After Hours Apologies

The car was barely in park before I killed the engine. I climbed from the seat and shut the door, looking toward the rear of the huge building ahead of me. As if it would do any good, I checked the time on my phone before stuffing it into the pocket of my jeans. I then busily worked to tuck in the wrinkled uniform shirt I wore while I headed toward the back door.

"Better lay low," I heard a voice say.

I hadn't even noticed Deon. He was propped against the wall smoking a cigarette just beside the huge bay door, which was closed. Of course it was. I was normally the one to open it.

"Cameron?" I asked.

Deon shook his head and took another drag of his cigarette.

"Don't even know why you came in at all," he said.

I ignored him and pulled open the back door to the building. My mind still hadn't caught up to my body as I sped through the rear warehouse. Plastic covered most of the furniture. Glancing around in a daze, I spotted the only pieces that were not. I recognized them. Bedroom suite. I shook my head and headed into the long hallway. I passed the break room this time, knowing I had to face the inevitable. It was after noon already. There was no hiding from this.

I stepped out onto the main floor. The room beyond was vast and never ceased to amaze me. Furniture sprawled before me in all directions, arranged into luxurious scenes littered with matching decor. It was nicer stuff than I'd likely ever own. I scanned the floor frantically. Several customers were drifting about, pressing down on this mattress or that one. A few lounged on sofas across the way. I saw familiar faces chatting with them quietly, their hands emphasizing their every word. Sophie was with an older couple near the front doors of the store. I noticed when her eyes found mine. She quickly cut her eyes away and back to the customers before her.

I wasn't quite sure where to look. He always made rounds throughout the day. I knew better than to just head to his office. Cameron would be out here, either talking to a customer, helping a sales rep, or tapping away at one of the consoles around the store. The fact that I'd have to seek him out made this worse.

Acting as casually as possible, I began walking through the enormous room. I peeked around faux walls and peered across vast arrays of living room furniture. A part of me hoped that he wasn't at work today. I knew better. Besides, Deon had alluded to the deep pot of shit I'd stirred myself into.

I spotted him. He was standing next to a sales rep. The two of them were nodding and listening to the family in front of them, no doubt discussing the intricacies of their living room. I swallowed hard and slowly stepped over to them between the arrangement of sofas and coffee tables.

Cameron noticed me before I said a word. Half of his smile melted away. He took a few steps away from the customers when I approached.

I kept my voice low.

"Cameron, listen, I'm so sorry," I started. "I was going to call an hour ago but--"

"My office," Cameron cut me off firmly. "Not here."

The finality in his words was enough to silence me. Cameron turned and walked right by me. I knew I was bid to follow. We walked toward the hall at the back of the store. My skin felt hot. I felt each beat of my heart through my every vein.

The door shut behind me and I stood in my boss's office. I had a million things prepared to say, but none of them came rushing out of my mouth. Cameron walked past me and turned. He leaned on his desk, his pale lips tightened into a thin line. I'd seen that face so many times. It was still strange to me to feel so intimidated by Cameron. He was older than I, but even wearing a scowl, his face was plain and thin.

"Four hours, Trey?" Cameron blurted. "Four hours late?"

I patted the air. "I can explain."

"Right, even though we both know you probably shouldn't," Cameron snapped.

I took a breath and tried to start again.

"I got home really late last night," I said. "I swore I set an alarm and--"

"I know how late it was," Cameron snapped again. "Lord knows it's all over social media. What, are you going to try to spin another good samaritan tale on me?"

I stopped. Nothing I could say could possibly win.

"God, you knew you had an early delivery today!" Cameron went on. "And you knew we were shorthanded this week! Normally I wouldn't care what people do in their private time but this is getting downright absurd. You were out drinking until what time? Remind me or make up a better story, because I just can't fathom why that's so important on a Tuesday night!"

My jaw moved but I couldn't produce the words. I felt about two inches tall in that moment. Cameron was the most unimposing guy I'd ever seen. He was skinny and the loose dress shirt and slacks he wore did him no favors. His smooth angular face shouldn't have appeared so menacing, but each word sliced. In that moment it didn't matter that I was bigger or that he talked with a lisp. It was worse that he spoke the truth.

