Yes, Sir.

Chapter 35: Afraid

here is a gif of fetus harry to make you cry^

CHAPTER 35

The sun seems to shine brighter than usual through my apartment window the next morning. I make myself some toast and fix my hair while looking at my reflection in the oven door. When my toast pops up it startles me, and I laugh at myself. It feels as if I haven't laughed in a long time.

When I get to work I don't have time to talk to anyone before diving headfirst into planning the celebration conference. It's scheduled for tomorrow I still need to find a last minute caterer and sound equipment as well as create a guest list. I barely take a minute to breathe before the clock hits noon and I pull out my lunch.

Renee doesn't show up five minutes late, as usual, and when it's 12:15 and she's still not there I begin to worry. I send her a quick text that simply reads, Where are you?

Minutes later she responds. Can't eat with you today. I'm too busy. Sorry.

I frown and set my phone down on the desk. This isn't like her at all. I push a couple pieces of hair off my face and think about what could have put her off like this. My mind immediately flashes back to when I slyly set her up with Louis that one day for lunch. Maybe she got the wrong idea.

Whatever the matter is, Renee is avoiding me, and I need to go talk to her.

Too bad I don't have any time right now. In the few minutes that I pause to think about Renee, my email over floods again. I sigh and turn back to my computer. It looks like I'll be eating my lunch in my office today.

Only a minute after I return back to my emails, someone walks through my office door. I turn around and immediately wish that I hadn't. I glare in disgust at the man in front of me.

"What do you want?" I ask harshly.

"That's no way to greet a co-worker, Leah," Hank smirks.

I resist the urge to give him the finger and try to re concentrate on my computer. However, it seems like he has different ideas. Hank walks over to my desk and sits down in the one other chair I keep in my office. I make a mental note to spray Lysol all over it later.

"What are you working on?" Hank questions, trying to peer over my shoulder. I quickly whip around and fold my hands together, my face hard.

"I said, what do you want?" I tilt my head to the side a little as if I believe he's incapable of comprehending my question. His face flushes an ugly shade of red as his lips twist into a scowl.

"I'm just trying to make conversation," he defends himself.

I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. "I'm working, Hank. Make conversation with me some other time."

"It's lunch break," Hank counters. "You're not supposed to be working."

"Look," I nearly growl, "I have a really big freaking conference happening here tomorrow that I need to plan for and you distracting me is exactly what I need to NOT be happening. Why don't you try and chat with me sometime next week? Or maybe you could find it in you to never talk to me, because that would be great. Actually, it would be great if I never had to see your ugly little face ever again!"

As soon as the last words slip out of my mouth I know I took it too far, but for some reason Hank is smiling.

"My, my," he says, "You sure have a mouth on you, don't you Leah?"

I stare at him for a second, debating whether or not to respond, but then slowly face my computer again. Hank chuckles and I pull back up my email. When I begin typing up the next couple lines I realize that my fingers are trembling.