Boss undercover series b.., p.43
Boss Undercover Series Bundle, page 43
Zack swallowed, nodding as he waved his hand to usher her permission. “Yes, you can. I shall be leaving in a second myself,” he declared. She scuttled quickly out the room, leaving him alone.
***
Claire
The board dismissed her. She was miserable as she left the room, her posture slouching as she sluggishly made advance to the wall opposite the room and began to rummage for her phone within her bag. This couldn’t be happening. Fired. None of this made sense. They weren’t my emails. I never sent those. But it was there printed black and white, physical evidence of a non-existent conversation she was accused of having with some other contact conspiring against the company.
Claire wanted to cry. She wanted to tear the place apart. She wanted to yell and scream and shout, but instead she chose to remain calm, watching as members of the board exited the room, chatting and displaying smug expressions, completely ignoring her presence. They were chuffed with themselves, unable to see that their actions were wrong. I hadn’t done anything, she thought.
What about the bills? Food? How am I going to survive? What am I going to do now? I have no job. I’ve lost a friend; my best friend is practically dead from his loss, and now I have no financial stability. Claire was consumed with dread, utterly broken. All that waiting for two weeks and yet as the board had politely said, They’d already decided my fate. She wasn’t sure what to do. All these emotions of anger, disbelief, and distress were burning through her veins. She didn’t know what to with them.
Her hands shakily grasped her phone after digging it from beneath her purse. It was hard as she sought for Zack’s number. She needed him more than ever.
He picked up on the second ring. “Claire? What happened? What did they say?”
Her voice trembled. “They’ve dismissed me, Zack. They’ve actually dismissed me. I just—just don’t understand. They accused me of conspiring against the company. And they have these emails that have my email address associated to these messages. Like what the hell! God, I have no job!” Tears were threatening to brim within her eyes as she sunk down against the wall. Then she added quietly, “I’m coming down to the department to collect my things. Will you be there for me?”
“Of course.”
Claire hung up, trying as best to stand up. She just couldn’t understand any of this.
It didn’t take long to return to the department. The department she could no longer call home. Each face engaged in their activity had no idea. Not a single idea. They didn’t know this was her last day. Most of them probably wouldn’t care.
She pushed the strap of her bag across her shoulder as she slowly trailed to her desk. Jason caught up to her side to ask her how she was. Claire lied to his face, smiled, and went on. It was too real if she told him the truth. She’d rather maintain the façade, pretend that everything was all right, than face reality.
As she expected, Zack sat at her desk, his hand cupping his chin as he intensely stared off into the distance. He seemed preoccupied but broke from his trance immediately when she dropped her bag onto the floor beside him. She was thankful that her cubicle blocked any prying eyes.
“Claire,” he spoke softly, standing up as he embraced her within his arms. She wanted to choke tears, but strangely enough she kept strong, reeling her emotions far away as she tightened her grip around his torso. It felt like home. His lips kissed the top of her head.
“I’m so sorry,” he muttered, rubbing his hand then across her back. “This is wrong.”
Claire snorted as she pulled back. “Why are you sorry for? Heck, it’s not your fault.” She sighed as she completely detached from him and took her seat. “I just don’t understand. You believe me, don’t you? I couldn’t—”
“Of course, I do,” he cut in. “I know that wasn’t you. But what we should be thinking, who’s planted this on you? Because someone must have.”
Claire lifted her brows. “Is it bad I want to blame Monica?” Her short chuckle was dry and humourless as she began to collect her things from her desk. Zack was quiet behind her. She looked behind to see him narrowing his eyes to the left of the aisle at something or someone.
“What’s up?” she asked curiously.
Zack shook his head. “I’m just annoyed for you.” Then he squeezed her shoulders. “We’ll fight this, Claire.”
“How?” she said defeatedly. “What could I possibly do to change things now?” Claire exhaled, turning to face her desk as she continued to pack what she could manage into her handbag. “I’ve been dismissed. I have no job. I probably won’t ever get another. They’ll have this on my record as we speak. Face it, I’m done for.”
