The Science of Growing Apart

6- Casey

It took another week to find a day where everybody was free to meet after work. I'd planned everything through Eleanor, so I still had no contact with Casey and had no idea what to expect that night.

After meeting with Shiloh again at the beginning of the week to inform her of her half siblings and her agreeing to meet with them and get a DNA test, she seemed surprised, as anybody would, but also eager to meet other people who were going through the same experiences as her.

Everything lined up well and the meeting was set for a Thursday evening where the four of us would meet at a quiet restaurant for dinner. I had devised a plan where I'd stay for a drink to help everybody get acquainted, and then excuse myself and allow them to have time to get to know each other without prying ears. It would give them privacy, and keep my communication with Casey to a minimum. Everybody wins.

As my day at work was wrapping up and I continued to mentally prepare myself for the weird dinner I was about to endure, Boris's tall and lanky body began looming over my desk.

"Can I help you with something?" I eventually asked him, absentmindedly twirling a lock of my frizzy hair between two fingers.

"You said you have research done on the Potomac case," he stated. "Where is it?"

"On my computer, why? Shouldn't that article already be submitted?" I wondered in confusion. It'd been almost two weeks since we were given our assignments, so it was weird that he hadn't finished his own research by then.

"I'm running into some roadblocks," he said vaguely. I was curious what those roadblocks were, but I knew he wouldn't tell me. It would hurt his large ego way too much. "Can you send me over what you have?"

"Sure," I agreed easily. "As long as I get credit in the article."

"I'm not going to copy anything that you wrote. Just using it as a jumping off point," he arrogantly shrugged off my request, as if it was a ridiculous ask. Despite the fact that I did all of that research and would have been able to write the article by Monday if it had been assigned to me, and I didn't run into a single 'roadblock', he still seemed to think that my work was beneath his. It was infuriating, but also gratifying that he was coming to me, asking for help. I would have loved to just not give him my research and watch him flounder as the due date was around the corner. However, it would feel even better to know that all of my hard work and research on the story was getting published, as long as I got credit for it.

"Sounds like without my research, you don't have anything to jump off of. So unless I get credit for the work I've already done, you'll have to work through those roadblocks," I said in my most professional, nice voice I could muster. I knew that Boris didn't like me, and I was sure he knew the feeling was mutual, but I tried to keep things as civil as possible.

He definitely didn't like that answer and I watched as his gray eyes rolled into the back of his head and then down again to look at me. I waited stubbornly for my answer, feeling my backbone harden in my seat as I refused to let this middle aged man intimidate me into letting him use my research without giving me any credit for doing the heavy lifting.

Learning how to say no to some demands at work was a long and tough lesson to learn, but once I got the hang of it, it had made my job so much easier. Understanding that I didn't have to give my work away to others without acknowledgment, and that I didn't have to be a team player if it meant everybody succeeding off of my back took a lot of stress off my plate. And by the childish roll of his eyes, I could tell that Boris understood that I wasn't going to let him take credit for my research.

"Well, I want to at least see what you have before I agree to anything. It might not even be usable," he huffed as he crossed his arms defensively over his chest.