"Deon could have taken the truck today, but he'd have had no one to help him deliver," Cameron continued. "Nevermind that we tried calling you several dozen times this morning. I'm sure you needed to sleep off the night you had."

I forced myself to meet Cameron's huge green eyes. I'd never seen them with such clarity. He wasn't exactly the type of guy I'd hang around. Cameron stood straight and hung his head, clenching his eyes shut and rubbing his sinuses. He then slid his hand up to his head and fiddled with the bun of hair wadded tightly at the back of his skull.

"I know that this is just an in-between job for you," Cameron said in a low measured tone, "but we still have priorities here. I have to catch shit from customers and people up higher than myself everytime you drop the ball like this."

I took a step forward and found my voice.

"Cameron, I'm sorry," I said. "It really was a mistake. It was stupid. I came in today because I knew I fucked up and I wanted to apologize. It won't happen ever again."

Cameron looked at me. He stood up straight. His lips tightened into a thin line again. He shook his head.

"I know it won't," Cameron told me. "You're fired, Trey. I can't keep this up, I need someone reliable."

My breath froze in my chest. I'd heard the words before at other jobs. I wasn't expecting them now, especially not from Cameron. He crossed his arms and stared straight ahead at me. I saw his throat move when he swallowed. He was standing his ground.

"What... a-are you serious?" I asked.

"Dead serious," Cameron said.

Hot waves shot through every inch of my skin, but each breath I took was cold. I shook my head and tried to piece together a way to fix this.

"No, listen," I pleaded, "You don't have to do this. I promise you I'll get my shit together."

"You promised that before," Cameron said flatly. "The day after St Patrick's Day when you didn't show up."

"Cameron, come on, I need this job," I said. "I just bought that car, I'm trying to get on my feet!"

Cameron scoffed. "What you need is to take responsibility for your own life. Grow the fuck up and stop acting like a child, Trey."

Something in his tone, or maybe his facial expression, landed the wrong way with me. It felt like a shot right across the bow. The measured disgust in his lisped voice coupled with the way he sneered at me ignited a dangerous part of me. Before I could quench my anger, I took three or four calculated steps toward Cameron.

With my every step, my boss's body language warped. Cameron's long arms fell from his chest first. His face sank and his eyes widened slowly. I saw his lips part. He sank down until he was sitting on the edge of his desk again, but melted ever further as I loomed over him. His big green eyes darted up and down my body.

I stood over top of him for what seemed like several moments glaring down at him. Cameron's chest rose and fell beneath his baggy shirt. He gripped the edge of his desk and cowered lower. My fists tightened. I chewed my tongue, my breath hissing between my nose. Wild visions of what came next flashed behind my eyes.

Cameron had always talked to me like that. Like I was lesser than him in every way. Maybe it was finally too much. But what the hell was I doing? Was I really going to attack him or shove him around? What would that accomplish? I'd be sitting in jail before the day was out. I looked at Cameron. His fierce demeanor had withered away into the frail man I looked down upon now. It didn't make me feel better. It felt worse.

I shook my head and turned toward the door. It was done. No need to make things far worse. Before I reached the door to Cameron's office, I heard him climbing to his feet behind me.

"H-hey!" Cameron blurted. "You'll have to give your uniform shirts b-back! We'll hold your check!"

I turned and stared back at him. Cameron had reassumed his "imposing" stance and glared at me. I scoffed and shook my head. Without thinking, I jerked the shirt I was wearing over my head, wadded it into my hands, and flung it across the room toward my boss. Cameron just stared at me with wide angry eyes as I stormed from the room.

I shoved open the back door and headed back out into the parking lot toward my car. The cool air actually felt nice on my bare skin. I tried to ignore Deon as I walked, but I heard him snickering behind me.

"I take it that went well?" I heard him call.

I waved. "Take it easy man, and good luck."

****

I spent much of the day stewing over losing my job. When I made it to my house I talked to a friend on the phone about what had happened. Daryl laughed most of it off, especially the part about me storming out shirtless. In the end he offered to check around for any openings, but was busy at his own job, which wasn't hiring as it turned out.

I drove around town for a couple hours, sort of at a loss for what to do next. I got something to eat and tried to give myself some time to clear my head and settle down. Nothing was really working. I'd woken up knowing that I was in deep shit, but I was absolutely not expecting Cameron to fire me. The more I thought about his sneering face the angrier I got. I couldn't shake it.

