Hazel (e)

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Hazel
20.
I had never met anyone so utterly frustrating. One moment I think Carter Wright might be a decent guy, and the next, he's tearing and stepping on the paperwork that belonged to his company's namesake.

To think Mr. Wright actually cared about anything. Just a rich snob, a part of me reminded. The more rational side of my brain that told me to keep my distance.

If Chase was right, if Mr. Wright was anything like his father, maybe it was a safer bet to stay away so that no one got hurt.

The other, more quiet side, glared daggers in the direction of Mr. Wright's office door as I hastily gathered up the papers around me. That side had a speech prepared for if I decided to barge inside.

It was also the same side that denied Chase's crude words about Mr. Wright being anything like his father, whoever he was.

Because I knew what I saw in the alley when I caught slips in his ever stoic expression. In his taking me to his home and giving me a place to stay.

Chase had to be wrong, but then again, this side of Mr. Wright had me second-guessing all over again.

Once the papers were in my hands, I hurried towards the meeting room I was supposed to be in 10 minutes ago.

Embarrassment heated my cheeks as I took the relatively short walk to my seat, could feel every pair of eyes fall over me as the room fell silent upon my entrance.

"How lovely of you to join us, Ms. Morgan. Where is Carter Wright?" Asked Eddie Carwile, the company's Vice President.

"I'm so...so sorry, sir, but I got caught up. He's not coming." I responded. At least, I doubted Mr. Wright would make an appearance after our little charade, his anger and pride too much for him to swallow. But at least I had someone to blame.

Suspicion drew behind Mr. Carwile's stare, but was quick to frown and furrowed his brows in thought. "Wouldn't be the first," he muttered, although loud enough for all of us to hear. A couple people snickered.

I glanced over at the empty seat beside me where Mr. Wright would have sat. I glared at the space. Annoyance sifted underneath my skin as I wondered what he might possibly be doing that was more important than this meeting. Didn't he care? I wondered. Surely, his conscience would make him show up, being the workaholic that Mr. Wright was.

If all those papers were any indication...

Beside me, on the opposite side, movement caught my attention. I could feel their stare, but forced my gaze to remain on Mr. Carwile in hopes that they wouldn't speak.

To my dismay, they did exactly that,

"What are you still doing here?"

My stomach dropped when I finally did glance beside me, recognizing Deanna's scrutinizing gaze. She was looking at me thoughtfully, her hand underneath her chin with her bottom lip jutting out. I could see the confusion written in her brow as her eyes held my stare, as if trying to figure me out. Figure something out.

I shifted in my seat almost uncomfortably, wanting to ask the words that were on the tip of my tongue. What do you mean? Was I doing something wrong? Her words weren't exactly an accusation, but it sure felt like one, and I couldn't shake the thought that maybe I was the one in the wrong.

Shrugging my shoulders, I did my best to push away the sinking feeling in my stomach and said, "It's not like I have a choice."

"I feel so bad," Dee said. "I only work here because it's good money. And HR is the best."

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