The Festival

My in-box chimed, which allowed me to break from the tedious task. I opened the email, expecting some other duty that would keep me late. Instead, a complete disaster. My heart thumped hard as I saw the pictures. A series of shots of me on the float in Key West. Under one was the only text: Victoria the Bitch. My eyes began to pool when I saw the cc line. It contained EL Corcoran main information address off the website. My first thought was Doug. My only thought was Doug. How did the asshole find out where I worked? I was pretty drunk, maybe we talked while we waited for the parade to start - I couldn't remember.

Griffin walked out of his office. I quickly closed the email, panic coursing through my veins. I shifted in my seat and looked up at him, guilt flushing to my face.

"Where's the monthly?" Griffin grumbled.

"Just about finished, Mr. Griffin," I stammered, shifting pages uselessly around my desk.

"Don't make me stay late," Griffin ordered. In other words, I wasn't going home until it was done. I took a deep breath and tried to think. I opened the unfinished worksheet and began finishing the report. My mind kept drifting. I had no idea who the public email address went to. Maybe more than one someone. I had to hit undo a couple of times; I wasn't on task and making mistakes. I was able to finish the report a few minutes before closing. I emailed a copy to Griffin and created two hard copies as was his desire. It was quite possibly the last report I would do. Topless on a float - not even close to the company image. Not within a million miles of Griffin's image. I looked at the pictures again - so brave, so stupid. I was going to be unemployed.

"The asshole sent photos to my work," I cried into the phone as drove home.

"Oh, no," Sandra said. I was so happy she didn't I-told-you-so. "Who's seen them?"

"It was the public email address," I whimpered, "I don't know who gets it. It will ruin me there."

"You weren't exactly topless," Sandra argued, "paint covered the basics. It was your vacation, what can they really do?"

"They'll fire me," I admitted. In my mind it was already done. I was just awaiting my walk up the gallows.

"It's all my fault," Sandra said, "I never saw it going this far. I'm so sorry." I could hear the pain in her voice. It helped. It helped a lot.

"I did this to myself." I fed off Sandra's sorrow. "My boss is an asshole, and treats me like dog shit. Maybe this is the push I needed." Sandra's guilt somehow ignited some strength in me.

"You deserve better," Sandra said, sensing the change in me. If you can't fight the wave, you might as well go with it.

"I do," I agreed. "It's time I took control and pushed for something better."

"What can I do?" Sandra begged.

"Just love me as always." I smiled into the phone. It would be hard starting over again, but at least I had friends.

"That's the easy part," Sandra laughed, "if you need anything, anything at all, you call."

"I will," I sighed, "I'm sure I'll need you and some wine this weekend."

"Call me," Sandra said, "as soon as you know anything. Maybe it will all blow over. If not, I'll bring two bottles of wine." I so dearly loved her.

"Kisses," I said sweetly. An old parting we used in our college days. It warmed me to use it again.

"Kisses," Sandra repeated back. I smiled and disconnected. I felt better about my coming demise.

I went to work early. If I was going down, it wasn't going to be due to my job performance. I brought the instruction file up on the screen, the one I had developed for Frank. I edited it, adding parts that my replacement would need. Things that seemed obvious to me, Frank had found daunting - I made them obvious to the next person who would occupy my desk. I included tidbits that would help keep Griffin in his office working, and not berating my replacement. It took longer than I expected. When it was done, I renamed the file - The Griffin Bible. My most monumental work. I was strangely proud of it.

"Good morning, Mr. Griffin." I received my morning frown.

"Appointment next Tuesday morning," Griffin wasn't even looking at me. "Cancel it, reschedule it for the following week." He continued into his office.

I brought up the calendar and wasn't surprised to find Mrs. Pritchard on Tuesday. I almost picked up the phone before a little trickle of courage surged in. I smiled as I thought about it. My replacement would pay for it and pay dearly. It would most likely be a temp at first anyway. Mrs. Pritchard deserved her one-on-one with Griffin. I didn't make the call, I didn't reschedule, I mutinied for her sake. The idea of Griffin having to politely endure the sweet lady was a very pleasing thought.

