Meanwhile, I feel as though I'm about to come out of my skin.
When I had shown Elise the email notification this morning, she had shrugged, unbothered.
"They probably just want us to sign the paperwork for our relationship," she said as she kissed my bare shoulder. The contact of her lips made me flinch, and I watched helplessly as she crossed the room and pulled her silk robe on.
Our potential executioners sit across from us.
"Alright, let's get started,” Rue Peterson says sharply.
Rue is our head of HR. She’s no-nonsense, in her late forties, with red hair pulled back into a slick bun. She's dressed in a gray pantsuit and white shirt, and her narrowed green eyes pin me to my seat.
City Manager Joe Collins, sits next to Rue. Joe is in his sixties, a happy-go-lucky man known to many as theCity's Dad.With thinning salt and pepper hair on his head and a rather jolly build, there's a reason he plays Santa Claus every year at the Christmas Parade.
I've known him since I was a child, as Joe played football with my dad at Starling Cove High. Today, there's no joyful smile on his face, no cheery“good morning, Starling Cove family,”greetings, just a clenched jaw and hands that won't stop shuffling the papers on the table in front of him.
On the speakerphone in the center of the table is my Union Rep, Darren, who is required to be on the line for the meetingto support me. I reached out to him in my office earlier this morning to consult before the meeting and explain the entire situation. Bluntly, he told me that I had fucked up badly, but assured me that they most likely couldn’t and wouldn’t fire me. Elise, though, since she wasn’t in the Union, could potentially be let go, and most likely would be. I didn’t even get a chance to warn her before the meeting.
Knowing what to expect didn’t ease the fear churning in my gut.
I feel like I'm twelve years old again, sitting in the principal's office while they call my parents. Not that my parents would even answer the phone with anything regarding me at the moment. Or my friends, for that matter. And from the looks I received this morning, no one in town seemed particularly happy to see me either.
We stopped atRise N’ Grindthis morning before work, and my coffee was practically shoved into my hand by the redheaded barista with a hissed, "Have the day you deserve."
I also noticed my name written on the cup, which looked suspiciously like'Fail'rather than 'Paul'.
When Elise and I walked into City Hall, the friendly security guards at the front didn't spare me their usual“good morning, Mr. O'Connor,”and they ignored my own polite greeting. On the way to my office, my normally friendly colleagues turned their backs on us or whispered with sharp, disapproving eyes.
Elise seemed to not notice, just headed to her own desk as I went to my office to anxiously wait.
The subject of the meeting wasn't in the email, but I already know what they want to talk about. The dread in my stomach grows by the minute. I know what my family would call this: karma, the chickens coming home to roost, and... well, they would be right. As much as I don't want to admit it.
My fiancee, my apartment, my family, my friends, the futureI'd been planning—I threw it all away.
“Darren, can you hear us?”
“Yes, Rue,” Darren’s voice crackles through the speaker.
Rue nods before continuing, her eyes boring into mine. "Let me be direct, your relationship was brought to our attention through multiple complaints—"
"Rue, with all due respect," Elise starts, her voice even and composed, almost bored. "Paul and I are consenting adults. What we do on our own time—"
Rue cut her off with a raised hand and a humorless smile. "—would be your business, if it didn't violate a policy designed to protect this office and its workers. Ms. Cabot, you're in Public Relations. Mr. O'Connor is a City Planner. Your departments overlap constantly. You take frequent work lunches together. You work closely on projects. You can see the optics are bad."
"There are emails. Damning emails, backed up by multiple witnesses and evidence," Joe leans forward, his face deadly serious.
"Emails?" Elise and I meet each other's eyes in shock before I ask. "Who are they from?"
"We can't tell you that."
"If someone's been stalking us, this is serious—" Elise starts, her tone defensive, but Rue cuts her off.
"There are multiple eyewitness accounts of you two looking very close. Many corroborate the same claims, timelines adding up in a way we didn't like. Eyewitnesses who have seen you in public places during work hours, engaging in very intimate behavior. Hotel visits while on the clock. Restaurant dates while on the clock. Also, we have employee testimony to your... closeness."
I'm an animal caught in a trap, desperate to chew my own leg to get out, and I turn to Joe, "This is bullshit. Joe—"
"No, Paul, what’s bullshit is what’s in these letters sent to me,"Joe snaps, taking me by surprise. He looks at me with blatant disappointment, and I can't help but flinch. I've never heard him raise his voice like this at anyone, let alone me.
Joe had been one of the first to congratulate me after meeting Sophie for the first time at his family’s 4th of July barbecue. He told me to hold on to her, that she's quite the catch, and he hoped that we would be as happy as he and his wife of forty years. I had puffed up like a peacock at the time, soaking in the heavy praise from this man I respected deeply.
