Secret Santa Pt. 01

This is the moment where I'd usually get into a verbal spat with her. Ever since I'd been in the supervisor role, she'd gone out of her way to nit-pick everything I'd done. There'd been a number of occasions in the past when I'd let a spelling error or grammatical mistake slip through after proofreading one of our press releases. Usually, Mike would catch it, and nothing more would come of it. However, if Alyssa happened to see it first, well, I'd get a stern, patronising talking to, and then she usually ratted me out to Mike anyway. Even though I was technically her supervisor, it was difficult to defend myself as often the mistakes were legit. I mean, this was all pretty new to me, and it wasn't as if I had a degree like her, so it was rather unfair that she was having a go at me all the time. Of course, Mike would brush it under the carpet because of...well, you know, but she wasn't aware of that. In terms of seniority, I was slightly above her due to my promotion, but as Alyssa had a master's degree in English Language, whenever one of the actual editors was on leave, she'd fill in for some of those duties. Of course, during those periods the office became unbearable, and she'd march around as if she was actually important.

"It wasn't for Mike." I nodded my head. "I don't know what you're talking about." Even as I stared at her, trying to keep my composure, I could sense the life draining from my eyes.

She cocked her head and eyed me. "It totally makes sense why Mike has kept you around for so long now, despite you being entirely incompetent at your job." She craned her neck out towards me. "Been doing a lot of overtime beneath his desk, have you, Maria?"

I could actually feel the pulse throbbing in my neck as she attacked me. "This wasn't meant for Mike," I said, this time with more determination.

"Really?"

"Of course, it wasn't." I licked my lips, while rolling eyes. "He's a married man, and like thirty years too old for me. Don't be so silly." I dipped my head, and almost looked at her accusingly. "I bought it as a joke. Sorry that you don't have a sense of humour."

Alyssa was scratching her chin while considering me. "Right..." She raised her palm in expectation. "Well, if not Mike, then who? Who else, Maria? There's literally no other guys in the company." She narrowed her eyes. "So, either, this was for Mike, and you're a dirty little homewrecker, or it actually was for me, and...well...I don't know what you are." She leant forward and opened her desk drawer, before taking out the booklet and almost scowling at it. "Why the hell would you give this to me?" She leant over and opened it up, before flicking the pages with her fingers. "Some of this stuff belongs in an adult bookstore, Maria."

"It was a joke," I said again with a frustrated sigh. "A gag gift that obviously you didn't find funny. I'm sorry about that." I fell into another fake, awkward chuckle. "You know how everything has been so serious between us? I thought this was a good way to lighten the mood." I shrugged. "You know, something we could laugh over, maybe even bond with. Improve the working atmosphere and all that." I almost smiled to myself as I wriggled my way out of the awkward position I'd put myself in and an embarked on an expert demonstration of gaslighting mastery. I wanted to slap myself on the back with applause, I mean, playing this off like it was a team-building exercise and for the good of the office environment. Total genius! Acting like she was the one in the wrong? Brilliant! "Sorry for putting some effort into trying to resolve things between us."

"Right..." Alyssa said again, completely void of emotion while she continued to flick through the vouchers. She seemed completely uninterested in what I was saying, and didn't appear to be absorbing the excuses I was trying to feed her. She stopped on one particular voucher, before turning the booklet to face me with a raised eyebrow. "So, you're saying, I can use this to improve our working relationship, right? That's the reason you bought this for me? So we can"--she narrowed her eyes and chewed the corner of her mouth--"bond?"

"Yeah, that's exactly..." My voice trailed off as I read the voucher she was holding. Written in bold letters across the paper was the declaration that it could be redeemed for a foot massage. I curled my lip in disgust while imagining having to give Alyssa, of all people, a bloody disgusting foot massage. I hadn't even read through the entire booklet myself, and I was sure if Mike had ever chosen to use that one, I would have turned it around so it was him massaging my feet. But the mere thought of rubbing Alyssa's feet, the ever-annoying, Alyssa. My stomach was turning in revulsion and I felt mildly wheezy. This was taken a turn I wasn't at all comfortable with.

