There was a moment of silence, then a faint jingling as of coins or keys – then the footsteps turned, and retreated back to where they had come from. A chair scraped across the door in the neighbouring room.
What's this? What is he doing, damn him?
He didn't leave me a lot of time for wondering, or for damning. Two minutes later, a small metal container shot out of the pneumatic tube and landed with a 'pink' next to me on the desk. I jumped and grabbed the thing, pulling out the message. It read:
You are three minutes late. This will be deducted from your wages at the end of the month.
Bring me file 38XI301.
All right. So, at a guess I'd say he wasn't pining with passionate love for me.
So he didn't want me.
Ergo: the kiss never happened.
Well, so much the better. I wasn't even a tiny bit disappointed. No, I wasn't. After all, the fact that last night's more... intimate occurrences had just been a dream had been what I had been trying to convince myself all the time. Now that I knew it was true, I ought to feel nothing but deep satisfaction.
Ought to, yes, but...
Hurriedly, I stood up and marched to the shelves of files. In no time at all I had discovered the required document and transported it to the door. I reached for the doorknob, turned it – and almost ran head-long into a closed door. A very unladylike word escaped my lips as I stumbled back, the file clutched to my chest.
I tried the door again. I hadn't been mistaken. It was firmly and utterly locked.
"Hey!" With my free hand, I pounded against the heavy wood. "What's the matter? Why is the door locked?"
"Didn't you hear me? I said why is the door lock—"
A soft plink interrupted me. Turning my head, I saw that another metal cylinder hand arrived on my desk. Mystified and annoyed, I stomped over to the desk and grabbed it. Now what would he have to say
Because I locked it.
I took a deep cleansing breath, trying to calm my stormy temper. It didn't work.
Crossing out the original with maybe a little bit more force than strictly necessary, I wrote under his message:
Dear Mr Ambrose,
And why did you do that?
Ha! I wondered what he was going to say now. Was he going to claim you could work more efficiently with all the doors locked? I wouldn't put it past him, the stingy, stony old...!
It is a measure to further your abstinence and thereby the efficiency of your work. There is a liquor store only two streets away and a sweetshop selling solid chocolate right beside it. From your behaviour at the tavern, I deduced that keeping you locked up is the only way from succumbing to irresistible urges.
YOU ARE READING
Storm and SilenceRomance
"It is your choice," he said, stepping so close to me that our lips were almost touching. "Either do what I say - or get another job." My heart stood still as I gazed up into his deep, dark, dangerous eyes... In a world where women's only ro...