Chapter Four - Ellie
I slap my hands down on the table and stand up so fast, my luxurious leather office chair goes sliding backwards until it crashes into the wall.
“Miss Hatcher!” my boss yells as he stands up.
I look around at my peers and every bit of my body goes hot as all nine faces stare back at me.
“Are you OK, Miss Hatcher?” McAllister asks from the other end of the table. He’s got a smug look on his face.
I don’t know what just happened, but I need to get out of here. I take a deep breath and smile. “I just remembered. I have…” I have what? Shit. My heart starts racing and I swallow hard. “I have…”
“You have something to tell us, Ellie?” Jennifer Sluts-around asks. And the funny thing is, I think she’s trying to be helpful. “Reorganization, maybe?” Jennifer throws me one of those quirky sideways smiles girlfriends do when things are going terribly awry.
“Um, yeah, I mean…” I stammer.
“Miss Hatcher,” Mr. Sowards says. “Whatever you have to say can wait. Sit down. Now!”
I look around, silently pleading for help, but when my eyes land on McAllister Stonewall, he says, “Yes, Ellie, tell us what’s got you all hot and bothered.”
I shake my head. Nope. Nope. Not gonna do this. I’m quitting today and I’m not going out as the girl who was sexting the boss during a meeting.
“I… I quit.”
Everyone gasps.
“You do not quit, Miss Hatcher,” McAllister says. “You’ve been working here for seven years. You just got a promotion and a new office. So no, you’re not quitting. Sit down and we can discuss this issue later.”
“What?” Where the hell does he get off? And I’m not discussing shit with him later. “No, I have to go. I’m sorry. I forgot to turn off my oven at home. I was baking cookies this morning…” Baking cookies? Jesus, Ellie, step it the fuck up. Do not let him chase you out of here and make these past seven years a joke. “I mean, not the oven, I have a… a dental appointment. My tooth,” I say, tapping on my front tooth. “Needs a root canal. And my cholesterol is high, so I need pre-treatment. And… and then I have to… I have…”
“Ellie,” McAllister says in a stern voice. “Sit down. We’ll discuss it all later. None of that is true and you know it.”
I move away from the table very slowly. Like McAllister is a lion and he might pounce and eat me up at any moment. I use the back of my boss’ chair to steady myself as I inch towards the conference room doors.
McAllister stands too, and he’s coming at me quick. I panic and make a break for it. I reach for the handle on the doors that will swing them wide open just as McAllister Stonewall grips my arm and thwarts my escape.
“Tampon!” I scream as loud as I can.
McAllister lets go, his handsome, perfectly-groomed face filled with confusion. “What?”
“Tampon!” I yell again. “I need a tampon, OK? I didn’t want to have to say it out loud, but you forced me, Stonewall. So I will see you people… whenever. Get out of my way because I quit and I need a tampon!”
The magic word. It does the trick. Everyone in the room except McAllister erupts in laughter. But whatever, I’m outta there. I dash across the top floor heading towards the elevator.
“Ellie Hatcher!” McAllister Stonewall yells. “Stop right where you are!”
Oh, my God. The whole fucking place is looking at me. There are at least fifty creatives working on this floor alone. And when I look down at the people on the sixth floor below, there are dozens of faces looking up too. People start whispering loudly as I try not to fall apart.
“Ellie!” Stonewall says again. “Wait!”
I look at the elevator, then the stairs. But the only way out of here without a confrontation in front of a hundred people is… the slide.
I break for it, almost twisting an ankle as I run. Stonewall’s feet thunder on the marble tiled floors behind me and I know he’s close. He’s going to catch me and there is no way in hell I’m talking to that man ever again. I get to the slide just as his fingertips brush against the fluttery silk of my blouse sleeve. But I grab the handle as I swing my feet and legs in, and then I whoosh myself into the seven-story slide.
I scream, then laugh in triumph as I make my escape. It’s fast and exhilarating. Thrilling even. Why have I never done this before? The first twist comes up, and I slow slightly. “Whooo!” I yell in the slide. “Hahahahaha!”
When I come out of the second twist, it’s a steep drop and I pick up speed.
That’s when my skirt starts to ride up my thighs. My legs are all sweaty from the embarrassment and confrontation.
No. No, no, no. You cannot get stuck in this—
But I slow down as the friction between my skin and the slide starts to hinder my escape. The incline isn’t as steep now either. So there’s no chance of building momentum. I must be near the ground floor.
A few seconds later I come out of another turn and I’m slowing down so fast, I have to start scooting forward.
Shit. Why me? Why couldn’t this happen on Pencil Skirt Monday? A pencil skirt would not ride up.
Pretty soon there it’s obvious that there is no hope of sliding down the rest of the way, so I take off my shoes and throw them down the slide ahead of me, then contort my body and wiggle around until I’m face first on my hands and knees.
And I crawl.
I crawl forward, fling my shoes, then crawl some more. I calculate how long I’ve been in the slide and come up with no more than a minute. I’m gonna make it. I crawl faster, throwing my shoes through the last turn. They go tumbling out of sight as I pick up my pace. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Literally. I am seconds away from freedom when a pair of legs come into view.
No. Please.
I stop crawling so fast and make my way towards the end of the slide where the top cuts away and yes.
There he is. Waiting for me. My Jimmy Choos directly in front of him. My pretty pink clutch, tablet, and phone in one hand as he extends the other out towards me.
“Are you quite finished now, Miss Hatcher?” he says, a scowl on his face.
I take a deep, deep breath as I finish my crawl and accept his hand to help me out, because my other choice will probably land me on my face, ass in the air. And my skirt is still very much bunched up near my hips.
His hand grips mine, sending a shock of fear through my body, and steadies me as I get to my feet. He waits in silence as I adjust my skirt and slip my shoes on my feet so he’s not towering over me. Not as much anyway.
“Thank you, Mr. Stonewall,” I say, grabbing my clutch and devices from his hand. “Thank you,” I repeat, because I have no other words. “Now goodbye.”
“No,” he says, both of his arms corralling my upper body to prevent my second attempt at escaping. “This is completely ridiculous behavior, Miss Hatcher. My office now.”
It’s not a question, it’s a command. And that just pisses me off. “What part of I quit don’t you understand? I’m not going to your office, I’m going home. Now get your hands off me and get out of my way.”
I shove him aside, take a deep breath, not looking at any of the hundreds of employees who have now gathered to watch what’s happening, and walk off towards the escalator that leads down to the train station.
I look down as I approach the escalator, hoping against hope that it will be empty, but there’s at least a dozen people looking up at me.
Shit.
I veer off towards the stairs that will take me down to the transport garage. I will just hijack a golf cart and drive myself back to the hangar. I have full access to the keys thanks to Brutus.
I grab the handle, swing the door open, and leave that bastard of a boss behind.