Page 107 of I Hope This Finds You Well

Garret and Rhonda effectively scurry away. The excitement of a big error has obviously been replaced by the need for the team to pull together to fix it, and nobody is having that.

“I’ll stay late. I’ll fix it,” Caitlin whimpers, her lip quivering.

Gregory just nods. He’s going to fire her next week, yet he’s still happy to let her bend over backward pulling extra hours to keep this company afloat. Of course.

I should leave it be. It’s Caitlin’s screwup, and the lady wouldn’t hesitate to let me drown by myself if the roles were reversed. But then Gregory looks at me and asks, “Are you the only two that can do the forms?”

Caitlin and I lock eyes. There’s a silent plea in hers.

“Yeah,” I whisper, as if saying it quietly will make a difference.

“Well then, can you stay too? We need to meet this deadline.”

I stare at him, baffled. Did we not just agree in his office that I was the one with the power now? This has to be some form of retaliation.

Then the worst thing that has ever happened in the exact location I’m standing happens. Gregory winks. “Jolene, helping fix a colleague’s error is just the kind of dedication we look for here at Supershops.”

For Donkey Kong’s sakes, Gregory, this is terrible acting.

Caitlin’s face pinches, stress lines pulling through, but I can’t enjoy it. “Thank you, Jolene,” she practically whispers.

Gregory smacks his hands together like a baboon. “Great work, ladies. This is what a team really feels like.” Then he’s off to violate someone else with his presence.

I sink back into my chair and pull up the new JMS form. Everything needs to be done from scratch.

Cliff messages me:Are you ready to go?

I doubt I’ll be leaving this office before midnight. So I message back:Work emergency. Caitlin and I have to stay late.

Cliff:I can wait.

Jolene:Oh, please don’t wait up. I don’t know how long it’ll be, and that kind of pressure will kill the project.

Cliff:Okay. Have a good night. I’ll pick you up tomorrow, same time?

Jolene:No, after tonight I’m going to sleep in. I’ll see you for our appointment at 11am.

Cliff:Wow, you’re willing to take three buses tonight and tomorrow for this company. You’re a dedicated employee.

Jolene:Isn’t that what I’ve been saying the whole time?

Cliff’s little icon switches offline, but I’m still smiling.

It’s just me and Caitlin, working in the dim lighting since most of the motion sensor lights have gone out. Only she’s not working; she’s texting on her phone. That’s fine. I will do my half and leave, no matter what.

Her phone rings. She sighs and smashes some buttons until it goes silent. She won’t make eye contact with me. Passive-aggressive silence is fine with me.

Her phone rings again. She grabs it with a frustrated huff and slinks into the boardroom, shoving the door shut behind her violently—so violently that it ends up bouncing back and doesn’t quite shut.

I hear her whisper, “Hello?” There’s a long pause as she listens to whoever is on the other end of the line. Then she grits through her teeth, as softly as possible, “I told you, I have to work.”

I’m not really paying attention, until she suddenly shouts at full volume, “Seriously? Look for yourself! I’m turning on my camera.”

Then a male voice yells back, now on speaker: “They can’t keep you there. You’re needed athome.”

Kyle.

“There was a mistake I need to fix.” Caitlin’s voice is gradually getting higher. “You’ll have to come up with your own dinner tonight.”