Marry me

Chapter Twenty-Eight.

Please accept this double update as a peace offering.

***

Like every other day, Trevelyan Enterprises was full, buzzing with energy from both the staff and the non-staff. It was like a jungle- an organized jungle where every man was for himself. That was the standard around there. Everyone wanted to impress the higher-ups.

But the moment I stepped out of the elevator on that dreadful Monday, I could immediately sense that something was wrong. It wasn't the state of unrest among everybody that gave it away. Hell, it wasn't even the fact that every staff in the hall had at least two cups of coffee on their desks which was kind of expected for a Monday morning at TE. No. None of those made my chaos radar bleep like crazy.

It was the mere fact that Joe, who was one of the laziest employees that somehow always got away with sluggishness, was working more frantic than some of the others.

My eyes followed him as he speed-walked past me as fast as a constipated track star in the Olympics, mumbling gibberish. "How could I have forgotten to document the e-files that gloskerpwknxo..."

Now I didn't know Joe much but it was common knowledge that when Joe actually tried to do something productive (which is about a millisecond close to never), it was either because money is involved or the world is ending.

"What's happening?" I asked when I got to Susan's cubicle whose occupant was busy typing on her system at machine-gun speed, eyes fleeting to and fro across the screen.

She barely spared me a glance. "And where the heck have you been, Mrs. Trevelyan?"

"Miss Greene," I corrected, rolling my eyes. "But really, why is everyone more enthusiastic about their work than usual? It's Monday."

"Sure, Miss Greene," she said with emphasis. She gave a tired sigh and turned her attention back to her system. "Apparently, about thirty-five percent of employees were laid-off yesterday just before closing hours. I'm not sure how true that is but I haven't seen a handful of co-workers since this morning."

"Thirty-five?" I exclaimed, "Damn, that's brutal."

"My thoughts exactly. Now, everybody thinks they're next and are actually eager to work. It's usually like this, this time of the year."

"This time of the year?"

Someone hand me a frigging best-in-conversation award.

"I guess," she said with a note of finality in her voice that told me our conversation was over.

As I retreated to a place that has become my haven at TE (my office), I couldn't help but shake off the feeling that something was wrong somewhere.

Very wrong.

*

I raised my fist to knock on the door that led to Mr. Trevelyan's office. A grunt came from the other side of the door and I took that as my cue to walk in.

Mr. Trevelyan stood beside the window that gave a nice view of New York's skyline. He breathed hard, his suit-clad chest rising and falling. A hand was fisted in his pocket and his other hand held a cup of coffee. He lifted the cup to his lips and took a long sip. I winced- that cup was definitely piping hot when I brought it in. What is he, a coolbox?

"What?" he said.

Translation: My lovely assistant and part-time wife, how are you and what brings you to my beautiful office today?

As usual, Mr. Trevelyan was clearly in a pleasant morning mood.

I cleared my throat gently. "The details of the lunch meeting you will be having with Mr. Grant, CEO of Grant Group of Industries have been drawn out. It is on your table, Sir. Reservations for the lunch meeting have already been made at Dexter's. After the lunch meeting, the next meeting is at five-thirty with the board of directors of the merger companies. Also, the process of transfer of interns from the other branches has begun."