“Yes?”
“Are you familiar with the employee conduct rules that you agreed to when you were hired here at Sketch Republic?”
She holds up the rule book they gave us at orientation.
“Sort of. I mean I didn’t read it, but I know the basics; don’t kill your co-workers, stuff like that.”
“This is serious, Mr. Evans.”
I just stare at her with my game face. She must not want to play. Well, I really don’t want to play either. “Yes, I think I understand the rules pretty much.”
“Note that on page seventeen it clearly addresses the rule against excessive fraternization on company property.”
“Excessive?”
A disturbing feeling crawls through me. Where the hell is she going with this? As if I wasn’t unsettled enough, the guy lurking just behind Arnold is staring me down. I look back over to the HR lady, the confusion evident in my expression. My arms loosen where they are folded over my chest, and fall down to my sides.
“Are you aware that there are security cameras in our conference rooms?”
Cameras in the conference rooms…filming what? Oh my God.
Fuck
Fuck, no
My stomach is now somewhere near my knees. I suddenly feel naked, in front of Arnold and the suits, no less. “No.” I admit with great reluctance.
“What was that, you fucking pervert geek?” Arnauld yells.
“Hey!” I yell back. It’s bad enough knowing he must have watched the footage, but if I’m getting fired anyway, I’m done with his crap.
“Arnauld,” one of the suit men barks, holding their hand up like a stop sign.
My mind goes blank but for one thought.
Brooke
We had sex in that room, never realizing we would unknowingly acquire an audience who doesn’t appreciate the allure of Brooke bent over the super-sized conference table. I know I’m flushed crimson, and I hate myself for it. I clear my throat. “I see. No, I’m pretty sure that wasn’t okay according to the employee guidebook.”
“I’m going to take you down, you little fucker,” Arnold growls.
“Arnauld! Do we need to step outside for a moment?” the bigger suit asks.
“No,” he barks. “Let’s get this done.”
“So I’m fired. Anything else?” I scoot to the front of my seat. I just want to get out of here, and protect Brooke from what’s sure to come…the sooner the better.
“I don’t think you understand how serious this is Mr. Evans.” The smaller suit advises. “We’re very concerned because it appears that some level of force was used in the activities on the video from the conference room recording.”
Holy shit.
Force? What are they saying?
The scenes that afternoon start to flash through my memory: pulling Brooke down to her knees, pushing my cock into her mouth. This is what the camera saw, but it must not have heard Brooke asking me to do those things…telling me she wanted it that way.
The blood drains out of my face as it occurs to me how bad this would look on camera. Could they be thinking I took Brooke with aggression against her will? I feel my breakfast rise up in my throat and I choke it back. Surely, once they talk to her they will realize they misunderstood the events. Right?
“Now Mr. Evans, I would strongly advise you to speak with your lawyer before you comment. This is an extremely serious situation.”
“It wasn’t like that,” I insist, ignoring his warning. “It was completely consensual. I swear. Ask Brooke.”
“Again, I advise you to wait for your lawyer, Mr. Evans.”
“Brooke would never want that,” Arnold fiercely insists. He looks like he’s going to beat the crap out of me. I hope he doesn’t have a gun in his desk drawer because I wouldn’t put anything past that fucker.
Despite his fury, I can’t hold back. “Like you’d know,” I retort.
His fists curl and he looks like he’s going to explode. “I’m going to…”
“Arnauld,” the bigger suit looks angry.
The whole room’s starting to spin. Jesus, I have to get out of here. I turn back to the Human Resources woman. “So what are you going to do to me now?”
“You will be released from employment and escorted from the building. Do you have a lawyer?” She asks.
I nod silently, thinking about my parent’s long time lawyer, Walter, who’s been helping me with my Sharper Edge contract. I’m sure he’ll help me with this.
“Okay, you need to make arrangements with your lawyer, and tomorrow we’ll meet with both of you to determine if charges will be pressed. We’ll be speaking with Ms. Tobin shortly.”
Speaking with Brooke…Escorted from the building…
A sick feeling of dread washes over me, so with trembling hands I reach into my pocket and pull out my cell phone, then turn on the texting feature.
“What’s he doing? Take his fucking phone away!” Arnold demands.
“I’m texting my lawyer,” I insist.
“Arnauld, it’s his right,” someone says as I look down to focus on my phone.
I tap out the long message as fast as I can, indicating three receivers. Meanwhile I can hear the firing squad discussing me in the background.
To: Morgan, Dani and Nick
HELP. I’ve been fired and soon will be escorted from the building. Morgan please warn Brooke-conference room has a camera. D&N go get the drawings out of my bottom drawer NOW and save them for me. PLEASE
I hit send. When I look up they are still quietly discussing something in cryptic shorthand among themselves so I wait, my knees bouncing wildly. Less than a minute later my alert goes off.
THAT IS FUCKED-don’t worry, Nick’s getting them. They’re safe with us.
Well, that’s something at least. But the next message from Morgan is a blow.
Too late-they already have her.
I’m snapped back to attention.
“Now, Mr. Evans, there’s another matter we need to discuss.”
“Another matter?” I ask weakly. I’m not sure I can take anything else.
He opens up a file folder and pulls out a document and sets it on the coffee table we’re sitting around. It looks like one of the many forms I signed when I started here. Even from this distance, I recognize my signature at the bottom.
Next he opens a large manila envelope and pulls out a stack of comic books. The moment he lays them on the table and fans them out I break out into a cold sweat. In perfect order he has laid out every copy of B-Girl.
“Why do you have those?” I ask, panicked. “They don’t have anything to do with Sketch Republic.”
“I’m afraid you’re wrong, Mr. Evans. They have everything to do with Sketch Republic.” The lawyer turns to HR lady. “Okay, we’re ready for her.”
I look up at Arnold and I can’t read his intense expression. Whatever he’s up to, it’s going to be far worse than anything I’ve feared. Hate doesn’t begin to describe the way I feel about him. It’s a good thing I don’t have a gun either, because now I’m afraid I’d use it too.
In my stupor, I have a vague sense of HR lady moving outside the room and a moment later the door opening again. I turn just in time to see Brooke step inside the office. To say she looks stunned would be an understatement. She looks rigid with fear.
Her eyes scan the crowd. She calculates each face and who they are, and by the time she gets to me her expression has fallen. I see sheer terror on her beautiful face. When our eyes connect there’s a tenderness in her expression, but just then Arnold taps the chair next to him.
“Brooke, come sit here.”
She doesn’t know about the conference room yet. Her vulnerability in the face of this terrifies me. I wish I had mental telepathy or something so I could let her know what’s happened. I sense if I yell something out anyway, it will only make things worse for her. She’s a deer in the headlights. Is she the next one to be sacrificed?