Door 1 - Chapter 10 - The Poor Woman

307 8 4
                                    



They all stared at him as he entered back into the office. Harris didn't have the heart to even pretend to be interested in the applicants. It was still eating him, the way Bob behaved. Harris wondered whether withholding the information about the assistant position had been the wisest thing to do. 

But considering that it took Bob so much convincing to show up when the offer seemed to be for the risk management supervisor, he probably would have pushed him into the sea had he mentioned it beforehand.

"Oh, Hello, Mr. Littman." Harris greeted his boss, who entered. "I didn't see you there."

"No, you didn't." Mr. Littman replied in an annoyed tone. "What's this I'm hearing, Harris?"

"You heard it, huh?"

"Yes, and I'm not happy at all."

"Sir, the thing is, he was under a different impression."

"Who was? I was told you weren't paying attention to any of the applicants", Littman asked, Harris realized his boss hadn't been informed of Bob's outburst and rushed towards his excuse.

"Applicants, right, Err... I guess I'm not really in the right mind frame to be interviewing today," he said making the innocent expression of his which usually made Littman give him a break. Now too, his boss's face softened.

"I understand, you had a good month off and I'm sure there must be some rustiness," said Mr. Littman. "But don't keep this going on longer, Harris, we need to be serious here. There have been some developments since you left. I'll send you a copy and you'll understand."

Harris didn't want to think what the matter could be, his mind already on the problem called Bob. After a tiring day, a loud noise carried through the hallway as he approached his apartment, and it became apparent the sound was coming from inside.

He entered to find Bob's careless mess left behind. Slapping a hand on his forehead, he pulled on the couch to straighten it but it wouldn't budge. Annoyed, he pulled forcefully only to have someone fall down. Startled, he fell back on his TV, cracking the screen.

"What are you doing?" The man snarled at him, it was Bob. "I was asleep."

"What am I doing? You're the one sleeping on my couch."

"I distinctly remember you giving me your permission to sleep here."

"That doesn't apply anymore! Do you not remember what happened this morning?"

"You mean when you embarrassed me?"

"I embarrassed you!?" Harris asked in aghast.

"Yes, and I'd like my apology now."

"Are you actually saying those words?" Harris asked sarcastically, thoroughly annoyed now. "And what is that terrible sound?"

"You mean the classical hits? They're coming from the TV you just broke."

"I just-?" Harris began angrily but controlled himself. "Bob, you remember today, right?" Bob nodded, "You remember shouting at me in the office?" Bob nodded again, "Do you not see what I'm trying to ask you here?"

"Are you trying to build up to your apology?"

"Bob!" said Harris furiously. "You denied the job ergo you have no business being here."

"I told you last night, my wife doesn't want me there."

"I don't want you here."

"Why?"

When It's Time to Move OnWhere stories live. Discover now