Chapter 9: Move On

With my computer bag and purse, I knocked on Mr. Leoné's door. I didn't bother to look to my left, though the office light was on. I knew she was just doing her job, but it still upset me that it felt like nothing to be told I didn't need to do mine.

A door opened, but it wasn't his. Forced to look to my left, Mr. Leoné walked out of Baddone's office and shut her door.

"Are you on your way out?" he asked, glancing at my bag.

I nodded, and he said, "Good."

"Chris suggested I come by before I take the rest of the day off," I said quietly, trying my hardest not to look into Baddone's window.

He signaled I come into his office for a moment, and I shadowed him. Before he could finish shutting the door, I blurted, "I'm so sorry for my outbursts upstairs.

Mr. Leoné pointed to the couch. "Calme-toi, (Calm down) Ada. Sit down, and tell me what's going on with you?"

Frustrated with myself, I rolled my eyes and obliged his request to sit. "I'm just stressed, and I do apologize for continually bringing it into the office setting."

"Why are you stressed?"

I shrugged casually. "It's personal."

He mildly rolled his eyes. "What is it?"

My face tightened, and I averted my gaze. What? I didn't care for his tone, and I didn't understand why he would become annoyed by my answer. This conversation was supposed to be simple and about the status of my job. Sure, I invited questions through my little moment upstairs, but my position was insulted. I wanted to talk about that.

"Is everything all right at home?" He asked. Seriously, man?

"Things are fine," I lied at first. "But I will need to request time off soon."

"For what?" He didn't think twice about asking these questions, and it bothered me.

"Mr. Leoné, again, it's personal."

"You've had no issues sharing personal information before," he said flatly.

I cracked. I moved my shoulders expressively. "Oh my–okay! I'm looking for a new place to live, and I'll be moving soon, okay?"

"What's wrong with where you live now? What happened?"

"Ada, I just want to help."

"I don't need it," I stood up, startling him. "I appreciate what you can do for me here, but I... I have to go."

He rolled his lips in and sighed. The clear displeasure on his face made it that much easier for me to leave. On the train ride home, my head was in a cloudy fishbowl. I was hungry and stressed, but what was new? Actually...

Mr. Leoné continued to mess with my emotions. There could never be a middle ground. He always went too far. Why did he care that much about my life, and was he like that with everyone? Our work relationship has been difficult to describe, but in layman's terms, it was fucking weird.

Getting back to my apartment, shock immediately tipped over my bowl. I heard muffled little meows, and I sped to the living room. She wasn't there but her cries came from my closed bedroom.

"Oh, my god!" I yanked open my door, and she shrieked around my feet. I picked her up and surveyed my room. Of course! She peed and pooped around my bed and I couldn't be upset at her about it. I never close my door, so she can sleep if she wants to. My head has been all over the place, did I forget? I apologized to her, being at fault until I saw her bowl and water behind my door. I pulled out my phone and texted speedily.

Greta replied, "Oh I didn't know you'd be home so early. She was crying a lot and then clawed at the couch before hiding in your room. I put her in things where she might be more comfortable."

I didn't reply to that bullshit. I've never seen Cinna Buns claw at the furniture, but she was still a cat and could have. I didn't have an argument that would make me sound reasonable. Keeping my rage to myself, I took a few deep breaths and put Cinna Buns in down to clean her accidents. For someone who is so concerned about rent, Greta didn't seem concerned about the security deposit or putting the litter box in my room to avoid this mess.

It's like my cat knew when I was on edge. Her normally crotchety behavior was merely observant and out of my way. I sat next to her on the bed and looked down at her. "I think it's time we get serious about getting a new place."

Getting a little meow back warmed me up, and I felt a little less alone because it was no surprise that Greta came home hours later and we said nothing.

A week later, I thought it was soon, but I felt confident about the pet-friendly one-bedroom I found. The plus was it was closer to work. The downside was that I still had to handle all the paperwork, make trips to the bank, pack up my belongings, consider keeping or dumping furniture, and then move! Ugh!