Eventually, I wound up at the bar that evening. It wasn't my usual fun outing. I sat at the bar and alternated between glasses of whiskey and beer, taking my time and burning the day away. I wasn't in any hurry to get drunk, but I had nowhere else to be. Of course it was a slow night. No attractive mysterious woman came to sit a few stools down. No interesting characters fired up a conversation to distract me from my thoughts.

I was all alone, sipping my drink and feeling like an idiot.

Though it wasn't the best idea to go drinking my problems away when it was the very act that had caused most of them, it actually helped to clear my head. I was able to just sit quietly and think. Much of the throbbing anger had evaporated. That meant I was left with nothing but the truth.

I felt ashamed and disgusted with myself.

The night before had been fun for sure, even for a Tuesday. Cameron had been right though. There was no excuse for getting tanked on a weeknight and dragging myself into work in the middle of the day. I wasn't twenty-one anymore.

Besides that, I felt even worse about the altercation with Cameron. Arguing was one thing. It was the first time I'd lost control of myself. Nothing had happened, but approaching him the way I had, standing over him and intimidating him... Jesus what was wrong with me? I'd never done anything like that.

I sipped my beer and thought of the way Cameron had shrunk onto his desk. I saw him morph from a boss into a fearful frail man. It wasn't the way I saw things going, and it certainly couldn't be what he was expecting either. I kept seeing his wide green eyes darting up and down, perhaps waiting for me to lunge.

I rubbed my eyes. I had to fix it. I had to talk to Cameron and ask for my job back. At the very least, I owed him an apology. It was the right thing to do. Cameron didn't have much of a social network, but if any future employer were to call around, that incident was sure to come up.

I drained the last of my beer and threw some bills onto the bar. I made my way outside, searching for Cameron's number in my phone. I knew it was a long shot but I had to try. Maybe there was a slim chance. I knew it wasn't every day a six foot two hundred something pound guy waltzed through their door asking to load trucks and deliver heavy furniture. That was really all I had going for me.

When Cameron's desk phone went to voicemail, I glanced back at the phone in my hand. It was eight thirty. Sometimes he stayed late to catch up on paperwork, but it was more likely he'd gone home by now. I tried his cell. After several calls I gave up. Maybe he was ignoring me. The phone had kept ringing though. There was a good chance he hadn't heard it.

I glanced at my car in the parking lot. I wasn't completely drunk, but my head felt floaty. I debated on calling a cab, or an Uber. In either case, it felt like a waste just to go home. I needed to talk with Cameron. I couldn't leave things the way the were. I remembered that he lived in a subdivision just outside of town. I could vaguely recall which house was his in my head.

With a sigh, I dug in my pocket and found my keys. I didn't want to allow enough time to talk myself out of this. I couldn't just go back to my apartment and wallow.

I had to do this.

****

"I'm sorry, he isn't here. He's away for a conference up in Seattle."

I rubbed my chin, but my frustration was starting to grow. I stared back at the older woman at the door. Cameron's wife looked back at me, apparently more confused than I was.

"I have his cell number if you'd like to try that?" The woman offered.

I shook my head. "I tried it. He didn't answer."

The woman glanced back into the house before taking a step out onto the finely furnished front porch. She pulled the door to but didn't shut it completely. It made me feel even more out of place.

"Well, I just spoke to him an hour ago," she told me. "He's probably just busy at the moment. I'm sorry, was there something you needed? I could let him know you dropped by?"

I put out my hand and shook my head. "Oh, no ma'am. I, uh... we work together. There was just an... issue I was trying to resolve. I was hoping to do it personally."

She stared at me, considering my answer. Something strange leered out at me from just inside her eyes. Maybe it was distrust or suspicion, I couldn't tell. I felt like I needed to fill the uncomfortable silence.

"I... wasn't aware he was leaving," I said.

The woman nodded. "He touched down in Seattle this morning. You sure you don't want me to take a message?"

I stared back at Cameron's wife. It was my turn to wear the mask of confusion. For several seconds I just gawked at her until I realized how awkward the silence had grown again.