His persistence was admirable, she had to admit. He was trying his best to reassure her. “Claire, don’t give up. We’ll figure something out. We’ll fight this. Get a lawyer or—do something.”
Claire didn’t reply.
“Miss Winter, my office,” she heard the familiar old, raspy voice of Graves intruding into their space. Claire turned in her seat, watching as Graves stalked away.
“Claire, don’t,” Zack warned.
“Why?”
“He’s nothing but trouble. Let’s just go. I’ll come up with an excuse,” he explained, sounding desperate for Claire to stray away from him.
“I should see what he has to say. Besides, maybe, it will be my chance to speak my mind. I’m a free woman, after all,” she stated confidently, standing up and complying with Graves’ order. “I have nothing else to lose.”
Graves was sitting at his desk when she entered. That sprout of confidence she felt suddenly died as she closed the door behind her. The reality was sinking in deeper. She was fired. No job. And her former boss was looking meaner than ever as he pulled a face of disappointment as she meekly stepped further into his cage.
“Miss Winter,” he began. They were even back on terms of formality. “It’s a disappointment, to say the least. My top employee within this department and you’ve disgraced us all by conspiring…but it’s your own fault.” He narrowed his eyes. “You can’t do anything now.”
“Mr. Graves, I have by no means done what I have been accused of. I can only say this, however: I’m glad I no longer have to be manipulated by you and Monica Andrews. I shall not miss the constant work you put on me. So, if that’s all, I shall be leaving,” she replied firmly.
Graves seemed to adopt suspicion within his eyes. “You have no idea, do you?” he muttered.
“What do you mean?”
He cleared his throat. “That—that I was planning on giving you the promotion instead,” he spoke hastily, gesturing his hands forward as he lazily pointed at her. “But you have gone and done this. So, I’m sorry that you’ve been so foolish, Miss Winter.”
“I’m not so sure I’m convinced about that, Mr. Graves. But if that is the case, I would have rejected it,” she responded before dismissing herself without allowing another word.
Chapter Three
Zack
Claire had barely touched her food. Her fork was playing with the meatball rolling from one end of the plate to the mountain of mash on the right side. He intentionally cleared his throat, hoping to catch her attention, but she remained stubbornly stuck in a trance. Not that he could blame her. Her Tuesday had been disastrous.
“Claire, we’ll work through this,” he stated, reaching for her hand across the table. She looked up, offering a weak smile before turning back to her plate of food she continued to play with. “Are you not going to eat?”
She shook her head.
This was destroying him. He hated seeing her so lifeless and miserable. This isn’t what he wanted nor intended. It should be Graves without the job. He should be paying the punishment. Not Claire.
“Claire, maybe I should be honest about—”
But he was cut off by the abrupt intrusion of her mobile ringing on the side of the table. He glanced at the screen—it was her mother calling. Claire seemed to sit up more as she edged her hand slowly towards the electronic device but was hesitant as to whether she wanted to respond to the beckoning call. After all, he could only imagine she was fearing admitting to her mother she had lost her job.
“Are you not going to answer it?”
Claire pressed her lips tightly together. She was contemplating over it. Another three rings and then she picked it up and slid her finger across the screen to answer. Zack remained quiet as he observed her communicate, trying her best to sound content than what she was really feeling.
“Hey, Mom. No, I’m okay,” she replied, a clear lie as she slowly got up. Claire squeezed Zack’s shoulder as she passed him before what he could assume was her needing space as she headed towards her bedroom.
Zack remained sitting there. What was he going to do? How on earth could he sort out this mess? His mess. For a moment, Zack knew he was going to confess until that phone call. Maybe it was selfish to have put another dilemma in Claire’s court. Maybe he should be thankful for that call. To think he could have admitted to who he really was. Then what? Claire would just accept it and they’d live happily ever after? Of course not. It would be another punch in the face. Another problem weighing down on her shoulders.
