Page 52 of The Librarian of Souls
“Where is the bid proposal for the Riverside Development?” he asks.
“I can check with the team, but I am not sure anything has been finalised yet. We only had the meeting Friday,” I explain, and from what I understand, the meeting didn’t go great.
“What do you mean it’s not done?”
“Well, their board was trying to cut certain corners to get a cheaper price. We are reviewing with our suppliers-”
“I want this contract. What part of that didn’t you understand, darling?” He leans forward in his chair. An icy shiver creeps across my skin, and my stomach muscles cramp. I don’t know when he decided that’s what he was going to call every woman in the office, but I wish to god he wouldn’t. “It’s not that fucking hard. I could have a deal done and dusted by now.”
“I understand, Patrick-” I force the words out as my chest tightens.
“Jo, you’ve been here long enough,” he starts and rocks churn in my belly. Oh god, he’s gonna fire me. “You should know how to speak to clients.”
“But I wasn’t-”
“First the fuck up at the armoury site, then your ridiculous sick leave, the fucked accounts.” He rubs a hand over his tanned cheeks and leans back in his chair. “It just feels like you aren’t really here any more.”
“No, I am,” I insist, like this job hasn’t aged me, or I haven’t lost sleep because of it. Like it hasn’t taken over my whole damn life. “I swear, Patrick.”
“I know it isn’t easy. Lance has-”
My phone blares the annoying ringtone I have set for Gary’s site. Patrick makes a gesture for me to answer it.
“Hey, Gary, now really isn’t a good time,” I start, eyes darting between my paper-covered lap and my boss.
“It’s worse here, Joanna. You’re gonna need to come down to the site. I- uh, found something, and you need to see it.”
My blood runs cold. Something in the air changes, or maybe it’s just me heading further towards a panic attack, but I suddenly weigh two hundred extra pounds. I look over at Patrick again, and he just looks bored. I swallow, trying to get rid of the scratchy feeling in my throat.
“Alright, I will be there as quick as I can. Do you need me to call anyone or bring anything?”
“No, uh… just get here, and you can decide what you wanna do.”
Gary hangs up without saying goodbye. He has never sounded so unsure of himself before. Gary is always sure and confident in his work despite how terse he can be, and crotchety. He can be trusted to get the job done right and without incident. The fact that this job keeps having issues is like a dark omen. This is my job, my contract. I have worked so hard on this project, and everything just keeps falling apart.
“I have to go to a site, Patrick. I’m sorry. Gary’s having an issue.” I start to stand up, my notebook closed. There really isn’t a point in continuing this conversation. Patrick has said what he expects, and I will have to talk to the lead on the project about the bid and take over to make sure it gets done today. I’ll text Augustine when I get done at the site and tell him I’ll be spending the night at my flat instead of the library.
“Gary can fucking wait. That son of a bitch always has something to complain about.”
“Patrick-”
“Joanna, I’m putting you on notice.”
My ass falls back into the chair and pain radiates up my sides. For a moment, I don’t think I understand him. What the fuck does he mean by ‘putting me on notice’?
“You’ve always been an asset to the company, darling. You’re like family.” Alarm bells go off in my head, my ears are ringing, and the rocks that were rolling around in my stomach take a nosedive right into my shoes. “But you’ve been all over the place since you’ve been back. You’ve got a month to get your shit together, or we are going to have to have a harder discussion.”
“Patrick, no, you can’t. I-”
“Joanna,” he sighs like this is causing him some great pain, but the life I’ve known is falling apart right before me. He’s ripped the rug right out from under my feet.
“I can’t lose this job. I have given you everything. I-”
“Ship up, or ship out.” He turns to his laptop while I just sit there, stunned. “Doesn’t Gary need you?”
I don’t start crying until I am in the elevator. My cardigan is draped over my arm and my heavy purse pulls the neckline of my dress so far to the side my ugly, old bra strap shows. Hidden just under that was the scar left from the bite Augustine gave me. The flesh is completely healed now, much faster than what is probably normal, but it is raised and slightly discoloured.
The mirrored walls won’t let me hide away from my emotions. I see every part of me, every exhausted and overworked roll and pudge that my wrap dress can’t hide. The way my shoulders are hunched from staring at my computer for too long. The blotchy red quality of my skin only worsens as tears and snot drip from my face. My hands shake as I move to whip them away. I dig through my purse for a tissue and find a fabric handkerchief with Augustine’s monogram embroidered on it. The gesture only brings more tears to my eyes.
