Chapter 30

Well, it’s happened. “Esme, please come into my office for a quick conversation.”

I can’t avoid him any longer. Part of me is relieved that I don’t have to keep running around acting like I’m not ignoring him.

The other part of me is painfully nervous for what he might say.

I take a deep breath outside his door, wipe my sweaty hands on my hips, and knock.

“Come on in, Esme,” he responds.

Entering his office is like a new world for me today. Derek is sitting at his desk in front of his computer like usual. However, his often friendly demeanor is replaced with a flat line where his smile tends to sit.

“Please close the door. Have a seat.”

His tone is straightforward, but thankfully, I don’t think he’ll be asking me about when he last saw me in his own home.

“Esme,” he starts off, his fingers coming together and his hands resting on his desk. “I wanted to ask you about one of the projects you’re working on.”

Okay. Seems easy enough.

“Sure, which one?” See, I can play pretend like everyone else.

“The deal with our partner company, Max. There’s supposed to be caught up on all the paperwork, but I just got a call that none of it has even been sent over?”

He raises an eyebrow as I begin to sweat. Shit, I can’t believe I let something this enormous slip my mind!

“Oh.” It’s all I can get out, feeling embarrassed and ashamed by his simple questions.

Derek watches me, probably expecting me to say more to him than one simple word. But I don’t because my anxiety is starting to wind its way around my neck and keep me from speaking.

“You do understand that I put you on with Max because you’re one of our strongest employees, correct?” Derek questions, leaning back in his chair with his gaze still fixed on me.

I nod. “Of course, sir.”

“So, can you please explain to me what happened?”

No, I actually can’t. Because the reason things got so screwed up for this project is because that was the day I found out I was pregnant.

I was supposed to send over all the paperwork. Instead, it must be sitting on my desk or in a filing cabinet somewhere, waiting to be freed.

“I don’t have an explanation, Mr. Anderson,” I give back, dropping my eyes to the desk so we’re no longer looking at one another.

“And why is that?”

I clear my throat. “The day in question, where I was meant to send out the papers, was interrupted by some personal things.”

I don’t look up, but Derek doesn’t respond immediately. Is he thinking or taking into account that he knows how messed up my divorce has already been?

“While I understand your current personal situation outside of the office, that is still not a valid excuse for a project that means a lot to this company.”

I can hear the rising frustration in his voice, but I know there’s no point arguing, so I stay silent.

“Esme, I know your personal life is currently in turmoil. I have been where you are right now. But I also know you are better than this small mistake that could cost us thousands to fix.”

He’s not wrong, but I still don’t look up at him. I feel as though I’m just shrinking.

“What happened on the day you didn’t send those papers?”

My stomach churns at this question. Because, of course, he has to ask me this.

In truth, my personal life isn’t any of his business, and I am within my rights not to give him an answer that is the truth. But if Derek finds out I’m pregnant, who knows what will happen in my life?

“I was feeling…extremely ill,” I say slowly, finally lifting my eyes up to meet my bosses. He seems to be searching with those dark brown eyes for more.

“Did you go home to rest or take care of yourself?” He asks.

“N-no. I didn’t do that.”

“So, then, your excuse is that you weren’t feeling well, but you didn’t leave work and go home to get any better?”

Now, it’s my turn to be confused. “That would have been silly. I wasn’t feeling well, but I didn’t want to leave in the middle of a busy day.”

“Yet the papers were never sent away, and we’re now behind on the project with Max?”

What is he looking for here?

“I’m sorry about the papers, Mr. Anderson. I will get right on them as soon as I return to my office.”

“There’s no need. I’ve already sent the papers over myself.”

Then why is he still grilling me like a steak?

“I’ll make sure my work is diligent from now on,” I state, waiting for my chance to run out of the room and cry in the bathroom.

“I just don’t understand where this is coming from, Esme. You’re never this careless, this sloppy! Suddenly, you’re in charge of a huge project that could do so much for your career, and you blow it!”

Now I’m starting to get irritated at him myself. What does he think he’s doing? Derek is still my boss, but I have never felt so demoralized by him!

“You’re just so perfect yourself, then? You’ve never made a mistake or messed up with anything before? I said I was sorry; you already rectified the situation; what more is there for you to press me on?”

The words are all out of my mouth before I’ve had a chance to really realize what I’ve said. I can’t even believe myself, slapping my hand over my mouth.

Derek’s eyes also grow wide, though I don’t think it was due to the insubordination I have just displayed in his office.

No, his eyes show a lot more than care for a silly outburst.

“I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Anderson, that was so wrong of me to do.”

“What has gotten into you, Esme?”

His question throws me off more than anything he says to me. He’s watching me not with anger or with discontent, but instead, his eyes soften in the fluorescent lighting.

Knowing I need to answer, I clear my throat again. “I’m sorry. Nothing has gotten into me; my divorce has just been tiring.”

“I’ve lived next door to you, shared food and a table with you, played games with you and my children, and had insightful conversations with you. But none of that came from you when you snapped out at me.”

I raise my hands and shake them back and forth to display my sorrow. “It’s taking more out of me than I had anticipated.”

“The divorce?”

“Yes, the divorce.”

“Except I don’t buy that.”

What is with this guy today?

“You’re snapping out at me; you’ve clearly been avoiding speaking to me or being in the same room, and you had some sort of thing happen when you were over. Don’t think you can easily wipe this conversation away from me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie through my teeth.

“Esme, I know you’re struggling, so please, be open with me, explain—”

But I don’t let him finish his sentence. “You don’t know what I’m going through. I can take care of myself, Derek. I don’t need your help.”

It seems I am digging a grave for myself today.

I stand up quickly, hopeful that he can’t see the way I sway in fear.

“Is that all then?” I ask though it comes off as more of a demand than a question.

“You’re dismissed,” he nods, narrowing his eyes as if to indicate he will figure out what’s wrong with me.

“Thank you. I will get on top of things right now.”

I exit his office and roll my eyes at my own stupidity and ignorance.

I hate all of that. Everything that’s just happened. But I’m too scared and, honestly, untrusting to bring him into this world he doesn’t quite understand.

Just as long as I keep him at a healthy distance, we should be fine.

Though, who knows how long that may be.