But he needed to do something. Anything. To make things right at the cost of his company’s sake.
He stood up and then placed Claire’s dish in the microwave for safe-keeping before he headed out the kitchen towards her bedroom. On the other side of the door, he could hear her diving into her circumstance, admitting her job loss. Her voice was on the verge of crying at any point. Zack decided to quietly enter. She was startled by his presence, but it did not falter her attention to the phone.
“Yeah, I know. I know. I just don’t understand—”
Zack sat on the left hand side of the bed before kicking his legs on and then encouraging her to nestle within his arms. She complied, resting her head against his bicep as she continued to converse and listen to whatever her mother had to say.
The conversation must have carried on for another fifteen minutes before Claire ended the call. She didn’t say anything at first nor did he. Instead, they both chose to remain silent.
“I told her,” Claire finally said. “She’s angry at their decision. She said to me that we’ll get through it like you’ve been saying. But…it doesn’t make difference. I’m still jobless.”
“But we will get through this,” Zack reassured, rubbing his hand up and down her shoulder.
“Do you still want to go to my brother’s wedding with me?” She changed subjects.
“Yes, of course. You know I said I will.”
“Good.”
Zack bit his inner cheek. “Claire.” He paused. No, he couldn’t bring it up. The time wasn’t right. It just wouldn’t be fair. “Just keep positive. I’m sure everything will get better.”
It was difficult to pretend that everything was all right when it was far from. Zack wasn’t even sure why he was still keeping this façade up. Claire had lost her job, he had no ideas on how to get Graves to rat out his mystery accomplice, and the failure of his projects were amounting to more pressure on his shoulders.
***
Claire had been desperately circling jobs ads in the morning newspaper, unable to comprehend that with an attached side note of conspiracy charged against her name, she pretty much had a narrow choice to who was willing to employ her. Any of the bigger companies with similar roles wouldn’t even turn an eye to her. Zack knew that. Her employability record was tainted because of Graves and whoever he had hiding up his sleeve.
“At this point, I’ll be lucky if I get a job. All of these will want a reference from my last employer. I’m just gonna have to find a small shop or something, find someone who will either turn a blind eye or not ask for my employability record,” Claire explained, sounding fed up and frustrated as she folded the paper in half.
Zack was sitting opposite, quiet and shamefully guilty. This just wasn’t fair. This shouldn’t be happening. Claire didn’t deserve this. This was all his fault. He shouldn’t have stepped into her life. He’d brought all this onto her. And he knew it was only going to get worse once the truth finally slipped out.
“Shouldn’t you be getting to work?” she inquired, looking up from her coffee mug and meeting his eyes.
Zack shook his head. “It—doesn’t matter. I’m just going to stay home and make sure you’re okay. I—”
“Zack, don’t be silly. You can’t not go to work because of me,” she interjected. “Besides…you’re the breadwinner at this moment until I find another job. I have just enough to cover next month’s rent and afford some…food.” Claire groaned as she ran her hands through her hair. “God, I hate feeling so dependent. It just sucks.”
“You’ll find a job, Claire,” he reassured, providing comfort to her hand across the table. His fingers caressed the soft pad of skin. “I’m sure of it.” Doubts were nagging him as he sat back in his chair and slipped his hand away from hers. Was everything going to be all right? Could he promise that? And what if she knew that he literally had the authority to change things and prevented what shouldn’t have happened but didn’t because selfishly he was too concerned about his company and the outside contact sticking their noses in? Wouldn’t that change things? Claire wouldn’t look at him the same. She’d hate him.
“I’ll be…fine.” She exhaled. “Just—just don’t worry about me and go to work. I don’t want to be the reason for you losing your job,” she said, trying to present a strong smile that was failing to convince Zack.
But he’d complied, knowing Claire was stubborn as a mule and would persist ceaselessly.
