My already weak knees wobbled as I closed the door to the car and stepped off, with a bit too much force, causing a pebble to lodge deep between the heel of my shoes. Thank God I managed to catch myself in time and quickly scanned the parking lot to see if anyone saw that I'd slightly stumbled. Luckily the lot was empty, except for the security guard who, luckily for me, had his head down.

After the night I'd had, it wasn't surprising that my mood wasn't necessarily all jolly Saint Nick. I could still faintly feel the cramps in my muscles from the cold bath I'd taken that night after getting home from Sean's. A rather drastic measure one might say, but it was either that or going freestyle, and, to be quite honest, little olé me was too bummed to go look for Mr. Dilde.

On approaching the security's quarters, just beside the building's entrance, I plastered on a smile and gave a small wave when the guard, whose name I didn't quite catch — he was new and kept his distance — looked in my direction. "Good morning."

What's so good about it, I thought bitterly and internally frowned.

The man smiled and returned a more enthusiastic wave. "Good morning, ma'am!"

It was as if he hadn't expected my greeting. He probably didn't, but oh well. I merely nodded in return and stepped through the entrance and up the stairs. On days like these, the Cory inside me wished the building had an elevator.

Pausing for a while on the landing, I smoothed down my skirt, dabbed at my chin with the back of my palm and released a tired sigh, before opening the door and forcing through. The air-conditioning immediately caressed my skin and sent chills crawling up my spine. The morning was only a few hours in and I already wished I was home. The day had already started off on a bad footing.

The Disbursement department was almost empty, with the exception of one woman who was always the first out of the fifteen people in that department to be at work. I often wondered if the woman hid a bed underneath her desk, since no matter how early one was to work she was always there. Rumor had it that she was not on good terms with her husband so she preferred to be out of the house as early as possible. True or not, it didn't change the price of rice in my eyes.

Alisa peered up from her computer screen, at the sound of my heels clunking against the tiles, and gave a weary smile. Admittedly, she wasn't my most favorite person, but I tried to tolerate her at best. 

"Morning," I said with a smile as I walked past the older woman's desk.

"Morning," I heard her say in return, but as soon as my back was facing her, my smile was replaced with a frown and an eye roll.  It was an instinctive response on my part, the reason for which couldn't be explained. There was just something about the woman that didn't sit well with my spirits.

On shaky legs, I hurried down the pathway leading to the restroom. The pathway was lined with file cabinets, separating the male restroom from the female's, which made it small and dark as enough light wasn't able to pass through. The little light bulb had to be on throughout the day as without it the passage was impassable. A total hazardous zone if you must. At the end of the passage was the small kitchenette and beside it there was the lady's room. The direction wherein I was headed.

On turning to push the door open, the door to the kitchenette swung open and a figure stepped through. Almost immediately, I recognized him and not just because of the stupid grin which took over his face upon seeing me.

"If it isn't my beautiful baby," he said, his tone hushed.

I internally rolled my eyes, but I could tell that the smile on my face concealed my distaste. "Morning, Wendell," I said quickly, trying to push past his bulging gut in an attempt to get inside the women's restroom.

Wendell grasped my arm with his chubby palm and forced me to face him. "You're looking lovely as always," he said through a smile. "I mean it, you know? You're very beautiful and elegant. And I know a girl like you is crystalline and pure."

I rolled her eyes for real this time. "And why's that now, Wendell?"

He licked his lips and rubbed his thumb over my knuckles. The action caused my skin to crawl and so I pulled my hand away. This didn't faze the man, however. "Because I know you're not like other girls, honey. Your body hasn't been hackled."

He was looking directly into my eyes which made his approach even more uncomfortable. I, being a little perplexed at that point, folded my arms across my chest. "And you'd know that how?"

The man, who was a couple inches shorter than me without the heels, smiled. "I just know. Your attitude and level of maturity and innocence says it all," he said. "I tell you, you know, I really want you to be my girlfriend. We would be so good together—"

"Um, no disrespect but sorry I'm not interested. Maybe you should be telling that to your wife, don't you think?"

"Come on, don't even worry about her. The wife's the wife. She'll always be there, but then you'll have us. Me and you, having fun and doing exciting stuff. Isn't that wonderful? You're a really sweet girl you know?"

As his eyes started to wander below the waist, I hissed and turned around. Over my shoulders, I said, "Bye, Wendell!"

When the restroom door closed behind me, I had to shake my head and sighed. It was people like Wendell who made me question the institution of marriage.

