“Bathroom,” she whispered back.
Nick had continued on with his presentation. “…it triggers the system to apply a calculation that adds an aggregation to the formula, which in turn—”
“Can it wait?” Michelle understood the implications behind the question. Leaving the meeting to attend to personal matters? Don’t you realize how unacceptable to the company this is?
“No it can’t,” Michelle said, her voice lowered. “I don’t feel good. I’m feeling a little sick. I’ll be right back.” Without pausing to hear Sam’s answer, she squeezed around his chair and made her way quietly out of the room.
She closed the door softly behind her and the pain in her bladder hit her like a fireball. She walked fast down the hall toward the rest rooms she’d seen earlier that morning, not caring if she was reprimanded by Sam later that day or next week. What’s he going to do? Fire me for having to take a leak? If they don’t like it they can stuff it up their collective corporate asses and—
She burst into the ladies room and made it into a stall quickly, shut and bolted the stall door and shucked her slacks and panties down and sat down on the toilet and sighed as she released her bladder’s contents.
And she remained seated on the toilet, letting herself relax as she did her business, not caring if Sam or her colleagues got angry with her. For the first time, the past week’s tiredness and fatigue came upon her, settling in her shoulders, creating tension along the back of her neck. She leaned forward, eyes closed, and tried to relax. She would chill out just for a few minutes, give her body time to reorient itself, maybe call home real quick, then she’d go back. Doing all that would give her another two or three hours of energy, she was sure of it. Then—
The door to the bathroom opened.
Footsteps on the tiled bathroom floor.
Michelle looked up, panic flaring in her belly. The tread was not that of a woman. It sounded like the footfalls of a man wearing dress shoes.
The footsteps stopped in front of her stall and Michelle drew in a breath. She was confused, scared, not sure what she should do, when suddenly the door was bashed in, snapping the lock, and Alan Perkins was standing before her with a wicked grin on his face.
CHAPTER TEN
“GET THE HELL out of here!” Michelle yelled. With one fluid motion she slammed the bathroom stall door shut and rose to her feet. She clutched her slacks in her left hand and attempted to pull them up over her thighs. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I was sent here by Sam to see if you were okay,” Alan said.
Leaning her shoulder into the stall door to keep it closed, Michelle managed to get her slacks and panties back up and buttoned. When she opened the stall door Alan was waiting for her. “So you had to follow me into the ladies room?” Michelle tried to interject some anger into her voice, but inside she was scared.
“I have to make sure our latest company asset is well taken care of,” Alan said. He had that same, strange smile on his face.
This was too much. All the strange behavior, the unacceptable mannerisms from her co-workers and now this! When this was over, Human Resources was going to hear about it. Maybe even Alan’s boss. Michelle shouldered her way past Alan and headed to the sink. “I’m fine,” she said. “Now why don’t you get the hell out of here and leave me alone!”
“Do you realize you’re breaking company policy?” Alan said. That strange smile was gone from his face now. Michelle caught him looking at her from the bathroom mirror as she quickly washed her hands.
“Having to pee is breaking company policy?”
“Excusing yourself to attend to personal business while company business is at hand is a violation of company policy,” Alan said. He sounded like a robot. Michelle felt a shiver run down her back. Jesus, he sounds like Dennis Harrington. She turned around and regarded him. As much as he sounded like Dennis he surely didn’t look like him. Alan wasn’t vacant-eyed or devoid of emotion. Alan appeared to be trying to hold his emotions—mirth? happiness? relief?—inside him while trying to appear business-like.
Michelle turned off the faucet and dried her hands on a paper towel from the dispenser. “I don’t give a shit. Report me.”
“I can make it all go away as if it never happened,” Alan said. He stood before her as she attempted to exit the ladies room.
“Get the hell out of my way!”
“Did you hear what I said? I said that I can keep this a secret between us… tell Sam that you’re fine and that you’re right on schedule. He trusts me.”
“Why would he trust you?”
“He just does.”
“Why should I care?”
“Don’t you want to be a part of Corporate Financial?”
“What do you care?”
“I care a lot.”
“The fuck you do!”
“Talking to me in that tone and language is a violation of corporate policy, too.”
“Fuck corporate policy!”
Michelle made another attempt to storm past him again and this time Alan grabbed her shoulders. “You leave now, I’ll make sure you’re fired. If you want to stay, you’re gonna have to blow me!”
Michelle stomped down on the top of Alan’s right foot with as much force as she could muster. Alan yelled and almost released her from his grasp. Michelle drove her left elbow into Alan’s stomach but Alan turned and brought his left arm up in a headlock around her throat. She felt his breath at her right ear as he applied a vice-like grip around her neck. She began to scream. “Get your fucking hands—” and then she was silenced by the meaty weight of his palm, suffocating her nose and mouth.
Michelle struggled wildly in his grip, stomping her feet, trying to elbow him again; she felt her elbow strike his torso, heard a mutter of pain. She tried to bite through his palm and then she felt a sharp pain on her right shoulder blade that paralyzed her. Alan’s voice muttered in her ear. “Calm down. I had to make sure you were real. Just calm down.”
The pain was so paralyzing that Michelle couldn’t fight back. Her vision went blurry; tears sprang to her eyes. She felt her breathing quicken as she thought, he’s going to kill me, he’s going to kill me, dear God he’s going to—
“I had to make sure you haven’t been influenced yet,” Alan whispered in her ear. “That was just a test. I’m not going to say anything to Sam, and I’m not going to report you to anybody. I’m here to help.”
The pressure on her shoulder blade subsided and the pain began to diminish. “I know about Dennis and Alma, and I know about Sam and the rest of them,” Alan continued. “I also know about Jay O’Rourke and some of his co-workers at Building Products. Corporate Financial has got a lot of those people now. Jay’s not one of them, but some of his co-workers are now. They’ll probably have them all by the end of the week.”
At the mention of Jay’s name Michelle stiffened. She drew in a breath and felt Alan’s grip around her neck loosen. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth. Don’t scream. Please… I don’t want this to be ugly. You’re not one of them so I can trust you. Right?”
Michelle tried to say yes and nodded. She felt Alan’s grip on her loosen and his hand came away from her mouth. She breathed and looked at him through hazy eyes as he stood before her. “What’s going on?” she whispered.
Alan raised a finger to her and winced. He raised his right foot up and gingerly rubbed the top of it with his fingers. “Damn, you got me good.”
Michelle felt her heart race. She was nervous and scared. This was all happening so fast she didn’t know who to believe or trust. “Tell me what’s going on now or I call the police.”