Between Her Bosses:Box Set(3)

By: Sadie Black

“Don’t sweat it, Kadeesha. This is gonna be another one of your funny stories, you just need some time to pass to take the edge off it. In the meantime, let’s drown them sorrows,” she hops off the couch and grabs another bottle of $7 white wine from the fridge.

She’s right, of course, when isn’t she? It’s aggravating that she can be such a mother hen, but when my impulsiveness has me licking my wounds over a bottle of wine, I couldn’t dream of a better friend to help me through.

Charday pours the wine into my glass, filling it back up half way.

“Keep it coming.”

She laughs, “ok, just remember that tomorrow when you’re crying over the toilet bowl... Again.”

“It can’t feel any worse than I do right now. Besides, you don’t want to leave the glass half empty.”

“Or maybe it’s half full, right?”


It’s work to pry my eyelids open, the prickly sun rays are needles in my eyes. My head feels like I spent the night sleeping on a blaring concert speaker. Why, why, why do I do this to myself? The pillow I hold on my face blocks most of the sunlight that’s bullying my hangover. The ringing in my ears gets louder. Wait, that’s the phone. Grabbing it, I try not to sound like I just woke up.

“Hello,” my voice croaks. So much for that plan.

“Hello, may I please speak with Miss Williams,” a professional, but curt woman asks. Not another collection agent, please! Not now.

I briefly consider saying that she’s got the wrong number or hanging up. “That’s me.”

“Excellent,” she chirps making me want to rip off my ear. “Miss Williams this is Yvonne Goldblume from Nozama. I’m happy to report that we are extending you an employment opportunity in the company. Are you still interested?”

Her words are puzzle pieces that I struggle to put together, surely she’s made a mistake. Or I’m mistaken. One way or another a mistake is being made here.

“Miss Williams?”

“Sorry, yes, I’m still here. Uh, I would love to accept the job, yes!” I say louder than I would’ve liked. My brain thumps angrily in my head, like a neighbor telling me to keep down the racket.

“Excellent, Mr. Lawson has asked that you sign the paperwork and pick up your employee badge this afternoon. Does 2 o’clock work for you?”

A quick glimpse at my phone tells me it’s already 11:30. I don’t want to be late, but I also don’t want to jinx my good luck by moving the time. “Yeah, I mean, yes, that will work just fine. Thank you.” Despite my dehydrated lips, I smile.

“Perfect, I will pencil you in for 2 pm.”

“Thank you very much.”

The phone goes dead and I bolt. If I’m going to make it on time I don’t have a moment to spare.

The cab pulls up in front of the same impressive skyscraper that I left hanging my head in failure the day before. Just for a moment, I stand on the sidewalk like a tourist and admire my new workplace. The building’s dark glass and shape make it look like a giant cell phone, reminding me how it got its name as it scrapes the highest edges of the Manhattan skyline.

Self-doubt whirling through me makes for a long elevator ride. How could I have possibly been offered this job? Heat spreads from my chest to my ears as I recall my painful interview, not even 24 hours before. My journey ends on the 34th floor and take the biggest lungful of air I can muster. I feel like I’m diving into a new world, I don’t know if it’s going to be full of the treasures of Atlantis or a bunch of hungry sharks. There’s only one way to find out and standing in an elevator ain’t it. I take the plunge.

I can see the receptionist beaming at me from the end of the hall. Her smile is shrink wrapped on her face, without a hint of sincerity to be found.

“You must be Miss. Williams,” she says warmly, the disconnect between her genuinely kind voice and her frozen Botox face gives me a shiver.

“I am.”

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Yvonne Goldblume. I’ve been instructed to have you read and sign these documents before we can proceed. I think you’ll find that there is a standard non-disclosure agreement, emergency contact form and a few other documents for your employee file. Please, if you’ll follow me,” she stands up, carrying a plain manila folder under her perfectly poised arm.

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