Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
“Martyrism will get you nowhere, Honey. I am not talking about back then. I am talking about right now. I expected better. Especially after you’d been warned. If it weren’t for me, you’d be fired right now so you can keep all the name-calling and the painting me out to be some enemy of yours to yourself. I know how good you are, that’s why I hired you the first chance I got, and that is what makes this all the more painful for all involved!”
“Don’t stand there and act like you’ve been vouching for me and wanting the best for my career. You’ve been gunning for me, and I know it.”
“You’re out of your mind. Where the hell is security?!” Teresa looked toward the door, and she followed her gaze. In the distance, the elevator opened and two security officers got off it. One was a tall, big White guy with a bored look on his face, and the other was a Black man with stern eyes. She turned around and faced the woman who now seemed rather concerned… as if perhaps this was a mistake, after all.
“If we keep allowing you to do whatever you want to do without consequences, you will keep pushing us to see how far you can go.” Teresa’s voice cracked.
“Without consequences? I’m not some child, Teresa! You’re acting like you told me to stay out of the candy bowl, and I keep stealing Nerds and Snicker bars! Now you’re going to get me escorted out of here like I’m some criminal. The only crime to take place is what you’re doing right now, and you know you’re wrong! Who are you trying to impress and get brownie points from this time?” The woman’s eyes grew large, as if she were mortified. “That’s right. Clearly you have an axe to grind with me, and we both know why.”
“I’ve stuck my neck on the line for you for the final time. You didn’t have permission or clearance to even be at the Talbot Dinner last month, and then you made a spectacle of yourself! Mr. Brunswick has threatened to sue us because of you. Two months before that, you were at that bank robbery interfering with police procedure.”
“That police officer didn’t even know what direction the thieves had driven, and I had to tell them! They would have lost valuable time reviewing camera footage if I hadn’t been right there. What the hell are you talking about? The entire police force, and you, should be thanking me.”
“Guards, please escort Ms. Brooks to her office, watch as she clears it out to ensure she doesn’t vandalize anything, and make sure she hands you her door key. I also need—”
“Hold up.” She held up her finger as one of the men approached her. She fully expected an altercation but much to her surprise, he stopped in his tracks. “If I’m not being fired, you don’t need my keys, but more importantly, clear this one thing up for me. Are you saying that I made a spectacle of myself by asking tough questions about that Brunswick situation, too? He’s running for mayor and has a racketeering charge looming! Y’all are obviously being paid to keep this hush hush. How much is that man paying you, Teresa? Damn, this is pathetic!”
“You’re a photographer, not a literary journalist, Honey! Guard! Please!” She clapped her hands frantically.
This time the guard grabbed her arm, while the other one looked onward.
“Get your hands off me!” She pulled her arm out of his grasp and marched out of the office beside him. The other one got on her opposite side, boxing her in as she strolled towards her office. She fought embarrassment. She fought angry tears. She held tight and firm to her dignity. She could feel the eyes from her colleagues on her as she made her walk of shame down the hall, then turned left, for possibly the final time. There her office was, smelling like oranges and vanilla from her candle still warm and fragrant from the electric candle warmer, and her favorite plant in the corner, basking in the sunlight.
It’ll be dead by the time I get back… if I even get back. She wasn’t certain when that would be. Three months could turn into six. Six could turn into termination. She’d seen this happen to others before. It rarely ended well.
On a sigh, she grabbed some baskets she had lying about and pulled open various desk drawers, tossing in this and that while the two big men stood there staring her down. One seemed to have a smirk on his face. She fought saying something smart to wipe it clean away—after all, it wouldn’t change anything. Teresa showed up several minutes later with two large empty cardboard boxes and tossed them on the floor.