Alyssa cocked her head at my hesitance. "I mean, that's what these things are for, right?" She turned her chair to the side and stretched her feet out along the floor; still encased in those grotty old flats. "I can use them to get favours from you? That's the whole point of this stupid gift, or am I misunderstanding your intention?"

I swallowed nervously. The thought of Alyssa actually considering using the vouchers herself wasn't one of the scenarios that had even entered my head initially, and now, suddenly, I was becoming painfully aware of the perilous predicament I was now in. What had begun as a simple joke that Mike had teased me with, was now close to becoming a reality. If I had a choice between Alyssa alerting HR, or actually getting to use the vouchers herself; I didn't know what was the worse option. I needed this job, and I couldn't bear the thought of my mother struggling to pay rent again on her own. It wasn't as if I'd walk into a similar position immediately. I was ridiculously unqualified, and I'd put a lot effort into my tangling with Mike in order to earn that promotion. My lips quivered as I tried to think of the right thing to say.

Alyssa narrowed her eyes while sensing my nervousness. "These are for me, right? That's what you just spent the last five minutes trying to convince me about. Because if so, that means you wanted me to actually use them. Gag gift or not, correct?" She turned the paper in her hand and squinted at it. "You want to give me a foot massage? Because I have to be honest, that sounds pretty damn good right about now."

I gulped a huge lump in my throat. "Well, I, umm, just thought it would be, uh, funny and that. I didn't think you'd actually want to...errr...use them. You know how you are--"

"How am I?" she asked with curiosity.

"Well, uh, you do things by the book and that. You stick to the rules."

Alyssa blinked, before she settled back in her chair while resting her chin on one upturned hand. She looked at me inquisitively, her eyebrows furrowed in perplexing wonder. "That's what I find so curious about this whole thing." She began swaying back and forth in her swivel chair; her now crossed legs shimmying from side to side. "You know how I am," she mused. "You said it yourself. You know that I'll find this inappropriate, and you know that I'm not happy about you being supervisor here. You've basically handed me the ammunition to have you fired, and I can't at all understand why." She lifted her other hand and waved it around. "This whole 'gag gift' thing just doesn't fly with me. If we were actually friends, I'd kind of get it, but we don't even get along, Maria, so this doesn't add up." She let out a deep breath, before turning back towards her monitor and dropping the booklet on the desk. "It's obvious to me this gift was meant for Mike, and you two are having an affair. You probably thought this was a way to earn yourself another promotion." She glanced up at me. "What the two of you do in your private time is really none of my business, even if I do disagree with it." I flinched as I thought I may be off the hook, but then Alyssa flicked the booklet with the back of her fingers. "Too bad you've involved me in it now though, so, I'm going to be including my suspicions when I contact HR. I'm sure you'll be fired by the morning at the latest. The upper management really don't take well to romantic fraternising between managers and subordinates." She shrugged. "They'll probably get rid of Mike too, especially after I detail how terrible at your job you actually are."

"What, no," I said in a rapid, freaked voice. "Don't contact HR. It wasn't meant for Mike at all. Alyssa, please, this gift was meant for you, I swear." She didn't even bother saying anything, instead, she just rolled her eyes and began typing out an email to HR. Feeling backed into a corner, I panicked even further, and began desperately spluttering in an attempt to save myself from an obvious firing. "You can use that voucher, if you want," I said. Immediately, I grimaced while regretting my words, before I tried to lighten the implication. "You know, to improve our working relationship, just like I...umm...intended." My lips were contorting in disgust as I thought about having to actually touch Alyssa's feet, but at that moment, I felt like I had no other choice.

"Well, that would be a lovely offer from anyone else, but you don't really like me though, right?"

I baulked at her asking me that, because the answer was obvious. "Well, I, umm..."

"You can say the truth," she said with a shrug. "Because I certainly don't like you, Maria. We may as well get it all out there, now that you've crossed the line with this ridiculous gift. I was trying to get rid of you through the professional avenues, but"--she lifted the booklet and flapped it around--"you've gone and made this all so much easier for me. You've basically walked the plank with giving me this? I have the chance to finally get rid of you now, and you think a foot massage is going to save you? Tell me the truth for once in your life. Do you like me?"

