Against the Odds

Chapter 16

DEFCON 1. I repeat, we are at DEFCON freaking 1.

All day I have been on the precipice of pissing myself worried that Ms. Harris would come snooping around the office. I don't even like referring to her as Ms. Harris at this point. She's definitely lost the prestige of that title. She's just Camille. Camille pain-in-my-ass Harris. She sent our team several emails this morning outlining new projects and deadlines. I was glad that every message she sent was to the team. No individual emails. Perfect. I was thinking that we were going to forget what happened on Friday and act like professionals.

That was until about 2 p.m. when my computer pinged, and I received an email from Camille with the subject line: Urgent Meeting 2:30 p.m My Office.

I was hoping, no praying, that the rest of my team was cc'd in the email. Maybe there was an emergency with one of our clients, or perhaps she had some news from head office. But alas, the email was just for me. One, Delilah Sterling.

It's 2:26 p.m. right now, and I swear I'm about to pass out.

Ok. You've got this. Shoulders back. Head up. Wipe your sweaty hands on your blazer. Smile. And knock on the door.

My arms seem to have lost the ability to move. Knock. Just do it!

I knock lightly on Camille's office door three times. Breathe.

"Come in," Camille commands. You are strong! You are confident! I enter the office and Camille's frozen glare pierces my soul. You are fucked! "Please sit."

I gingerly take a seat at the edge of the chair. This position allows for more agility in case she decides to leap across the desk to attack me. Camille reclines in her seat, she looks calm and composed, which is severely disconcerting. Why is she so relaxed? What game is she playing? I mirror her body language and recline further back into the chair.

"Good afternoon Ms. Harris." My voice is firm, surprisingly. "How can I help you?"

Camille purses her lips and then a slight smile appears on her perfectly done-up face. "How was your weekend, Delilah? Did you do anything interesting?" Her tone indicates that she's not interested in what I did, but rather who. Is she jealous? Her overly smug demeanor is causing feisty confidence to stir up in my stomach.  

"I had a fantastic weekend, thank you for asking," I smirk knowingly. Aside from my breakdown.

"I'm sure you did." Camille snickers softly and then her expression sharpens as if she remembers the reason for this little 'meeting'. It takes every fiber of my being not to roll my eyes at her. Gosh, she's intolerable. "I've called you in today to-" Camille's jaw tightens. "Apologize for my behavior this past Friday. It was unprofessional and callous. It will not happen again." She must be reading this from HR's guide to not getting sued. "Your personal life is none of my concern, so I hope we can move past this and get back to work?"

She's apologizing to me, which makes me think that I have the upper hand here. Hmm. I stare at Camille's face intently, searching for a shred of sincerity, hoping that we can genuinely move on. But all I see is a bruised ego. She actually looks like someone is performing surgery on her without anesthetics. This must be killing her, having to apologize to me like this. I kind of feel bad, her pride must be shattering.

I tilt my head and throw her my sweetest smile. Oscar-worthy. "Thank you, Ms. Harris. I really appreciate you owning up to your mistake. It takes a strong woman to admit she was wrong." Ok, maybe I don't feel that bad. "Let's just forget what happened and move on."