"Uh, no no," I said. I began backing away to descend the steps behind me. "It's fine. I'm sorry to have bothered you ma'am."

I turned and walked across the manicured lawn to my car without looking back. As I backed out of the driveway and headed down the road, I spotted Cameron's wife stepping back into her house. The woman watched me drive away, though. It punctuated an already odd encounter.

I suddenly hoped that she didn't call Cameron. Something was off. Seattle? She'd told me he landed that morning. Which was clearly impossible since I'd been face to face with Cameron getting my ass fired in the afternoon. My alcohol soaked mind squirmed trying to make sense of it.

Cameron's wife had eyed me so strangely. Like I was a thief or something. Did she know I'd been fired? Or did she suspect something else?

The situation felt icky. I had every intention of going home and trying again tomorrow. A nagging feeling had me turning down other roads though. Cameron wasn't at home, and he wasn't in Seattle. I knew one other place to try.

I climbed from my car and stepped out into the familiar parking lot. The furniture store looked so odd at night. The place was dead. I saw that much from the road. It should have closed several hours ago. I stared across the lot at the only other car parked behind the store. The white Tesla told me all I needed to know. Part of me felt relieved that I'd found him, that I had another shot to talk my way back into a job. But... just the thought of what I might say filled me with dread.

Another troubling thought occured to me. It was fresh on my mind. Why did Cameron's wife think he was in Seattle? Walking toward the back door, I paced myself, considering all the reasons and wondering what I might be walking into. The simplest reason was that maybe Cameron and his wife were in a lover's quarrel and he was sleeping at the office. Perhaps he just lied to get time away from her. I slowed my steps at my next thought.

Maybe Cameron was cheating on his wife.

The idea was both horrible and hopeful. I didn't enjoy the idea of being the guy that caught Cameron sleeping around. Me. The guy he'd fired just hours earlier. At the same time, if that were the case, that would be one hell of a bargaining chip I could use to buy myself back into the job.

I shook my head and snickered. I was considering blackmail to return to a job that required me to lift heavy furniture and destroy my back.

When I reached the back door, I squinted in the dim orange street light at my keyring and found the one I needed. I scoffed to myself. Cameron had demanded my uniforms but not the key to the doors. I let myself in, immediately turning to the tiny keypad on the wall to my right. I punched in the security code to keep the alarm from sounding. It wasn't the entrance I wanted to make.

As I slowly weaved my way through the plastic covered furniture in the warehouse, I listened for sounds of... well, anything. The after-hours nighttime vibe of the store, coupled with the fact that I'd found Cameron here instead of "Seattle", made my every move feel shadowy and covert.

I entered the long corridor that led to the main floor of the store. I passed the employee bathrooms and break room, and ignored the several office doors along the way until I came to the one I wanted. Cameron's door was shut. I raised my fist and swallowed hard, trying to gather the nerve to start what could turn into another altercation.

I knocked on the door, loudly enough to be heard throughout the hallway.

I waited for almost a full minute before I was convinced I'd get no answer. I lifted my hand again but stopped. There were no sounds on the other side of the door. Reaching down, I tried the handle and discovered that it wasn't locked. With a deep breath I turned the handle and pushed my way into the office.

No one was inside.

I exhaled and surveyed the room. I'd truly expected to see Cameron in his chair with the glow of a computer screen illuminating his pale face. There was no Cameron, no lady of the night, no secret gambling ring being conducted. All was about as one would expect.

I shook my head. I should be home. This was getting a bit ridiculous. I wanted my job back but not enough to be lurking through the furniture store at night hunting for a one on one with my boss. Maybe he really was in Seattle and just left his vehicle here. Or maybe he was out with the ladies of the night at a secret gambling ring and had left his Tesla in the back lot. In any case, I wasn't supposed to be there. Hell, technically at this point I was breaking and entering.

I checked my phone. It was getting late. Driving back and forth across town had carved out a decent bit of time. I turned and started to leave Cameron's office when I noticed something in the floor near his desk.

I took a few steps closer and peered around the desk. Black pants lay on the tile. Then, every time I moved my eyes, I spotted a new piece of clothing. On the arm of the office chair was the baggy dress shirt I'd seen Cameron wearing earlier that day. At first it wasn't so odd. He could've changed clothes and left them lying around.