"I...I don't know what to say." I was terrified that if I actually told the truth, she'd tell HR immediately. Almost as if she was goading me into burying myself.

"I hate liars. You know that more than anyone. So, try telling the truth. Tell me what you think of me and maybe being honest for once in your life will buy you some points."

"I..." My voice was shaking as she looked at me expectantly. "I...it's kind of mutual, I guess? I don't like you as much as you don't like me."

Alyssa bit her lip and nodded. "I suppose that's as good an answer as I could have hoped for from someone like you." She cocked her head. "I know you well enough, Maria. I've seen the way you look at me whenever I point out that you've fucked up again."

"I'm just trying to tell the truth."

"Let's stick with that then. You hate me, right? You hate when I'm right, and I raise attention to you being wrong."

I recoiled at that, unsure if it was a trick question. "Well, I...should I still be honest?"

This time she didn't say anything, instead quietly nodding her head.

"Then, yes, I don't really like you. I wouldn't say I hate you. But, it's obvious we'll never be friends, right? You've always made life difficult for me at work."

"I know, and it should be. I have high standards, and you'll always struggle to meet them because of your natural inability to actually be good at anything. The truth is: you're just not actually any good at your job, are you?"

I dropped my head as a retort was on the tip of my tongue. It was so difficult to just stand there and take a verbal tongue-lashing from the office pedant. I mean, no, I wasn't the shining example of a model employee, but I certainly wasn't scraping at the bottom of the barrel. I was average at my job, just like most people, and any small errors I did make would probably have gone unseen if Alyssa wasn't out to constantly make me look bad. Instead, I shrugged. "No, I guess not."

"That's putting it lightly. Since we're being honest, let's rack it up, shall we?" She starting counting on her fingers. "You cut corners. You slack off. You regularly put in poor performances. You make nonsensical errors. You turn up late. You call off sick way too often and use bullshit excuses. You lie about outside engagements. You..."--her forehead wrinkled as she became lost in thought--"...I'm sure I'm missing something." She dipped her head and watched me closely. "Is there anything you want to add? Because I don't think I've recalled every way that you're a failure just yet."

"No," I said, while kicking my feet against the floor. It was so frustrating and infuriating to have to swallow down the urge to tell her to go to hell. However, the email was still open right on her screen, almost tauntingly keeping me in line. "I think you covered everything," I added sheepishly. I mean, most of what she was saying was true, even I knew that, but it hurt to hear it said out loud.

"Hardly," she sneered. "This all just off the top of my head." She placed a hand against her chest. "You see, unlike you, I pride myself on my work ethic, and yes, some people like to snipe behind my back and say I'm a jobsworth, but I don't care. If you can't do a job properly, then you shouldn't do it at all as far as I'm concerned. I've been pulling my hair out for months over why Mike hasn't gotten shot of you. You're probably the ineptest employee we've ever had and you never should have made it beyond the probationary period. You're so ineffectual, that your presence as an extra body actually give us more work, rather than less. I've basically compiled a whole dossier of your incompetence by this point, and he still won't act and get rid of you. He wouldn't even put you through a formal disciplinary after that whole Bennett-Mayhew incident. I mean, what's up with that?"

I blushed at the recollection of that embarrassing debacle. Bennett-Mayhew were a local modelling agency we'd been acting for to expand their presence in the city. To try and kickstart this venture, we'd arranged a launch party for them to gather together some of the local talent that were looking for new representation. At the conclusion of the networking drinks, we'd arranged for a cake cutting as a photo opportunity, which would appear in the local paper. We'd even roped in a local celebrity to do the deed.

The owner had been completely on board, but had outlined one stipulation: his daughter had an allergy to peanuts, and it was of great importance that the cake had to be completely nut-free.

Well, I hadn't paid attention to any of that and just bought one off the shelf from the local supermarket. Mike had given me a budget of a hundred for a bespoke baked good, but I had managed to get the cake for twenty and just pocketed the rest, and I'd thought that was pretty slick. It turned out that the cake had some kind of nutty spread in it though, and anyway, the girl had gotten sick after eating too much and a huge drama followed. The photographer had even snapped a photo of her throwing up right in the celebrity's lap. I mean, it had been completely blown out of proportion. There hadn't even been any evidence that the nuts had been responsible. As far as I was concerned, she'd vomited because she had eaten too much, you know, like kids usually did?

