Chapter 49
Olivia
Uptight glances don't go unnoticed as I return to the office through the reception area. Nor do I miss the large wide open eyes of my coworkers, or the sideways looks warning of the sudden chill in the air. I don't miss any of the warning signs acting as a precursor to the brewing storm. I just don't know what they mean. Yet.
Many of the other workers have been around long enough to know the power and destruction of the twister about to strike. Any other day I might ask about the heavy silence of hushed inter-office conversations, but not today. My mind is too focused on Dr. Stillwell, Lucas and our pending dinner.
Tense and uncertain, I’m far too preoccupied to hear the roar of thunder rumbling around the office. If I pay attention to any of the signs, I may change direction and veer off course. Instead I head straight to my destination. Straight into the storm.
I move forward, past the receptionist, past the examining rooms and straight into the doctor’s private office. I sit in a chair opposite the desk and fold then unfold my hands wishing I was somewhere else. I want Lucas to make amends with his father, but I’m not sure I want to mediate it.
Especially since her name is sure to come up. I don't want to hear the details of his relationship with Stacy. She is evil. I saw that in her smile.
“Olivia?” Dr. Stillwell startles finding me waiting. “What can I do for you?”
*
I exit the Doctor's office more jittery and nervous than I entered it. The image of Dr. Stillwell’s face alight with hope and joy stands in the foreground of my mind. I only hope dinner will go well and he won’t end up too disappointed.
Once back to my own work area, I find Sandy rifling through the files on my desk.
“It’s about time you’ve returned. And for the record, the break was unauthorized.”
With anxiety spilling over my full line I’m taken off guard. I respond with an offensive posture.
“Excuse me? I didn't realize I have to ask permission every time I get a sip of water. What do you think you’re doing?”
“Looking for the Simpson file you incompetent little twit!”
“It’s not here.”
“I can see that, genius.” Sandy snarls.
I want to rip every strand of Sandy’s dry, over processed hair right out of her head. I want to tell her where she could look for the file, but I don't think she’s that flexible. And I’m somewhat certain that will lead directly to my immediate termination. I choke on my words and smile sweetly.
“The file is on Dr. Stillwell’s desk. He wanted me to bring it to his office when I finished, so he could review it.”
“Yes. I’m aware of what he wants.” Sandy slithers close to me. “And if you had the good sense to do your job the way you’re supposed to, I wouldn’t be in here looking for it!”
“I told you it's on his desk.”
“You’re certain of that are you?” Sandy asks, disdain clear in her voice.
“Yes. I just saw it there five minutes ago.”
Sandy’s eyes open wide, flames of anger shoot out of them. With her mouth small and twisted, she turns on her heel and storms off.
With dinner looming in the near future, my body already aches from the tension filling my neck and shoulders. Great, now I could add Sandy's tirade to my mountain of stress.
*
At five O’clock I stop working and head for the exit. I reach my hand out and almost have the doorknob in my grasp when I hear Sandy shriek behind me.
“I hope you don’t think you’re leaving.”
I turn to face her wondering what prompted this showdown. I do my best to keep my voice clear of any sarcasm. “I’m finished for the day.”
Sandy’s lips press together in a narrow line. Her eyes are small, her voice low and mean as she answers back, “Like hell you are. You owe me time.”
“I have to leave now, I’m meeting . . .”
“I don’t care if you're meeting the president! You are not leaving here.”
I want to answer back in a voice matching Sandy’s in both volume and anger. Instead I fight the impulse to tell Sandy to go to hell. I hold my tongue, knowing Sandy will regret her poor attitude once she learns who I’m supposed to meet.
“I said get back to work. Do you understand me?”
Heads of the few remaining workers poke out of their cubicles and offices trying their best to take in the scene.
I stare at Sandy in silence. This job isn't worth it. I don't care if I get fired. Even if it means Lucas will gloat and think he won. I secretly hope the doctor comes out and puts Sandy in her place.
“Are you mute all of a sudden? Did you hear me?” she yells.
I clear my throat. “Yes.”
“When you speak to me do so with respect.” Sandy’s eyes sear into mine.
Frustrated I stare back, not about to back down. After a deep breath, ready to show my cards, I answer, “Sandy, I think you should know . . .”
She cuts me off, “Let me make one thing clear,” she tries to use her height as a tool of intimidation. Leaning over me, her pointer finger extended, she continues. “I worked long and hard to get where I am. If you think you’re going to come along and spread your legs to get everything I deserve you’ve got another thing coming.”
I almost choke, feeling the crimson of embarrassment rise from my toes to my face. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t play your innocent bullshit.” Sandy’s nostrils flare. “I’m no fool. I’ve been down this road before. I knew it wouldn't work with that brainless Barbie doll,” the older woman continues.
“Stacy?”
Sandy sniggers. “I tried to talk him out if it. But he wouldn’t listen. He should’ve married me. I understand him. I know how to keep a man like him happy.”
At last it’s clear why Sandy suddenly hates me.
“I made this business thrive.” She continues to rant. “I would’ve made him great.” Sandy looks down her nose at me, “But you? At least she has style, flair. She isn’t a little nothing. An insignificant peon.”
My eyes blaze and my hands tremble with fury, “How dare you insult me!”
“I can do anything I damn well please. I run this office. I hire. I fire. And as a matter of fact, I want you to pack up your things and get your sorry, pathetic ass out of here!”
“On what grounds?” I yell back.
“Insubordination.”
“Ah hem.”
We both turn to find Dr. Stillwell standing just inside the doorway, his brow furrowed.
For a moment that takes far too long to pass, no one speaks.
“Sandy, in my office now!” he orders.
She takes a deep breath. “I’m just finishing some business with Olivia.”
“You’re done dealing with Olivia. In my office.” He raises his brows menacingly.
I watch in silence as Sandy steamrolls her way into Dr. Stillwell’s office.