Page 56 of Fighting Mr. Knight

Nisha swivels in her new shiny chair to look at me sympathetically. “I’m sorry, love. Maybe you should call in sick for the rest of the day? You could pretend you were feeling poorly during the meeting.”

“No.” I sigh, slumping back in my chair. “It’ll probably start more gossip. I’ll just stay here and ride it out.”

The entire situation is ridiculous. That was the first time I’ve witnessed Jack Knight’s wrath and it was directed atme.I always listen in client meetings. Even if I’m tired, I can muster up enough professionalism.

So, I had an off day. The guy had no right to call me out publicly.

The ball of anxiety builds substance in my stomach. Maybe I have gallstones.

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought, right? It probably seemed worse in my head and I’m blowing it up too much. Like the banged-up eye at the wedding.” Which still looks bruised.

Maybe Jack kicks someone out of every meeting. It’s his thing. Barbarian boss persona.

Nisha looks like she’s sucking lemons.

“Just lie, Nisha. So I can get through the rest of the day.”

Her smile is brittle.“Since it’smindful Wednesday, how about we go to a yoga class after work? The guy even does face yoga. That’ll relax you.”

“That’s not lying. That’s changing the subject. And what the hell is face yoga?”

“Apparently it tightens your face muscles. I’m worried I’m getting jowls.”

I roll my eyes. “At thirty, I think you’re okay for another few years. Knight needs it more than us to get rid of that tic in his jaw.”

This is a horrible, sucky day and it’s going from bad to worse. As the others continued the meeting, I loitered outside the room, festering and stewing, wondering what the hell to do. Did he mean for me to leave the office entirely or just the room?

I feel like a schoolgirl on the brink of expulsion. Max dropped the Olivia bomb on me and Jack reprimanded me like a naughty student.

Under other circumstances, this would have been an awesome day.

After the meeting, we got a tour of the Lexington building and access passes. Sean talked to me briefly. Following his advice that Jack would likely calm down in a few hours, I tagged along with imposter syndrome.

Ten of us on the team have been upgraded to fortieth floor views overlooking Canary Wharf until we get the designs nailed. It’s one of the C-Level floors but how or why we got this privilege is beyond me. Everyone is deliriously happy as we set up our I.T. in a corner of the office.

Except for me.

Canary Wharf isn’t packed full of great historical buildings like London’s centre, but the peninsula of chrome-and-glass skyscrapers is our version of New York or Hong Kong.

I don’t know how they get any work done on the Lexington top floors. As it houses the most senior members of the company, I suppose they have time to admire the view while the underlings work below.

There’s a rooftop garden bar on the top floor and a lush gym on the bottom with a spa. An actualspawith wet rooms.

Wet rooms would never work at the Bradshaw Brown office. The fear of running into the two partner cretins would be too great.

In the Lexington office, we get ‘mindfulness day’ every Wednesday when massage therapists offer back and head rubs and there’s free yoga in the gym.Thursdays are designated social days for colleagues with free drinks in the rooftop bar. It’s an illusion of being in a holiday resort, so you forget that you’re stressed as fuck with draining deadlines.

I connect my laptop with the large monitor and then spin my chair around to face Nisha. “I can’t believe that for a fleeting second, I considered saying yes to his dinner,” I whisper. “He was all charm and banter at the wedding, and I thought maybe he’s not that bad.” What happened with my dad was a long time ago. People change,yada yada. “But it’s obvious now. The guy’s a fucking psycho. Kicking someone out of a meeting for being late once? Seriously?”

Nisha leans in. “Look, keep your head down and work your ass off. It’ll be forgotten soon.”

I’m not finished. “I’ve never been kicked out of anything in my life,” I huff. “He humiliated me. Who does that? It’s like primary school; he put me in the naughty corner. Do you think this is because I didn’t fall at his feet at the wedding when he asked me to go for dinner?”

She shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Ugh. I wanna grab his stupid nipple ring and pull it until he screams.”

“Bonnie,” Nisha warns, giving me a stern look. “Pipe down now. We can talk about it after work. Keep your emotions under control.”

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