ELENA'S POV
I finally went on my lunch break at 1 p.m. after making sure Nic knew I was leaving and wouldn't need me. He didn't even look up from his computer as he told me to order his usual lunch and have it delivered to his office. Luckily, I knew his usual—Gretchen had had left detailed instructions for me before she left. I didn't want to risk angering him any more that day.
He had looked at me all day like I was the most stupid person on earth and wondered how I had made it through life. He had been in meetings all day, and our paths had barely crossed aside from letting his clients in, and in those seconds, he barely acknowledged me. Yet, I was so frazzled I felt like I might snap.
I grabbed an apple and yogurt in the break room and settled into a corner to eat my lunch and call Ava.
The babysitter had been giving me updates every hour, and she seemed to be doing much better. Her slight fever had broken after painkillers and a nap.
"Is it a good time to FaceTime?" I texted the babysitter.
She replied immediately, "Yeah. She's having a snack right now."
I immediately FaceTimed, and Ava's face filled my screen. My chest clenched, and tears rushed to my eyes.
"Mama, I want you," she cried, the phone distorting her voice, making it sound smaller than it already was.
"I know, baby. I'll be there soon."
I wanted to be there with my daughter. I wanted to be the one giving her snacks and checking her temperature, not in an office break room eating a terrible lunch while hiding from a grouchy boss.
"How are you feeling, sunshine?" I asked.
"My head doesn't hurt anymore," she said, and I said, "Yay!"
She did look better. Her face was no longer splotchy and bloated.
"That's wonderful! You wanna tell me what you did today?"
"Hannah gave me medicine, then I napped, and when I waked up, she let me watch TV, then she gave me soup and crackers."
"Wow. Sounds like you're having fun."
"I'm not having fun, Mama. I'm sick."
"Yes, you are. But you're getting better."
"I'm getting better," she repeated, then something stole her attention, and she backed away from the phone screen.
She barely looked back at the screen before yelling, "Mama, gotta go. Paw Patrol's starting."
She shoved the phone at Hannah without waiting for me to say goodbye, and I smiled. She was getting better, alright.
"One moment, Elena," Hannah said. I heard her telling Ava to sit still and not lay down before she came back on the phone.
"Hey," she said quietly. "She's doing better than I expected. I've raised four children of my own and countless grandkids, and I can tell you she's going to be fine. You don't have to worry. She's in good hands."
Relief flooded me at her words, and I tamped down the anxiety that told me she wouldn't be fine. "Thank you, Hannah."
"It's no problem at all. Now you get back to your lunch."
She hung up a second later, and I stared at my phone screen, my mind blank.
"Elena. Elena." Someone called, pulling me back to earth. I looked up to find Maya, watching me with a worried look on her face.
Maya was an assistant to one of the company's vice presidents. We were of similar age, especially compared to the other older assistants on the floor, and had become friends in the few months I had worked on that floor.
She eyed me worriedly as she settled into the seat across from me and set down her salad on the table.
"You had me worried there. Is everything okay?"
I said yes in reflex, then shook my head.
"No," I said. "Ava's sick."
"Oh my god! What are you doing here then?! You should be at home with her," she said, gesticulating and wearing a look of genuine concern.
I nodded slowly. "I would, but I'm out of sick days."
"Well, fuck!" she swore.
"Yeah." I sighed. "But she's doing better now. I just FaceTimed her."
"Thank God!" She gave my hand a quick squeeze.
"Today had been an overall shitty day. I was an hour late for work, and Nic tore me a new one."
"An hour late?!" she repeated, her eyes the size of saucers.
I nodded. "Yup. I'm surprised he didn't fire me on the spot."
"On the first day of the job." I cried and dropped my head to the table. "I thought I was going to shit my pants as he glared at me." I lifted my head. "I think he thinks I'm stupid. No, wait—he actually called me stupid."
"The hell! I'm so sorry, babe. That must have been hard." She rubbed my forearm.
"Yeah. But that wasn't the worst part," I said. She looked at me in anticipation, and I grimaced as the words left my mouth. "Ava puked on me, and I thought I washed it all off, but some must have gotten on my hair because I smelled like vomit, and I didn't realize until he pointed it out. In his words, "he pays me enough to afford cologne." I dropped my head to the table, recalling the embarrassment. "Someone kill me now."
"Oh my god! You smell fine to me," ever-supportive Maya said.
"Yeah. There's perfume in my bag."
"Oh." She mouthed. "Anyway, fuck him. He's just a grouchy rich man who's sad he isn't getting laid. If he was getting laid semi-regularly, maybe he wouldn't look so mad all the time."
"Maya, I'm not getting laid either," I deadpanned.
She waved my comment away and uncovered her salad. "Nah, it's different. You're a mom with a very young child, and he's a bachelor, a rich one. Two different situations," she said as she poured dressing over the salad and shook it.
"Hmm," I murmured.
"What does he have to be mad about anyway? Daddy refused to give him the $100,000 bottle of wine for his birthday. Or his chef grilled his chicken instead of broiling it? Does he even eat chicken? What do rich people eat?"
"Pretty sure he does. It's part of his approved meal choices."
"Hmm," she said, chewing her salad.
"But you are right. Fuck him. My daughter is sick, and that is all I'mworried about. Not an arrogant, egotistical, rich prick whose private school education didn't teach him enough manners to not be condescending. Or at least to not be rude. You know, he could have regarded me as a human being. He probably thinks better of his—"
Maya had stopped eating and was instead staring at me.
"What are you looking at? Is there yogurt on my face?" I asked.
I wiped absently at my face, but Maya was still staring—and she wasn't staring at me… She was staring at something behind me.
I already knew who it was before I turned around, and sure enough, Nic was standing exactly three feet behind me, wearing his usual glower—but worse—and it was directed at me for the third time that day.
There was no way he hadn't heard what I said. I hadn't been exactly quiet.
I returned to my yogurt and lifted a spoonful to my mouth to buy time to think of an excuse. When I looked back around, he was gone and was now standing by the espresso machine.
"There aren't any pods in my office." He said staring fixedly at me. "Another one of your neglected responsibilities."
"I am so sorry. I'll restock them right away." I croak out.
For the second time that day, I wanted to disappear.
His coffee finished, and he took it and left without another word.
It would have been better if he had said anything—chastised me again—but the non-acknowledgment made it a lot worse.
To Maya's credit, she was still sitting there, wide-eyed and motionless with shock.
"I'm so sorry," she said when she finally broke free. "I wanted to tell you, but I was so shocked and scared."
"It's fine." I shrugged.
"He's gonna hate you," she wailed.
"I think he already does. How much worse could it get?"