Page 56 of The Vegas Rerun
“Sit down,” I command.
She frowns at me and stays on her feet.
“What’s this about?” she says.
“I said sit down,” I reiterate.
She obeys, but slowly, like she’s doing me a favor. Like this is a game and she’s just biding her time until she gets bored of playing with me. Well, if it is a game, she just lost it. She’s not the player she thinks she is. And her poker face is shit.
I close my office door and then I cross the room, step behind my desk. My palms rest on the polished wood surface, and my knuckles are white with the tension.
“You’re done here,” I say.
She blinks, and the shock at my words is evident on her face. I think it’s the first genuine expression I’ve seen on her face in ages, certainly today, and she covers it quickly.
“Excuse me?” she says.
“You’re fired,” I say, simplifying it for her so she can’t pretend to not know what I’m talking about this time.
The words slam into the room like a thunderclap. Sarah stares at me, stunned for a second. Then her mouth curls into a bitter smirk.
“You can’t be serious,” she says.
I don’t respond. I can’t believe she’s still trying to brazen this out.
She laughs, a sharp, disbelieving sound, and she shakes her head.
“I’m the best general secretary you’ve got. Half of the people here couldn’t organize a sock drawer without me. And what? You think you can just throw me out because Molly tripped over her own feet?”
“You’re wrong on two counts there. Frieda is the best general secretary I’ve got by a long shot. And Molly didn’t trip,” I say, my voice like stone. “You pushed her.”
The smirk vanishes.
“I don’t know lies people have been spreading about this, but …”
I am so sick of this bitch lying to my face and I cut her off.
“There is CCTV in the stairwell, and I saw the footage, so you can drop the act now.”
She goes still. Like something behind her eyes just froze up.
I lean forward, my movements slow and deliberate.
“You went into the stairwell with her. You hit yourself. You argued. You shoved her. You watched her fall. And you fucking smiled when she landed.”
She opens her mouth, shuts it, opens it again.
“You don’t understand. She was threatening me. You didn’t hear what she said, what she claimed was going to do to me,” she says.
“And yet earlier, you failed to mention that. In fact, you said she attacked you,” I say.
“I meant she attacked me verbally,” Sarah says.
She is so determined to cling to this fantasy that she will say anything. If it wasn’t this serious, it would almost be funny.
“I’m done listening to you. I don’tcare what your latest lie is,” I snap. “The facts are that you assaulted a colleague. You nearly killed someone at work for fucks’ sake.”
She pushes up from the chair, rage rising from her like steam.
