Possessed By You (Overworld Underground Book 1) (16 page)

We both laughed uncontrollably for a few minutes, remembering that night. Billy hadn't come near us after that.

"Seriously," I said, looking at her arm. "I think we both need therapy. And baseball bats. Plus, slugging a man with hard wood would not only be ironic, but also a good workout. We'll both need to lose some weight after this."

"This is good therapy," Isabel said. "I feel happy right now."

"So do I." And it was true. For the first time in days, I felt happy. I was certain my day of shopping and gluttony had plenty to do with it, but I wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Isabel and I were back to speaking. All was right with the world. I decided it was too soon to tell Isabel about my bizarre encounters with Stephen and George Walker. I didn't want to freak her out.

Then again, not telling her might have dire consequences. If Stephen wanted to hurt me, what would stop him from hurting Isabel? I resolved to tell her everything.

Tomorrow.

Chapter 14

The first thing I saw upon entering the office Monday morning was Sandra's pale face, her eyes bearing dark circles beneath them. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought she'd been engaged in ultimate fighting and gained two black eyes for her trouble.

"Are you feeling better?" I said, careful to give her wide berth lest she contaminate me.

"I'm fine." She summoned enough energy to weakly raise an imperious eyebrow. They were penciled in, though I could tell her heart hadn't been in it this morning, because they were flat and not tapered with her usual precision.

I decided not to waste another breath expressing false feelings of empathy for her. At least she would be the one dealing with Jones. I could safely hide away in my office and admire the plushy pens Thomas had given me before losing his mind.

The next two weeks went by in a blur. Mr. Jones kept us so busy bowing to his every whim and desire that it was all I could do not to give into my homicidal urges to beat the man with a baseball bat. On the positive side, I saw no signs of Stephen or George Walker, and life seemed to have returned to a state of normalcy. Despite Mr. Jones's rotten attitude, I didn't give up trying to figure out what had happened to him.

At least things with Isabel and me were back to normal; otherwise, I might not have survived. Her friendship and a few drinks at Gronsky's were the only thing keeping me sane. Although I'd promised myself to tell her about Stephen and George Walker, I never felt the moment was right, especially since those troubles seemed to have vanished.

Another Monday tore me from slumber and forced me from bed. I hadn't been sleeping well, but that was old news. I bit back a yawn as I stepped into the reception area at work.

Sandra greeted me with an eyebrow raise. "You're late."

I checked the clock behind the desk and looked at my phone. "The clock is a minute fast."

"That is the office time. I suggest you adjust your phone to match it."

I didn't bother telling her that cell phones were synchronized with an atomic clock that was always right. Instead, I decided I would turn the office clock back five minutes so I could be early tomorrow.

After finishing my morning duties, I checked in on Kevin to be sure he didn't need anything and inspected the schedule on Sandra's desk to see what time the conference room needed to be prepared for any presentations. A breath caught in my throat as I noticed a presentation scheduled for seven-thirty.

What the bloody fudge?
I'd checked the schedule on Friday before leaving and this definitely had not been on there.

Even worse, I only had fifteen minutes for preparation. Sandra appeared from down the executive hall.

"When was this scheduled?" I pointed to the calendar item.

She shrugged. "I didn't make the schedule. I assume Mr. Jones did it." An eyebrow went up. "You'd better hurry."

I resisted the urge to tear the paper to shreds and throw it in her face. Instead, I ran back into the kitchen to get out the portable coffee containers. A few employees milled around inside the break room, swilling coffee and talking. Out of the four coffee pots, only one was full. I grabbed it a split second before Stan, his horseshoe pillow still around his neck, reached for it.

"Hey!" he said, eyes squinting at me from beneath bushy eyebrows. His scrawny frame stood about my height, and he must not have showered since awakening beneath his desk, because a whiff of BO tortured my nose.

Repressing a gag, I said, "Sorry, it's an emergency." I dumped the pot into one of the three dispensers and raced to fill the water reservoirs in the industrial machine and spoon coffee into the filters. I had to fill the third dispenser with a decaffeinated brew.

"I want coffee," Stan grumbled. "I can't program without coffee."

