Page 6 of Mailroom Delight
“I was drinking with Bernice and… oh God you know what we’re like.” I chuckled, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind my ear.
“You guys are terrible.” He smirked, knowing exactly what I meant, and unfortunately having first hand experience.
Frank had started working here nearly three years ago now, so was well versed in our mailroom antics. It wasn’t just us though.
Other things happened here. Bernice and I were mild in comparison to the other staff. The mailroom’s thick walls and private rooms allowed other secret, saucier, activities to take place. Perfect for those who wanted to take advantage of the no restriction on workplace relationships policy.
“I cleaned up and delivered the letter to Jason. Did you want coffee?”
I was about to answer, because coffee would give me the energy I needed to get home, but my words dissolved in my brain as I registered what he’d just said.
Did he say he delivered the letter to Jason?
Letter…
As in my letter? My handwritten response to his emails that I had no intention of sending to him!
No… it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be.
Not even I was that unlucky right?
“What, um… letter?” I stuttered trying to breathe. Trying not to wither away from the no way in shit could that happen to me moment, and die.
I needed confirmation before I panicked. Frank could be talking about another letter. Right?
One that wasn’t mine… maybe.
“The one with the big old kiss on it.” He grinned and gave me a saucy wink.
“Oh shit!” I cried and dropped my bag. “Fuuucccck!”
“What?” Worry washed over his face.
“He wasn’t supposed to get that.”
“It had his name on it. I just thought it was his,” Frank sighed. “I placed it in his in tray so maybe –”
I didn’t wait for him to finish. My legs took over and I ran at lightning speed through the door.
God in Heaven of all the things that could happen, why that?
Please, please let there be a chance he hadn’t gotten the letter yet.
Please.
This guy already thought I lacked heart and warmth. What the hell would he think after reading my letter that told him he needed to get laid or have a sex marathon.
I remembered everything I wrote with absolute clarity.
No amnesia there, oh no.
I took the stairs two at a time to get to his office on the third floor. The elevator would have been too agonizing to wait on, but probably a better choice since I was completely out of breath by the time I got to the top of the stairs.
Panic, however, boosted me forward.
Good, the floor was quite empty. There were just two janitors from the cleaning company doing the floors, and they were heading down the corridor. The opposite direction to me.
Vanessa, his secretary, also wasn’t at her desk. Thank God.
