Page 15 of Matched with Her Runaway Groom

It’s official. I’m losing it.

“What do you need, Ike?” I say, hoping to move this along. There is so much still to do at home with laundry and packing that I don’t want to be here all night.

He settles onto the corner of his desk, a glint in his eye and so relaxed that it alerts me something is wrong. Usually he berates me for coddling people like Marsha or for not getting the required number of calls in from our team. Then I have to combat that by quoting the true statistics: that my team might not have the calling volume of other departments, but we’ve definitely pulled in more revenue than the rest.

“When do you leave for your cruise, Rachelle?”

I scrunch my nose, trying not to have an outburst this close to my vacation time. “Friday morning. I didn’t realize you knew it was a cruise.”

His devilish smile makes my skin crawl. “Wanda and I have been on a few dates. She filled me in on what your vacation request was for.”

I frown, unable to keep the fake smile going any longer. “Why does it matter where I go?”

“Well, it doesn’t anymore. Consider yourself unemployed.”

My heart beats out of my chest for a few seconds before I can regain some composure.

“Excuse me? What do you mean?”

“You’ve booked yourself for more paid time off than you have, which means you no longer need to come into work here.”

I raise an eyebrow, a bubble of laughter rising in my throat. “You’re firing me because I’m taking too much time off? Isn’t this a little premeditated? Like, you should wait until I actually come back to do this, you know, to make sure I actually stay that length of time?”

I’m standing now, my arms folded across my middle and I stare him in the eyes, standing up on my one heel.

He backs off the desk and works his way around to the other side. “It’s just a formality then, Rachelle. Thank you for your service here, but you can collect your things and go.”

I shake my head. “I think I’ll go pay a visit to Lisa in HR. I’m sure she’s got something to say about this.”

Ike scrambles to shut the door before I can get it open. “No, no need for that.”

I stare at him, noting the crooked nose and the smell of fish on his breath. Breathing out of my mouth is the only way to keep me from gagging.

One more look at him and something inside me breaks free. “You know what, I’m good. I quit. I’m sure whoever you have lined up for my position will be ready for it. Tell him or her good luck with Marsha. She’s going to need a gentle hand to get—”

“Wanda will take over and she’ll be able to handle Marsha.” Ike tips his head back an inch, trying to adjust the height difference between us.

I’m not sure where it’s coming from, but something simmers in my stomach. This man who’s been trying to torture my life for the past year has now gone too far.

“You think your girlfriend can handle this department better than I do?” I pause, giving him a moment to answer. When he sputters, I continue. “I understand this company is all about numbers, but there are some things more important than those, Ike, and that’s the people you have working for you. Have you noticed the turnover rate since they appointed you manager? It’s skyrocketed. Just know, you’re driving away people who can make this business successful while also helping the companies we represent. Hopefully, you don’t learn that too late.”

He removes his hand from the doorknob and slinks back against the wall. I open the door, feeling the high of finally expressing my feelings to one person I’ve needed to for months.

I wish my exit was a little more gallant as I hobble into the hallway.

It doesn’t take long to gather up my things from my small office/cubicle, evidence of how I never really felt settled. As scary as it is to not have a job, at least I have roommates who will help me pay the rent until I find another job.

Let’s just hope that doesn’t take too long.

CHAPTER6

Rachelle

Istand at the bus stop, holding onto a paper box filled with the contents of my desk. At least I didn’t go all out on decorations for my cubicle or I’d be needing a truck.

I push away my anger and debate going to the grocery store while I’m out to buy laundry detergent. And as the box gets a bit heavier, I pull the pictures and certificates I want to keep out of the box and tuck them into the extra large bag I brought today. The rest of it goes into a street trash can.

I’m sure that can be translated into some sign in my life, but I’m still too heated to think about it symbolically.

---