I received a call from HR just before lunch. I was to see them at four, just before closing. They lied and said it was routine. I knew it was my last day. I spent the afternoon cleaning up all unfinished business, even the stuff I would have normally put off until next week. No one would be able to say my leaving was due to incompetence. Promptly at four, I was down in HR as requested.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Paddington," Rob Thaxton, Director of HR said, "this type of activity is against company policy. The same policy you agreed to when you were hired. The employee manual clearly states..."

"I am aware," I interrupted. I wasn't going to sit there and let him ease his conscience by blathering on. "Am I fired?"

"I am afraid we have to let you go," Rob said, almost like he meant the sorrow that leaked into his voice.

"Fine, let's get it over with," I said. Rob passed me documents including a dismissal letter signed by Mr. Corcoran himself. Some information about my rights, insurance information and the appeal process if I felt I had be wronged. I took them all with a sigh. Another chapter of my life was over. I just had to write a new one.

"Charlie will escort you to your desk so you can collect your things," Rob said, indicating to one of the building's security guards. So, shame and embarrassment were part of the package. I would be escorted like a criminal. I stood, more defiant than I felt and walked out of HR without a word. My uniformed shadow followed.

I wasn't sure what I wanted. There wasn't much of mine on the desk. Griffin didn't really approve of much decoration. I had a framed picture of my parents. I would take that just so it didn't end up in the garbage. I had plenty of copies at home, so it wasn't needed. I opened a couple of drawers. Some backup makeup, stain stick and an extra phone charger. Most of my life was at home.

"What the hell is this?" Griffin said gruffly. He was looking at Charlie standing over me.

"I was fired," I said, surprised he didn't know it was coming. I opened the last drawer. It held nothing of mine.

"In my office," Griffin commanded. I looked up and smiled. He wasn't my boss anymore. I ignored him and began collecting my meager belongings into a pile I could carry. "Now!" he commanded louder. I moved out of habit. I had strength, but after a year I was well trained. "Not you, idiot," he pointed at Charlie when he tried to follow. Charlie stopped in his tracks.

"I left instructions for my replacement," I said, when the door closed. "A hard copy is in the top drawer." Twelve pages - my manifesto to slavery.

"You go and get yourself fired," Griffin went into tirade mode, "knowing how it will screw up my process. Do you ever have a coherent thought running through that skull of yours?" I almost lost it. Something about burning bridges held me back.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Griffin," I said. "The firing wasn't office-related; nothing to do with my work for you. I was hoping I could still use you as a reference." It was a dream. I knew it when it came out of my mouth. I was handing him the whip.

"You leave without warning, and expect me to relish it," Griffin whipped hard. "It will be months before I'm back to any semblance of normalcy. I wouldn't recommend you for crossing guard." He lit the match, I just threw it at the bridge. Such an old dry wooden structure.

"You are the most arrogant, selfish, pig-headed asshole I have ever met in my life," I screamed strongly. I wanted the whole building to hear. "Nothing's ever good enough for you. You've belittled me for over a year, yet here I stand." I straightened my shoulders and stared daggers into his eyes. It was unfortunate he was a good deal taller than I.

"You contemptuous..." Griffin began. It was flamethrower time.

"Don't you dare!" I interrupted, "I have bowed and scraped at your feet." My hand came up of its own volition. I jabbed my finger into his chest. "I am the best assistant you ever had," poke, "I deserve more," poke, "a measly little angry shit like you will not ruin my life." Jab. Griffin was speechless. He was staring at me in shock - maybe the beginnings of a heart attack. I smiled as he shuddered under my wrath. I turned and left his office, useless pride driving me on.

"Leave it," I said to Charlie as I walked past my desk, "I don't want anything to remind of this shit hole." Anger was my strength. The bridge was burning brightly. I smiled at the appalled faces as I was escorted out of the building.

The adrenaline drained quickly when I exited to the street. Shaking began. I sat at the corner, on a bus stop bench. I had just shattered my resume. I would really be starting over. I closed my eyes and tried not to cry.

I heard my name being called and looked up. Charlie was moving quickly toward me. I was done with EL Corcoran Brokerage. I rose and headed away toward the parking garage. It was time to go home. Charlie called again and increased his pace. I ignored him.

"Ms. Paddington," Charlie panted. He wasn't in very good shape. "Mr. Corcoran wants to speak with you." Charlie held forth a phone. I waved it away. Like I wanted to have him ranting in my ear. I added a little fuck-off finger to my wave.