When I'd been getting chewed out later, I'd sworn that I'd known nothing of the stipulation and had misread the email. However, Alyssa had been quick to dig up the relevant email outlining the exact allergy, along with my reply confirming acknowledgement. The evidence had been indisputable, but after a heart to heart with Mike, and a swift blowjob, everything had gone away. After I had left his office that day, I'd noticed the fury on Alyssa's face while sat at her desk. She had even raised her hand in the air, seemingly aghast that I'd gotten off without any punishment.

Alyssa blinked at me as I now stood simmering before her desk. "You almost killed a client's kid, and you just moonwalked your way out of it like nothing happened." She let out a deep, frustrated sigh. "You know how infuriating it is to see women like you get away with stuff just because of how you look? You're a disgrace to us all."

"That's not how I'd describe--"

"It's unforgiveable." She crossed her arms defiantly. "I don't know which of you is worse. You for being so useless, or him for tolerating it. Even enabling it!"

"Well...I..."

"Just be quiet," she said with a groan. "I'm done listening to your excuses. From now on, you're going to be the one listening to me, the way you always should have been. Do you understand?"

There was a nervous itch in my throat, and I coughed while trying to clear it. "Umm, I understand, Alyssa." I was about to say something about me actually being the supervisor, but I didn't really have anything to back that up with. The way she was speaking to me, I felt completely irrelevant and incapable of supervising anything.

"Good." She remained swivelling in the chair, rotating from side to side while she chewed her lip. Meanwhile, I just stood in place, completely terrified by the precarious situation I was in. Alyssa pretty much had my fate in her hands, and I knew it was only a matter of time before she made the decision to just go ahead and ruin my career, and reputation.

I was about to say something, to mumble some pathetic attempt to save myself, however, before I could, Alyssa let out a loud gasp and uncrossed her arms. She turned in the seat and reached over to her desk, before scooping the booklet of vouchers back up. While I remained standing there, and watching with worry, she began fingering her way through the pages before pausing on one. "Well, there's some really interesting stuff in here," she said, before looking up at me slightly annoyed. "I assume I'm fair game to use any of these? Even the vulgar ones?"

"Well, it wasn't really meant for--"

"What are you saying, Maria?" She pounced and held the booklet up. "Are you saying this thing wasn't meant for me? Because if that's the case, well, who was it for then?" She flapped her hand at me. "We can keep going around in circles, if you want? You can either admit who it was really for, or I'll just get on and start using these things. Which would you prefer?" She shrugged. "Unless you want me to send the email and just be done with you already?"

"Ummm..." I had to swallow down a mouthful of saliva as my nerves were shaking more by the second. I wasn't sure what the right course of direction was. Should I admit the truth, that the booklet was for our boss, Mike? I mean, she'd admitted that she had the card, but hadn't yet referenced anything in it. Was there a slim chance she hadn't read it yet, and she was actually close to believing that I'd bought the booklet for her? The other likely reason was that she was toying with me, forcing me to say that the booklet was for her, as the alternative was admitting it was for Mike. My teeth were chattering as I teetered on the edge of what was the right thing to say, but I knew I had to say it was for her. The whole affair thing just made everything ten times worse and I'd be labelled as the office whore. We lived in a small town with little opportunity and word would surely spread. "Ummm, it's for you, yes," I said, while averting my eyes in shame. "I bought that for you."

She nibbled her plump lip again. "That's what I thought. So, you wanted me to have these vouchers, didn't you? That's what this all boils down to."

"Umm, yes, yes, I did." I closed my eyes in an extended blink; already taunting myself with where this was going to lead. That booklet, though it was racy and fun when I had Mike in mind, was a fucking nightmare when wielded by someone like Alyssa. Mike's teasing of me about only having to fetch her coffees would have been the dream scenario at this point.

"Well, that's quite odd, isn't it? I thought we didn't get along. You just said so yourself."