Wrights And Wrongs

Chapter 3

I wake up to the dulcet melody of my alarm screeching in my ears like a banshee. I'm not sure if I really need an alarm, because one of the many great things about living in Queens is that the city noise is your own personal alarm. The angry cab drivers never fail to wake you with their car horns and their highly impressive vocabulary of curse words. The city noise is just the gift that keeps on giving. I groan and reach over to blindly tap my phone screen until the alarm turns off.

On top of having the world's worst sleep schedule and the most irritating alarm in the entire galaxy, I am bestowed with the realization of my imminent doom: I have work today. Fabulous.

I fall out of bed, go to my dresser, and open the drawer that has all of Mama's hand-me-down work clothing, even though they don't even need a drawer because of how few clothes are in there. I slip on one of the few white blouses and a pair of pants. I have learned my lesson with the pencil skirt.

I brush out my hair and dab some red lipstick on my lips and cheeks. Mama taught me that trick. She says it brings the color back into my pale, corpse-like face.

She didn't say that my face was pale or corpse-like, but I had the feeling that was what she meant. I'm not even pale, but for some reason, all the pigment seems to fade from my face as I sleep.

Maybe I die in my sleep every night and come back to life in the morning. Honestly, I wish I didn't come back to life so I didn't have to go to leave my apartment in 5 minutes, and hop in a cab to go to work, because even though it is close enough for me to walk, my feet are blistered and I'm willing to pay the extra money this time to salvage them in any way I can. Unfortunately, these are the cards I've been dealt with. I love life.

I grab a granola bar and a banana from the kitchen. Despite all that this job has taken and will take from me, I will never let it take away my freedom to breakfast. There's no time for coffee, but I'll get some during work. Surely the office has a kitchen with a coffee machine.

I put on the same nude pumps knowing that it's a stupid decision, but honestly they make my calves look so good that I have decided I'm giving them another chance. With my breakfast in one arm and my briefcase in the other, I snatch my keys and head out the door.

—--------

I'm late when I enter the office. The Uber I called took a pit stop on its way to me. On top of that, there was traffic. There's almost always traffic in New York. The Uber driver taking a pit stop plus traffic equals awkward late silence and a judgy boss. I don't know why I thought my second day would be off to a better start.

Mr. Wright is standing outside the doors of his personal office, waiting to pounce. His gray brows are raised, and his arms are crossed. I inhale, then walk cautiously up to him.

"Good morning Mr. Wright. I am so sorry I'm late. My Uber-"

He sticks a hand out silencing me. "You can sit down and start working. I will have Ms. Hansley send over the documents you need to work on this morning."

Right when I think he's going to walk away, he opens his mouth again.

"I would like you to know that I do not tolerate lateness in my office Ms. Travers, and neither will any other office for that matter." His eyes are narrowed and his demeanor is ice cold as he talks.

"I know and if you'll let me explain-"

"Now I am letting this one slide, because you are new here and I am adamant on giving each employee an appropriate adjustment period."

I chew on the inside of the cheek. There he goes again, interrupting me.

"However, I would like you to know that I am not impressed."