"She doesn't want to speak with you," Charlie said into the phone. I moved away quickly. I needed it all behind me as quickly as possible.

"Yes, sir," Charlie said and put the phone in his pocket. "Mr. Corcoran is on his way down. He asked if you would please wait for him." I stopped walking. The word please was, well, pleasing.

"What's this about?" I queried. My leaving was the only power I had now. I wasn't convinced I should give it up.

"I don't know," Charlie shrugged his shoulders, "they never tell the idiot anything." I almost laughed.

"Don't listen to Griffin," I said, letting my smile form. Charlie certainly wasn't my enemy. "He calls everyone an idiot." We shared knowing smiles. I decided it was for Charlie's sake that I waited.

"Ms. Paddington," Mr. Corcoran was puffing when he caught up to us. His balding head was sweating, his suit clung weirdly on his bulk. He wore a smile, a salesman's smile. It caught me off guard. "Thanks, Charlie," he said, dismissing Charlie to return to the building. Charlie winked at me as he retreated - at least I had some weak emotional support.

"Mr. Corcoran," I acknowledged. If he was looking for an apology or even a clean exit, it was too late. My opinion of his firm couldn't be any less.

"It seems we were hasty," Corcoran began. "The photos were a bit shocking, and we acted too quickly. It was your vacation after all, though we wished it was a little less public." He shook his head like he had lost his train of thought. "I would like to undo this afternoon. Pretend it didn't happen. We'll let the pictures go with a verbal warning." There was that salesman smile again.

"Ah.." His words staggered me. Griffin wouldn't allow it to be undone. "I'm not sure I understand." I stalled.

"We don't want you to leave," Corcoran continued. "It was my fault really. Please, accept my apology and we can put it all behind us." I stared in disbelief. The CEO was apologizing to me for my actions. I felt like I was being conned.

"I'm sorry, Mr Corcoran," I said, shaking my head, "Mr. Griffin and I kind of had it out. I don't think there is a comfortable way to take any of it back." My back stiffened with my resolve, "I appreciate it, I really do. Maybe it is best for all if I move on." I turned away before I sunk myself back into the slave pit of EL Corcoran Brokerage.

"If it's money," Corcoran pleaded, "I can offer more." I stopped. From firing to a raise. I turned back.

"I just called my boss an arrogant, selfish, pig-headed asshole and you want to give me a raise?" I asked in exasperation. His expression changed from salesman to contrite.

"If you're not back on Monday, I lose Griffin," Corcoran confessed.

"What?"

"He's twenty percent of the business, Ms. Paddington," Corcoran continued. "He is everything you said and more, but he produces. For some reason, he wants you to stay on." My mind was reeling. Griffin backed me? Nothing was making any sense. Corcoran looked at me, his eyes trying to deduce my thoughts.

"I don't understand," I said, my confusion evident.

"Either do I," Corcoran admitted, "Griffin hates everyone." He paused for a second, "Look, I can offer a twenty-percent raise and five more vacation days." My eyes widened. "I know what it must be like working for him. If you stick it out, I will make it worth your while."

"I yelled at him pretty good," I said, more to myself.

"Take the money and apologize," Corcoran said, "you keep him happy and I'll make sure you have a good future." His salesman smile was back.

"Okay," I said, "but I can't promise happy. Tolerant is the best I have ever done." Corcoran laughed.

"Monday then?"

