in the dark. Who does that? I didn’t even know you were here.”
“I didn’t need to turn on a light. I know this place like the back of my hand, and I was just grabbing a fork,” he says. “And I’ve been working behind you for the last four hours. I’m giving you a negative score for spatial awareness.”
I rub my face with my hands. “I’m sorry, Aaron. I’ve just been hyper-focused on work.”
“I’d accept your apology, but you just tried to kill me, so you’re going to owe me for the rest of my life.” He shakes his head. “A man can’t just take a dance break from his stressful job without someone trying to kill him. God has truly forsaken his children.”
I shove his shoulder. “If I was really trying to kill you, you’d be dead.”
“Oh, Zandra.” He set his hand on my shoulder. “You couldn’t kill me with a nuke and a map—oh, hey, Mark.”
I spin around. Mark is half-hidden in the shadows, but I can see his eyes focused on where Aaron’s hand had been on my shoulder.
“Could I talk to Zandra for a moment, Aaron?” Mark says. Aaron gives him a thumbs up, popping his earbuds back into his ears. The sound of metal music blares through the earbuds as he walks away from us.
“Look, Mark, I don’t want to talk about the emails—"
“You know that workplace relationships are forbidden in 2Resonance, correct?” he asks. His tone takes me aback. I’ve never heard him sound aggressive. But that makes sense when I barely know him.
