Insider || hs

Michael!

Cher: Who are you texting?

Cher: I can see you ignoring me from here.

Cher: Yeah, that's fine. Look up at me and keep smiling at your phone like a teenaged girl.

Cher: WAIT.

Cher: IS IT HARRY?

Cher: If it is, you have my permission to keep ignoring me bc you two would be so hot together

Freddie: Stop.

Freddie: It's not gonna happen.

Cher: Fine, then who's got you smiling like that, huh?

Freddie's cheeks flooded with heat as she began to type her reply to Cher, who was at her desk at the front of the office; she didn't want Cher to know that she had, in fact, been texting Harry. But it wasn't like that at all. Harry had just texted her and told her about his older coworker Karen, who apparently still couldn't take a hint. It was even ten in the morning, and already, Karen thought it appropriate to ask Harry out for a drink while leaning over his desk like a twenty-two year old receptionist with no college degree hoping to become the CEO's third ex-wife. The look wasn't working for her.

Even though Harry's reason for texting her wasn't anything more than just sharing a good story, Freddie knew that Cher would blow it way out of proportion. Nevertheless, she didn't want to lie to her friend even more than she already was by keeping the Damien thing a secret, so she began to explain what had made her smile.

That is, until she heard her name being angrily yelled across the floor. Freddie groaned internally. Michael.

"Freddie, get in my office. Now." Cher met Freddie's eye and mouthed "good luck" to her, then quickly pretended to be working. Freddie signed and warily stood to join Michael in his office. She left her phone on her desk, knowing that Michael would likely yell at her for being on it in the first place.

Coming to stand in the doorway, Freddie questioningly looked to Michael for instruction, and she was soon even more alarmed by the harsh tone of his voice telling her to shut the door and sit down. She obeyed, though she could not deny that she was freaking out just a bit. Michael didn't like her, probably because she was better at her job than he was, but even still, Freddie didn't think that was a good enough reason for someone to be so rude. 

Michael kept her sitting there for maybe two whole minutes in complete silence before actually looking up at her, and when he did, Freddie's chest clenched with anxiety. He was angry, like really angry.

"Do you care to explain why you're still looking into the Altmeyer account?"

Freddie's face paled as she sat in front of her supervisor, her mind going blank as she tried to configure an excuse. The account he had asked her to reorganize weeks ago hadn't sat right with her, so she had continued to analyze it on her own time; however, no one was really supposed to know about that. The account was Michael's to look after, and he probably felt undermined that Freddie would continue to review his work.

After Freddie couldn't make a response, Michael rolled his eyes, "That's what I thought. You know, you could–"

Before Michael could say anything to further accuse or threaten her, the door to his office swung open to reveal Michael's boss, Mr. Campbell.

"Sorry to interrupt, Michael, but the meeting was moved up half an hour. We need to be in there in five minutes." Mr. Campbell's eyes fell on Freddie, and a smile flashed across his face. "Ah, Ms. Singleton, you should join us. I've seen your work, and I think the investors would like to meet the woman responsible for their increased profits this quarter." He looked to Michael, "Brief her, would you?"