"Yes, sir," I answered, my future no longer completely dismal. Corcoran slapped his hands together in glee and returned to the office. I watched him walk off, dazed by what I had just agreed to. Monday would be hell. I would pay for every word I said. I smiled. The asshole had fought for me. I was the best assistant he ever had.

~~~~~~~~~~

"You called him that?" Sandra's eyes were alive as I explained the day's events. She had brought over a couple bottles of wine to soothe my sorrows. We toasted instead.

"And I poked him the chest," I said. I animated my jabbing finger. "You would have been proud of me." It was much better sharing the weirdness instead of my unemployment. "I had thought I had sealed my doom. I had no idea he would threaten to leave the company."

"You must be quite the assistant." Sandra tipped her glass to me. "Have you been...handling his stress?" She bounced her eyebrows to emphasize her joke.

"God, no," I laughed, "I question if he's ever had a woman. He's too ornery." I imagined him critiquing some poor woman for the blow-job he just received. The image made me laugh all the more.

"A raise and more vacation. You've done good, girl," Sandra said.

Sandra and I ordered in some pizza, spent some of my new raise on pay-for-view movies and knocked off the two bottles of wine. A wonderfully relaxing night of watching movies made for teens, just so we could ogle some tight abs. Sandra was greatly relieved that her body painting idea didn't screw up my life. I failed to mention that it was mostly the margaritas. I actually enjoyed her feeling like a guilty older sister. It was selfish of me, but I loved her for it.

The doorbell rang at eight in the morning. Sandra and I had passed out well after midnight, never quite making it past the couch. I stood, trying to shake the cobwebs out of my head. My mouth tasted like a sewer. Sandra just grabbed a cushion and covered her head. The irritating bell rang again. I moved slowly, scratching my ass. The whole room smelled of stale wine.

"I woke you up," Griffin said. I was stunned. Had I known, I don't think I would have opened the door. He was in jeans with a pullover sweater. I had never seen him not in suit. The whole image was surreal. "I should leave," he said. I closed my mouth. God. I was in pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. I had no idea the direction my hair was going. I shivered in the cool morning air.

"Too late now," I said. I opened the door wider and moved to the side. "Good morning, Mr. Griffin," I said loud enough for Sandra to hear. She popped up as he entered.

"I should have called," Griffin said. I nodded, wondering how he got my address. I nearly fainted when he smiled. "I lost my assistant who usually handles these things." A joke. A piss poor one, but a joke nonetheless. I gave it the half smile it deserved.

Griffin handed me a letter on company stationery. I took it, while trying desperately not to scratch my itchy ass again. Sleeping on the couch had left it all tingly. I walked over to the wall and switched on the light as Griffin and Sandra regarded each other. No hellos, just eyes and a nod.

The letter was a glowing recommendation from him. Five paragraphs singing my praises. It was beautifully written. The prose he used was concise and stated fact. Naming projects I had been instrumental in. I was choking up. I didn't know he even remembered half of what I had done. I didn't understand.

"So you don't want me Monday?" I asked. Griffin's face contorted. He choked back his first response, which I would have recognized and continued with a second. This was new.

"I want you back Monday," Griffin said slowly. "I owe you that." He said pointing at the letter. "I wrote it in case you don't want to come back." I could see him struggle with the words. He wanted so much to lash out.

"You're apologizing," I said. The beautiful letter got to me. Unbidden, my eyes filled. He stood there looking at me with an almost imperceptible nod. I smiled. It was all I would ever get. From him, it was total capitulation - unconditional surrender.

"I'm sorry for the words I spoke," I said. Actually, I was sorry for how I said them, not that I did.

"Deserved." was all he said. Another capitulation. "You won't do it again, in the office." It was an order, not a request. His normal way of communicating had returned.

"Not out loud," I conceded. Damn, if he didn't smile again. In six months, I had never seen him smile. Now, twice in the matter of a few minutes.

"I'm Sandra," Sandra introduced herself. I really hoped my hair didn't look like hers.

"Yes, the bouquet," Griffin said. Sandra's hands instinctively covered her boobs. She flushed. Griffin looked at me. "I did some research on the festival. It seems well covered in social media. I assume you will be avoiding things like that in the future." More commands. Nothing was changing. Well, nothing but my pay and some acknowledgment. I really liked the letter.

"It was a one-time thing," I admitted. I didn't like him telling me what I couldn't do, but the chances of me topless in public again were nil. Griffin nodded.

"Then it's behind us," Griffin said as if he could dismiss the incident with his words. "I am yours for the day."

"Pardon?" I asked. I was sure I misunderstood. Sandra's eyes were darting between Griffin and me.

"I have been informed that I create a stressful work environment." Griffin was speaking as if I was a little dull in the head. Nothing had changed. "I don't expect that will change. I also know that your work has improved mine." Another compliment. Why did I find it worth more than the raise? "Public outbursts and parades are out." Another small smile. I just stared. "Therefore, we must find a new way for you to release your stress. I am your employee for the day."

"My work has improved yours?" I smiled, ignoring the rest of his analysis.

"Seven percent increase on existing accounts," Griffin nodded, "you develop the numbers. You must have seen it." My smile wouldn't go down. I never really read the numbers, I just generated the reports and sent them on. "You have developed a rapport with my clients. A skill I lack." An understatement.