Page 27 of Coerced Wife
Ms. Price stands in the door with a straight back and a solemn expression. “I’d like to see you in the big office.”
Not waiting for a reply, she turns around and disappears down the hallway.
Jasmine rolls her chair in my direction. “Is everything all right?”
“I don’t know,” I say, getting to my feet with my heart bouncing like a tennis ball between my ribs. “I hope so.”
“Don’t worry. It’s the appraisals. They’re probably just going to give you feedback on your performance.”
I’m not so sure as I go to Mr. Lewis’s old office and knock on the door.
“Come in,” Ms. Price calls.
She sits behind the desk with Ms. Lewis next to her.
“Close the door, and take a seat,” Ms. Price says.
I swallow as I comply, a knot forming in my throat when I sit down in the visitor’s chair. While the two women converse in whispers with their heads close together, I count the tribal dolls in the glass showcase in an effort to calm my nerves. There are forty-five dolls if you count the bodiless masks too. Then I move on to the patterns on the rug, counting the triangles inside the circles.
Sixty-eight, sixty-nine?—
“As you know,” Ms. Price starts, “we’re going through some rearrangements after Mr. Lewis’s passing.”
I dare to meet the widow’s eyes, feeling guilty and despicable and small. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Ms. Lewis.”
She purses her lips. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Of course.” My nod is empathic. “I understand.”
“I’m making changes in the company,” Ms. Lewis says. “Unfortunately, budget cuts are necessary. You’ve come to the end of your probation period, and I’m afraid we’re not going to offer you a permanent position.”
Even though I expected the worst at Ms. Lewis’s presence,the dismissal still comes as a shock. “Is my work not up to standard? I know I’m lacking a formal qualification, but surely the accounts Mr. Lewis entrusted me with prove that?—”
“You deliberately omitted the fact that you were pregnant when my husband interviewed you.” Ms. Lewis crosses her hands over her stomach. “He did you a favor by giving you a job you weren’t qualified for. The least you could’ve done was to be honest with him.”
I sit up straighter. “I’m not legally obliged to disclose that information.”
“No.” Ms. Lewis’s smile holds no emotion. “But it doesn’t cultivate mutual trust, does it?”
“You can’t dismiss me because of that,” I exclaim.
“I’m not.” Ms. Lewis watches me from under her lashes. “Not trusting you is a matter of ethics. I’m not giving you a permanent position because we’re downscaling.”
Ms. Price gives me a level look. “I’m here to confirm in my role as HR manager that Ms. Lewis is within her rights with the decision she made.”
“Please gather your personal belongings and leave the building immediately.” Ms. Lewis studies me as if I’m something unpleasant. “A security guard will escort you outside.”
Their judgement hangs thick in the air when I stand and walk with leaden feet to the door, not that I blame them. I feel the weight of their gazes on my back as I open the door and enter the smaller reception area where the late Mr. Lewis’s secretary sits. She observes me with the morbid fascination of pedestrians witnessing an accident, her eyes big behind her thick glasses.
Zack waits outside the door.
His presence cuts me with the sharpness of betrayal.
“You knew,” I say. “That’s why Ms. Price called you in last week.”
“She thought it would be best,” he says, not meeting my eyes.
“In case I resisted being thrown out?” I ask with a laugh.