"You'll get it," I said. "But there's a meeting in ten minutes, and I have to make coffee for them."

"Just let me get a cup." He held up a mug that was larger than his head, the words
Mega Guzzler
on the side.

"Your
cup
holds a pot full of coffee in it. Please, if you'll just let me take care of this, I'll make you a fresh pot."

The door opened and Hinkle waddled in. The room went silent, and people edged toward the door. "What the hell are all of you still doing in here?"

"She's not giving me my coffee," Stan said in a whiney voice. "You know how hard it is for me to get going without my morning cup."

Hinkle looked from the brewing coffee to me. "You didn't have the coffee ready this morning, intern?"

"I did but—"

"You're causing productivity issues in my department, and I don't think Mr. Jameson would appreciate it."

"I made the bloody coffee on time," I said. "But sales is having a meeting in less than ten minutes!"

"I could give a rat's ass. The next pot of coffee is his."

Though math wasn't my strong suit, I knew giving him a pot of coffee would leave me enough to fill only one dispenser. As if I had a choice. It suddenly occurred to me that coffee wasn't the only thing lacking. There were no donuts.

"Bloody hell," I said.

"I don't appreciate your tone,
intern
."

"I wasn't talking to you."

"She's not as nice as the last one." Stan eyed a filling coffee pot.

Stan would soon receive a pot of coffee all over his head if he didn't watch out. I raced to the phone and dialed Kevin's desk. It rang several times before he finally answered.

"Do you have donuts for the meeting this morning?" I asked.

"What meeting?"

"The one at seven thirty. I just saw it on the calendar."

Kevin cursed and I heard a keyboard clicking. "Son of a bitch! Jones changed the time for this appointment over the weekend but he didn't send out an email to let us know." He groaned. "Look, I gotta go. Thankfully, I have this presentation ready to go, or I'd be screwed."

The phone clicked in my ear. I turned in time to see Stan dumping sugar into his coffee mug with the large scoop that came with the coffee.

I had five minutes.

Time for desperate measures.

The first pot of coffee finally finished. "Well, take it," I said, glaring at Stan.

A smug look crossed his face as he dumped most of the contents into his mug while Hinkle looked on, arms crossed, his beady little eyes watching me like I might swoop in and steal Stan's coffee at any minute.

"I don't like your attitude, young lady," Hinkle said as he ushered Stan out the door. "If our programmers aren't happy, they aren't productive. You'd better do your job."

"You'd better do your job," I mimicked a few seconds after he left, closing the door behind him. I was frustrated, angry, and ready to panic—a terrible combination for a Monday morning.

Jack entered the room and grinned. "Hinkle giving you a hard time? I heard him complaining about the coffee."

"I got blindsided with a presentation this morning." I dumped the other pots into the coffee dispensers and decided to go with the things two-thirds full instead of waiting on more pots. "And I don't have donuts."

"How many do you need?" Jack said.

"There are fifteen people attending."

"Get the coffee to the room. I'll see what I can do."

My heart lifted from the bed of nails it currently rested on. "That would be wonderful, Jack."

He left the room and I followed after, pushing the cart out into the hall and to the conference room. Attendees had already gathered. Jones gave me a nasty look as I wheeled in the cart.

He followed me into the hallway as I made for the kitchen, and cleared his throat. "You realize we're going to start in two minutes, don't you, Miss Glass?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't see the calendar had changed."

"That's not my problem." He looked back into the room. "Where are the bagels and cream cheese?"

"But I thought you wanted donuts."

"Those too. But some of us prefer something healthier." He grunted. "You're not impressing anyone, young woman. I suggest you pick it up a notch starting
now
."

I ran back to the break room, my heart racing. The closest bagel shop was two blocks away. Jack reappeared, a box of donuts in his hand.

"I had to borrow these from Janet."

"Jones wants bagels," I said. "Bloody bagels!"

"That asshole." Jack scowled and looked around, his eyes settling on the fridge. He opened the door and pulled out a bag of bagels with someone's name scrawled on the side. "Looks like we'll have to borrow these too." He grabbed a plate from the cabinet and dumped the plain bagels on the plate, and found a few foil-topped containers of cream cheese in the door of the fridge where people apparently dumped their excess single-use condiments.

