Her eyes grow wide. “Oh! I had no idea. Well. You can walk through there, and her office is the third door on your left. It says accounting. You can’t miss it.”
I nod my thanks and reach Molly’s office. I knock and try to turn the knob, but it doesn’t budge.
“Who is it?” comes her voice.
“It’s me.”
Something clatters inside. A moment later there’s a click and the door opens.
Molly sticks her head out, surprise written all over her face. “Nicholas?” It’s almost like she was masturbating or watching porn in there. Who locks their office door?
“Can I come in?” I ask.
“Yeah, sure.” She pulls back and gestures for me to enter.
The office isn’t anything special. It has no windows—which makes the space feel smaller than it is—and is crammed with two metal filing cabinets, a modestly sized desk with a faux-wood top and a wheeled chair that should’ve been replaced a decade ago. Jack apparently doesn’t spend much money on the offices in the back, because the gym area has a lot of the shiny, modern machines that I have in my home gym. The bouquet I sent livens up the space a little. Otherwise, it’s basically a jail cell.
She closes the door, then turns the knob until something clicks.
“Why are you locking the door?”
“Safety reasons.”
Instant alarm blares through me. “What happened?” There could’ve been a stalker or some weirdo with anger management issues.
“Nothing. It just makes me feel more secure.”
Is she downplaying a threat to her safety to make me feel better?But she doesn’t seem scared or anything. Maybe the gym just has annoying people who don’t knock. I had one too, until I fired him for barging into offices and conference rooms once too often. It almost cost us a lucrative buyout.
“Sorry there’s no place for you to sit.”
“It’s fine.” I like having her stand with me, especially in the small office. She’s close enough that I can smell the shampoo in her hair.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“Did you really mean that about the exercise?”
Her gaze drops to her phone briefly, a frown pinching her eyebrows. It’s more of an answer than anything she could say. “Yes. But seriously, I’ll be fine. I’m not going to hurt myself lifting anything heavy, although Jack offered to wait until after work to train me.”
Son of a bitch!“Tell him no.”
“Uh. Now?” She blinks a couple of times.
“Yes. Now, Molly.”
“I wasn’t really going to let him train me,” she says.
“Still. I want you to make your position clear.”
She picks up her phone and texts. Then she shows me the screen. “Here.”
–Me: Can’t make it to the training session after all! Sorry!
“You’re too nice,” I mutter. But then, expecting her to flip the bird to her shitty boss is unrealistic. She’s too sweet.
“Um, I’m planning to do mostly cardio, so…”
“You don’t think you get enough cardio?” I place a hand at her waist and herd her toward her chair.