I'd met his wife once; beautiful lady with a killer personality. When they were together it was like they were the best couple on planet earth —laughing, small kisses here and there, hugging and whispering into each other's ears. What if she were to witness what he was like behind her back. Such a damned shame.

And the worst part was that they had kids. Oh, the kids...

Making a beeline for the stalls, I flipped down the toilet's cover, as soon as I was inside, and plopped down, immediately removing my shoe.

"Shit!" I cursed as I realized that the entire tip of the heel was gone and the pebble from this morning was effectively lodged inside. My heartbeat faltered. "I just bought these shoes!"

Pulling out a pen from my handbag, I tried to pry the stone free. For three whole minutes, I plucked, each pluck accompanied by a groan and a curse word. Needless to say, I was easily tired and frustrated.

"Ugh! Fu...ck...ing shit—"

There was a sudden knock on the door which caused me to jump on the spot. I'd totally lost track of time. "Someone!"

Duh, the freaking door's locked. Sheesh.

The sound of someone walking on the other side of the stall echoed for a while before it disappeared with the click of the main door.

"Well, shoe, you're going to have to do as is. Hopefully, no one recognizes."

They always do, I thought. It was true. The employees of Marine Shipping Intl were like hawks. Especially when it came on to gossip. The place was like a state-of-the-art rumor mill.

Pulling back the shoe on to my foot, I sighed one last time before standing and stepping through the stall door. I made sure to wash my hands and check my hair and makeup before leaving the restroom altogether.

The sweet aroma of honeysuckle air freshener greeted my nostrils as I opened the door to the Incoming Freight department. The department was fairly empty as well, considering I was particularly early. I walked past two of my coworker's empty desks as I headed to the front.

Tapping on the desk to alert the woman, who was deeply concentrating on her phone, I smiled when the beauty met my eyes. "Morning, early bird."

Gina's grin was toothy for a brief moment before she frowned. "Well, you look like shit."

I shook my head at the woman's comment. Gina was the only true friend I'd had at the company since starting there. She had a rather peculiar personality that one had to get some getting used to before they truly understood her. And that was why many didn't like her. They just didn't take the time to understand her.  "Well, thanks for the insult, dearest."

Gina got up and went around her desk to where I stood. "Well, maybe not shit. But something else. What's another word for something that's not as bad as shit, but at the same time isn't much better either?"

"Fart?" I offered.

Gina's laugh echoed throughout the empty office space.  "You're no better!" she said as she swatted me on the shoulder. "I'm kidding though, you look lovely."

Her blouse caught my eyes, or was it my eyes which caught her blouse? It was long-sleeved and was made out of a multicolored flannel type material. It kind of had an Afrocentric feel to it which blended well with Gina's darker complexion. "I love your blouse!"

The brown-haired beauty grasped the material around her bosom and smiled.  "Why thank you. Got it online."

"Nice," I replied, turning and walking over to my desk which was adjacent to Gina's, with my friend hot on my tail.

The flimsy chair squeaked under the pressure of my weight—it's a good thing I'm not fat, or it would surely break —as I sat down and turned on the system unit. Mr. Clarkeson must have not heard about proper ergonomics. While waiting for the system to boot, I swiveled my chair to face Gina who had perched atop my desk.

"So how was the weekend?" Gina asked.

"Believe me, nothing special..."

"Was it? I thought you had a big date with Mr. Anonymous?"

The thought of Mr. Anonymous caused my heartbeat to quicken its pace.

"That's something I'll have to fill you in on outside of work."

Gina's face brightened. "Really? What happened?"

Did she not hear me? I cut my eyes.  "I said outside of work, Gina!"

Gina pouted. "But the anticipation is eating me out from the insides!"

When she realized the look I was giving her, she frowned.  "Fine. Be that way. Such a big meanie."

The back door opened and in stepped Mr. Clarkeson, the Freight Manager. Since I was facing that way I saw him in time to nudge Gina. "G, six o'clock."

Gina sprang off the desk and to her feet immediately as the stocky man came into view. As he reached where both of us were, he pulled the nap sack over his shoulder. "Morning, Ladies."

"Morning, sir!" we said in unison.

When he disappeared inside his office, Gina turned to me and pulled up her imaginary pants then mimicked her boss's walk. "Morning, Ladies!" she said in a gruff voice, causing us both to laugh at her antics.

