Chapter 51

“I’m sorry, Esther,” he says, but doesn’t really seem all that sorry with a grin on his face.

“We don’t have a pleasure relationship,” I argue.

He shrugs. “I’ve seen you naked.”

“That was the past.”

He leans forward again. “I still dream about it.”

Just like that, my blush returns full blast. This time, however, I hate myself for it. I need to get away from this impossible man, the sooner the better.

With that mentality, I grab the folder he discarded and stuff it back into my bag. “It was nice talking to you, Miles,” I lie, as politeness dictates.

“Don’t be angry,” he says.

“I’m not.” Anger doesn’t properly describe how I feel. Miles said no. I doubt his reasons are really involve dreaming about me naked, so whatever his true reasons are, he’s keeping them secret.

I can’t possibly be mad at him for refusing my offer for reasons I don’t know about.

My true feelings are a mix of frustration and fear, added with a bit of self-loathing. I couldn’t convince him. Maybe I didn’t research enough. Maybe I didn’t make my argument compelling enough.

A good journalist would have gotten this interview. While I may have gotten close here, I still didn’t secure it. I couldn’t give Miles enough incentive to say yes.

That falls entirely on me. Not him. Not the company. Me.

Maybe I’m really not cut out for this profession after all.

Miles and I don’t share one more word with each other – what’s left to say?

Scrambling to hold onto my dignity, I push out the door, only to find Amber waiting for me outside. She takes one look at my crestfallen face and laughs.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she says.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I push past her and start walking back to the bus stop.

She stays at my heels. “I imagine you don’t, though I am curious what it must feel like to lose everything. Without that interview, you are going to lose your job at the end of your probation, no doubt. And now, who know if Miles will even still want to be friends with you. You threw everything away for this one shot, and then it blew up in your face.”

“Leave me alone, Amber.”

“Tell me how it feels, Esther. Don’t be a baby about it.”

God, I’ve had enough of her poking and prodding. I turn to her, throw up my hands and say, “It feels like shit. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Yes,” Amber says and laughs. A malicious happiness glints in her eye.

I don’t understand her at all. What did I ever do to make her hate me so much that she would revel in my misfortune?

“Don’t look at me like that,” she says. “You know what you are doing. You’ve been angling in on Miles for months. Well, let me tell you, you don’t have a shot with him, got it? He’s been my friend the longest. He belongs to me. If he decides to start dating anyone, it’s going to be me.”

The level of delusion here is so great that I know I should probably just walk away. But there is a part of me, a quiet part, that can’t help but feel bad for Amber. She’s too young to throw all of her time and attention away on a guy who clearly doesn’t return her feelings.

“Amber… If he was going to date you, wouldn’t he have done so already?”

Her laughter catches in her throat. She blinks her eyes open at me and glares at me with new malice.

“Fuck you, Esther,” she says, and pushes past me. I stumble slightly. My bag is pretty heavy so I’m easily off-balance. I right myself before I can fall, however.

Amber storms away, crossing the street to her car.

I stand alone at the bus stop.

By the time I return to the office, Amber’s already back and has spread the word of my failure.

“Tough luck, Esther,” Lila says from where she stands in her doorway. A few heads peek up over the cubicles to look at me.

Everyone wants to see the spectacle of my misery. I try to disappoint them by keeping my face a blank mask.

Moving to my desk, I sit there without saying a word. This time, Lila comes to me, a pile of papers under her arm. She slaps it down on the corner of my desk.

“A few things to research to keep you busy,” Lila says. She adjusts her glasses and then leaves.

I wonder if this is her idea of kindness. After a rejection like that, keeping myself busy with work seems like a good idea.

But… looking over to the stack of papers, I can’t help thinking that I’m just kidding myself here.

Since I failed to get the interview with Miles, there isn’t a thing in the world I can do to stay beyond my probationary period. I was given one chance, and I blew it.

Why stick around for two months, when I know I’m just going to be let go? The experience, I suppose, looks good on my resume, but with the daily mockery, the aggravation, the taunting and the teasing. The lack of any real assignments. The work I do complete immediately stolen.

If I resign now, I’m sure I could return to the country club. One call to Mr. Carver is all it would take. I wouldn’t make as much but the position would be stable and I’d have more fun doing it.

I want to be a reporter, but that’s not what I am here. And clearly, while I’m here, that’s something I will never be.

I’ll have to apologize to Hugo. I made him go through all of this effort of taking me on just to bail out before the three months is up.

I’ve had enough though. I’m tired.

On my computer, I open a new word processor window and start typing.

I write the date, and then format a letter to Hugo.

With deep regret, I must inform you that on this date, I, Esther Graham, officially resign from –

My desk phone rings, startling me from my spiraling thoughts. Lifting the phone, I bring it to my ear.

“This is Esther.”

“Everyone is to report to meeting room A in ten minutes,” says a woman I don’t recognize. That’s not alarming though. The company is full of people I don’t know yet. Likely this is one of Hugo’s assistants. From what I can tell, he has many to help him through his busy day.

“Is it some kind of emergency?” I ask.

“An announcement,” the woman says. “Please excuse me, I must make other calls.”

“Of course, thank you.” I hang up the phone.

What kind of announcement? Phones ring throughout the cubicle pit, like a wave from one side to the other. All of the reporters are likely receiving the same call as me.

After Amber gets the call, she practically skips over to my desk. She seems to have recovered from her earlier upset, at least enough to start mocking me again.

“You have no idea what’s coming, do you?” Amber laughs. “You’re getting fired.”