Page 73 of Phishing for Love
“Oh, crap,” Sofia says, noticing. “What did you do?”
“I thought the email was a scam,” I whisper.
The horror on their faces has my shoulders slumping.
“Please tell me all you did was delete it,” Kenzie begs.
“I really wish I had.”
And then Sofia asks the question we’re all dancing around: “Did you reply to the email?”
I stare at her, stricken. “I did.”
“I’m too scared to ask what was in your reply,” Kenzie says.
I bury my face in my hands, speaking through my fingers. “I might have made comments like ‘moron’ and ‘ugly bulldogs’ and ‘how gullible do you think I am?’”
There were other phrases as well.Shove your stupid charity and your stupid bulldogs up your stupid...Oh, I can’t bear to think about it.
Both Sofia and Kenzie make a brief, feeble attempt to console me, but they seem to realize there’s little they can do to divert the impending firestorm.
“How about I set fire to the building?” Sofia offers. “That might distract Calvin.”
Kenzie bites her lip. “Calvin’s anger will blow over eventually.”
“I could kill Aaron for this!” I burst out. “He’s made me suspicious of every message I get.”
The weight of my mistake rests heavily on my shoulders. I imagine the stares, the whispers in the hallways. I release a shaky breath. “I better get this over with.”
Sofia and Kenzie hug me, and I traipse to Calvin’s office, my heart beating too fast, dead woman walking.
I can tell from Dana’s face that the extra five minutes she afforded me has not managed to calm Calvin down. She tells me to go straight in.
I square my shoulders, knock on his door, and step into his office.
Calvin looks up the moment I walk into his office, his expression thunderous. “What’s the meaning of this, Tess?” he demands,waving a piece of paper, which I assume is a printout of my ill-fated email. His face is so red I fear an imminent cardiac arrest.
Standing in front of his desk, I clasp my hands in front of me like a penitent nun. “I thought your email was one of Aaron’s phishing tests.”
“Then why didn’t you just click the Phish Alert button?” he asks testily.
Such a reasonable question. Unfortunately, my behavior was so unreasonable I lack any sort of rational explanation.
“I don’t know.”
“And why did you say those things about bulldogs?” He sounds the most hurt by that.
“I didn’t mean them.”
His eyebrows vault halfway up his forehead. “Yet you wrote them. And then you hit Send.”
“Only because I was so mad.” I make a vague gesture in the air. “You know, at the whole scam thing. And Aaron’s never-ending phishing tests.”
He looks at me like I’m deranged. I’m feeling a little deranged, to be honest.
“Your behavior was unprofessional,” he accuses me, tight-lipped. “It still is.”
His words kick me sharply in the stomach. “I’m sorry.”