Just then the computer came on and I turned to log on. I smiled as I realized that my mood had lifted significantly. Thanks to my idiotic friend.

***

The break room was a beehive of activities, for so early in the morning, but for me, the last ten minutes were spent alternating between picking at my meal, absentmindedly, and scrolling through my Instagram feed. I wasn't particularly hungry nor was I interested in the conversation taking place around me.

Klara, Tobias, and Tray were neck-deep in a debate about who had the best Jamaican accent —which if you ask me, they all sucked at impersonating.

"Listen mon, it is irie in that place, mon! The cool breeze and great Bob Marley music mixed with the aroma of good ole Ganja! What more you can ask fa?" Tray was saying at that moment.

Tobias' laugh was guttural.  "What the hell do you know about anything! You sound ridiculous. I'm sure that's not how the people there actually speak. And what the hell's 'Ganja'?"

Tray rolled his eyes. "It's their term for Marijuana. It's sort of an alternate language of sorts. Supposedly referred to as Patois," Tray supplied, sporting a proud smile. "Pretty cool if you ask me."

"Well, you still sound like an idiot," Tobias returned.

"Leave the poor guy alone, Toby!" Klara chipped in, after sobering up from laughing, then turned to Tray, who sat on the other side of her, "Don't listen to him, T, he's just jealous that you're so versed in another culture."

"What do you think, Cory? It wasn't that bad, was it?"

It took me a rather haughty nudge in the side, from Tray, to realize they were seeking my input. I looked up at their expectant eyes.  "Uh, what?

"Where were you this whole time, dude?" Tray asked, his brows furrowed.

I sat up straight. "Sorry, I got distracted."

Tobias made eye contact. "Are you aite? You seem out of it."

Tobias was a few years older than Klara and Tray, who were also very much older than me, but despite the age difference, he was a really cool guy. We spent a bit of time together, while I had to be his understudy when I'd just started working and had to learn all the basics, and throughout that time I think he got to think of me as a daughter figure of sorts.

"No, yea I'm fine —" I started to say just as the door to the break room opened, and in stepped the one person I was anticipating yet dreading running in to. I swallowed hard and tried to steady my heart rate with a deep intake of breath. "Totally fine."

"O...K..." Tray said, eyeing me warily.

"Yea."

Just as I finished, Klara sprang to her feet and waved someone over. His perfume made me know who it was without even having to look behind me.

When the footsteps settled and seized right behind my stool, I turned away and diverted my attention to my food, which had already gone cold.

"Tobias...Kara...Tray," he acknowledged everyone, but me of course.

Seriously!

"Hey," they all responded in unison.

Tray must've sensed the tension for I could feel his eyes on me. He didn't say anything for which I was glad. Him acknowledging the situation would've only made it more awkward.

"What's up?" I heard Sean ask Klara.

"Well we were in the middle of a very interesting discussion, and I thought, since Cory here is not interested, we could use an outside opinion."

"Yea? What about?" Sean said.

"We—" Klara began.

"We want you to tell Tray how stupid he sounds trying to pull off a Jamaican accent," Tobias said, cutting Klara off.

"Jamaican, eh? Nice...!" said Sean, a faint smile on his lips.

"I know right!" exclaimed an excited Tray.   "Alright, listen to me repeat it and then tell us what you think."

"Cool."

After repeating the same sentence as earlier, Tray waited for Sean's feedback. All the while I was there wanting to leave but not knowing how to.

"Well?" Klara asked Sean.

Sean smirked.  "Well not bad. Not bad at all. I would just think it would require a little less 'Mon' don't you think? I doubt they say that so much eh?"

"Exactly!" Tobias exclaimed.

"But I think it's not a bad attempt. Actually pretty impressive."

"See! A guy who can appreciate fine art!" Tray said through a grin.

Tobias frowned and rolled his eyes then said, "What the hell does he know anyway." To which Sean laughed.

It was only when he left us to go make his coffee, did I finally started breathing properly. Like I knew he probably would've been mad about the night we'd had, but totally ignoring me at work? Seriously!

We spent another ten minutes of our break chatting and laughing until it was time to return to our desks. Klara, Tray and Tobias went in front while I waited for the crowd to lessen as I didn't want any attention to my shoe.

I was the last one left inside, and just as I was about to open the door, it swung open and someone swiftly entered the small space, forcing me against the wall. My breath stuck as strong arms pinned mine to the concrete.

 "A fucking note! Are you kidding me?"