Maybe if he was lucky something would crop up.
At least that’s what he hoped when he exited the lift shaft and stepped into the department. Zack was a little clueless to what to do. Looking around at the maze of cubicles, he was wondering why on earth he was bothering to keep up appearances down here. But what was he supposed to do upstairs? He’d made it transparent to Olivia that he clearly knew not what to do with the impending problem of Graves.
Why did I bother? I should have just listened to my father. This quest for sustainability was stupid. Even someone on the outside agrees. The thoughts swarmed his mind as he walked slowly towards Claire’s empty desk.
Not a soul was there. The removal of her belongings made the sight look like a death. It just didn’t look right. Zack exhaled as he pulled the desktop chair out and sunk down onto it. There was not a trace of her, he believed, until his fingers ran across a sticky note stuck beneath the letter tray poking its head out. He picked it out, smiling a little to himself as he recognised Claire’s dainty handwriting. It was an old reminder to pick up bread on the way out of work, perhaps months old from its hidden presence.
God, what was he going to do?
Someone tapped his shoulder softly. Zack flinched a little before he swivelled the chair around. Jason was standing there, appearing a little apprehensive himself as he cleared his throat.
“Sorry, I didn’t know—I guess.” He paused, pushing his hands into his trouser pockets. “I guess I just didn’t think Claire was like that,” he finally said after what could have only seemed a desperate second or two to articulate the words.
Zack rejected his statement. “Claire didn’t.”
“I just assumed because of what Graves said this morning that—”
“Well, she didn’t. Some bastard has had it out for her. And for you to think that Claire could actually do something like that is low—” He cut him off, narrowing his eyes as the shame shadowed over Jason’s face.
“I just…Graves just went through it this morning, and when Claire didn’t say anything the other day, I just assumed—I’m sorry. I feel like a bad friend. God, this isn’t right,” he admitted, bringing his hand to his forehead and rubbing back the short strands of blond hair in vexation.
Zack didn’t say a word.
“Well…tell Claire hi from me, and if she needs a friend, I’m here,” he finished, perhaps acknowledging Zack’s silence as a sign for his presence to diminish.
Jason dispersed, and yet the silence of peace Zack hoped for was interrupted by the worst human Zack could think of. Graves. He stopped inside the cubicle, suspicious it seemed of Zack occupying the supposed desolate space. His blue shirt was creased around the collar, and his grey hair was bedraggled and looked like it needed a cut. Bags of sleep rested under his eyes, showing his war with sleep.
“I didn’t expect anyone to be in here,” Graves muttered rather quietly, his lips twitching and moving uncomfortably over one another. Perhaps he was going to investigate, search for any remaining clues that could give him insight to Claire’s involvement. The cubicle was empty besides the computer, keyboard, tower, and mouse.
Zack lifted his left brow. He was intentionally prying as he asked Graves the simple question. “Do you really think Claire conspired against the company?”
“Mr. Chase, I believe the evidence. If that’s what the board has found, then of course, I have no doubts, but to put my hundred percent confidence in what they’ve decided…I must admit it was a shame and a surprise to hear that my top employee was behind the motive. But that’s just that,” he replied, his underlining tone sinister.
Zack wanted more than anything to confront Graves right here and now, to expose the truth and watch the fear flicker in his eyes, but he chose against. He had to extract the vital information about the mysterious accomplice first before striking Graves off the list. How was the question.
“Now if you don’t mind, Mr. Chase, I need to make the final checks to ensure there’s nothing incriminating that Miss Winter has left behind. You never know,” he stated.
Zack stood up, trying his best to remain calm as he exited the cubicle.
***
Claire
What was one supposed to do with all this free time? Twiddle your thumbs? Sit by the apartment window staring out onto the street and counting the cars as they passed by? Oh, look, that’s three yellow cars I’ve seen go by! Or, oh look, I wonder what that person is up to!
