Cupid's Contract

Chapter 69: Damn You Fine

"Pardon me?" Harper Senior had turned the gaze on Eve now, instead, and from the corner of her eye she spotted Drew's frantic face. He was white knuckle gripping the table, and he was shaking his head in the faintest of movements.

If ever there was a sign to shut up and sit down, that was it.

But Eve no longer believed in signs. Not since she had started working for Cupid and realised that everything was preordained by a grubby old locket.

"No, I will not. There is not a single scenario where the way you are speaking right now is pardonable. If this was a less civilised country I would demand your tongue."

She really shouldn't have binged on Game of Thrones last night, but there was no escaping the fact that she now had the ferocious ire of Cersei Lannister running through her veins. But without the weird brother infatuation. Obviously. Eve didn't even have a brother.

Focus, Eve.

"You're lucky I have some class about me, Dick, and if you pipe down and pay real close attention maybe some will rub off on you."

Now people were leaning away from her, too. Drew and Eve had nice roomy personal boundaries around them, like the generous space one gives the first person who sniffs after a SARS outbreak is announced.

"First of all, we need to discuss the way you speak in general. This is not Pride & Prejudice and you are certainly not Mr. Darcy. The only high horse you are allowed ride is the one in People's Park, and it's made of plastic and operated with coins. We are members of your staff, not slaves you can belittle when you're having a bad day."

Eve could've sworn Beige Shoulder Pads coughed out a 'here here' but there was no time to high five each other, she had more words gurgling up her throat.

"While we are correcting your mannerisms, take a look around. The fact that there are only two females in the room is shocking in this day and age. You only brought me in here to patronise my project, and Shoulder Pads is here to take notes. If you can't see something wrong with this, it's time to up the strength on your glasses, old man."

Good Lord, who raised her with this sass? It wasn't right.

Eve gulped down another lungful of air.

"My name is Molly."

The whole room whipped around to look at Shoulder Pads. She was visibly trembling but her jaw was set firmly.

"It's not Shoulder Pads, and it isn't Sally and it really isn't Holly. I've worked here for five years, and you still don't get my name right."

This was directed and Senior, but Eve still felt chastised. Shoulder Pads - er, Molly, was a victim here too.

"Preach, my sister." She raised a hand in solidarity, before resuming taking notes in her little book.

"Next on the agenda," Eve continued, "is your inability to appreciate the hard work we all do here, including your son, who was not at fault in any shape or form, for the missing money."

"Eve, stop, really - " Drew was giving her serious 'shut it' eyes, and later on Eve would be proud of her ability to ignore the powerful pull and continue her verbal spiral towards doom.

It took a lot of gumption to stare into perfection and ignore it.

"Johnny is an ignorant little snake, but he's a clever one. He is so sneaky my actual skin feels greasy around him, but when it comes to marketing he is a disgusting smarmy genius. He is also the one who took the money box, but we'll get to that in a moment."

Johnny's scrunched his face, thrown by the compliment buried under the vitriol, and adapted a taut expression that reminded Eve of a constipated toddler.

"Gerald, the old dude in Research that you don't even allow in your meetings anymore? He's the biggest nerd I've ever met. He can work out the probability between death and taxes, and remembers every fact and figure in between, and actually makes it interesting. Not that you'd know, because you also banned him from conferences because he doesn't fit our new young hip image. Hate to break it to you, Harper, but if it's his age you're afraid of, he is younger than you, and he looks it too."

Eve was now fully on her feet, every muscle aching from the effort of expelling all of these toxic missives. It was an out of body experience, and she hovered over herself, watching as an outsider, munching on popcorn and crowing gleefully at the carnage she was causing.

"And don't get me started on Noreen, who runs Accounts with an iron fist that has crushed small minded berks like you a thousand times over. Albert here, who is useless with numbers and can't work a bloody calculator, gets to come to these pissing contest meetings because he is down an X chromosome, and Nors is the only reason we were able to make that ludicrous budget for redecorating these stupid rooms work! I mean, I'm glad she isn't wasting her time in here but it would be nice if you even noticed that she is Point Dexter in a Chanel pantsuit."

She swiped at the sweat that had formed over her upper lip, and lunged at the pitcher of water, gulping it straight from the jug and splashing it on the table as she went. Who knew verbal diarrhoea could work up such a thirst?

"But I think the most important issue here is how you treat your son. As an employee, he has grounds for a suit against you. I can promise you that, as your Human Resources manager. This case wouldn't last a second in court. As a fellow Human Being, you suck. As a father? You are even worse. The fact that you were allowed procreate is reprehensible and I'll be bringing it up with Zeus when we hook up, don't you worry."

Drew had given up on giving Eve threatening looks and was now gaping at her with what may have been awe, but was heavily mixed with horror. Meh, Eve was pretty used to the latter. Besides, she was covered in splotches of water and parts of her top had gone sheer from it. She wasn't exactly un-horrifying to look at.

"From the moment Drew came to this company I have hated him. He was too intelligent and too damn good at his job. He has been a threat to me since Day One, when you patronised him in front of the whole staff with childhood nicknames and subpar cake. But your son has worked harder than anyone to prove his worth and you're a fool for not seeing that. He has been lovely and kind, and a little too sarcastic at times but I'll allow it, and as much as I hate him I really don't know how we functioned without him. As much as I hate him, I adore him because he's a damn saint for coming into this chaos and for putting up with you. He's a good person, and I feel bad for you for not seeing it, and enjoying it."

She was gasping for air like a marathon runner who forgot to train, and she was glaring furiously at Harper. The fact that he was quiet wasn't the most shocking. It was the fact that he genuinely seemed moved by her tirade.

He cleared his throat loudly. "Are you quite finished?"

"Almost," she retorted. "Drew didn't lose the money box. Johnny hid it. It was all part of a stupid bet that Johnny used to his advantage, in a childish attempt to win. But I'm pretty sure the only winner here is me, because I quit."

Now how was that for a mic drop?