"Just what the hell are you doing in here?" said Hinkle from behind us.

I nearly tossed the bagels on the floor, letting out a little shriek of surprise.

"Sorry, wanted some coffee," Jack said.

"That sorry excuse for an intern still hasn't made more coffee?"

"Yep, just got some fresh," Jack said, picking up a mug someone had left near the sink and gulping down whatever was in it. He made a slight gagging sound and coughed, his eyes watering.

I gathered up the bagels and donuts, trying to act as if I knew exactly what I was doing and skirted around Hinkle as his little piggy eyes followed me. Once out the door, I rushed down the hallway, nearly tripping over my high heels, and put the food down in the conference room as Kevin spoke from the front of the room.

Mr. Jones did a Hinkle impersonation, watching me with narrowed eyes. It felt as though everyone was watching me, like hot pokers prodding me in the back. I broke out into cold perspiration and left the room with as much speed and dignity as I could muster. Sandra emerged from Mr. Jameson's office, her face a cool mask as her eyes met mine.

"I certainly hope you didn't run the office like this while I was out," she said. "The people around here expect and deserve a high level of service."

I glanced back at Jameson's office and wondered just what level of service she provided him. "Usually I have more notice about these meetings, or this wouldn't have happened." I almost went on about how smoothly things had gone during her absence—aside from nearly sleeping with the good Mr. Jones.

Sandra sighed. "I knew we should have hired someone with more experience."

Heat rushed into my cheeks and it was all I could do not to shout, "Experience at making coffee and bagels, you bitch?" Instead, I held my breath and went down the hall to the bathroom. I was so angry, so frustrated, my hands were shaking. I took a paper towel and dabbed at my forehead to remove the perspiration. Even my boobs felt sweaty. Thankfully, I didn't plaster on makeup like Sandra, otherwise it would be turning into a mudslide at this very moment. My job sucked. My man situation sucked. This was a Monday straight from Hell.

"Took my donuts!" said an angry female voice from outside the bathroom door.

Someone said something back, though it was too muffled to make out through the door.

My skin went cold as I realized the first voice belonged to Janet, and the voices were coming closer. I locked myself in the last stall and wondered if I should climb onto the toilet seat, or sit down and pretend to be doing my business.

"Yeah, she stole them when I got up to use the bathroom this morning," Janet said as she and someone else entered the bathroom.

I left my feet down and held my breath.

"Are you sure it was the intern?" said the other woman whose voice I didn't recognize.

"Hinkle told me she had a box of donuts that looked like the ones I usually get."

"What a little thief! What are you going to do about it?"

"Give her a piece of my mind."

The stall door next to me slammed shut, followed by another one. I peeked through the crack in my door and didn't see anyone, so I slipped out as Janet continued to rant about her donuts. When I got into the hallway, I dashed for the lift. Sandra didn't say a word as I punched the button and waited. It suddenly occurred to me there might be other items on the calendar for today. I calmly walked to her desk and, ignoring the gesticulations of her eyebrows, checked the agenda. Sure enough, there were two more meetings.

I took a sticky note and wrote down the number of people. The lift dinged. I casually walked toward it as though I had all the time in the world, though my ears were perked and ready to sound the alarm should I hear Janet coming my way.

Once the doors closed, I paced back and forth, barely able to contain my nervous energy. The lift hit the ground floor and the doors opened. I trotted through the lobby and outside, making my way toward the donut shop. It was absolutely freezing. In my haste, I'd forgotten my coat, and there was no way I was going back up for it. As if to add a twist to my misery, a light mist began to fall.

Monday. From. Hell.

Was this what my life had become? Was I destined to forever roam the streets in search of donuts and bagels to keep a cranky Mr. Jones happy?

By the time I returned to the building lobby, I was half frozen, and my hair was sticking to my head from the mist. My nipples were so hard from the cold I felt certain they could slice through steel. My arms hung like lead weights, numb with fatigue from carrying the bags full of donuts, bagels, and other treats for the despicable Mr. Jones. I shivered violently every few seconds and my teeth chattered.