Then again, if I turned in all the documents as soon as possible, I would have wiggle room for gradually moving my belongings in. After a long status-update meeting, I quietly asked Mr. Leoné if he had a moment to speak with me after. He nodded, and we were quiet on the trip down to his office. Things always felt a little awkward when I was around him. Even after he defended me, I didn't have the chance to appreciate it for even a minute. What was it about him that got under my skin? I took a few glances at him as he and Renee confirmed security measures on the testing devices. Mr. Leoné wasn't even looking at me, yet I still felt unnerved by him.

Finally, in his office, he immediately asked, "How are you? I haven't heard from you in some time."

"You just saw me in a meeting," I joked, somewhat. I wasn't taking my guard down for anything. I didn't want to fight over my personal business again.

"I meant in terms of health." He grumbled, and I sank a little. Yeah, it's a nice question. I'll let him have that.

"I'm okay." Accepting his pondering as a harmless inquiry for my sanity.

"What about your relocation?"

I sighed, "That's why I'm here. I CC'ed you on the email I sent to Chris about the days I need off in a week."

"Have you updated your paperwork in the systems?"

"The portal is down right now, but I have a few documents left when it returns."

"Okay good."

"Is anyone helping you?"

My attention darted away for a split second, "Um, no?"

His brow flashed, and his poker face melted into a frown. "You don't have any help?"

"No, I'll be doing most of it myself. I don't have that much stuff. Renting a truck won't be all that hard. I just have to hire movers for my furniture." I finished with a shrug, but he didn't move. Oh, well. I refused to make it my job to understand what his face tried to say.

Finally, it was the end of the day. There was so much on my plate that needed addressing for the move, and in all honesty, I didn't know where to start. Maybe, I'd get food first. I could make a side trip to the bank or the new complex to gather the paperwork.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my hand. It was a phone call from an unknown number I hunched my bags onto my shoulder and answered, "Is this Ms. Ada Young?"

"This is she?" I looked away.

"This is Christian's Moving and Storage. I was told to contact you about scheduling a moving day."

"Oh, yeah. I will actually have to give you a call back to schedule an appointment. Is the number you're using an appropriate line to call you back?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Perfect!"

When I hung up, I turned up my head and took in a deep breath. I carefully put my bags down in my chair and left my cube. Baddone was in her office and we caught each other, but I quickly turned back to my target and knocked on his door.

His eyes appeared large as I entered silently and pushed my back against the door.

Pinching my pointer finger and thumb, I raised my hand to my head. The words were right there. I could feel them in my brain, and I knew they wanted to flood out. But if I began, a stenographer would translate me into a page of Wingdings.

"Yes, Ada?"

The rage boiled to the surface, and I felt myself about to pop. Here it is! Here we go!

"Why?" I whispered. Really?! That's all I can get out!?

He turned his head to the side. "Why what?"

"Did you give my information to the very expensive Christian's Moving and Storage?"

"I figured I would lend a helping hand," he shrugged, and the smirk on his face released the hounds.

I pointed my fingers at me and paced. "On what Earth, did you think I needed your help with moving?"

Mr. Leone rested his elbow on his chair arm and looked around. "The one where you own an animal who attacks you, the one where you don't feed yourself regularly, and the one where you are hyper-emotional in the workplace because you're stressed."

"How dare you," I whispered.

"I'm only trying to help." He narrowed his eyes. Was he actually confused?

I pointed at him, "How fucking dare you."

He stood to his feet. "Pardon?"

Striking my chest, I stepped closer. "You don't have the right to assume that I can't take care of myself."

"As far as I can see, you can't," he spat back. Mr. Leoné squared his shoulders with me.

I approached his face. "And you can't stay out of my business for some goddamn reason. But I just want to let you know right now, if you were considering extending or converting my contract, I will not be accepting the offer."

"Rethink what you're saying to me," he growled.

"Why because I can't possibly understand what I'm feeling either?" I waved a finger between us. "This work relationship has by far been one of the most unbelievably horrible experiences of my life. It is inappropriate, and I don't know what you're trying to get at, but I don't like you like that. How could anyone when you pull stunts like this? I was being friendly with my boss, period! We are not friends, let alone anything else. Let that be very clear."

His face was the reddest I had ever seen. "Go."

"Am I fired?" I asked pointedly.

"Go back to your desk."

"Answer the question, Mr. Leoné!"

He repeated himself, but this time he pointed to the door. I scoffed and threw my hands up. Looked like I would have to look for another job too.

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Chapter 10 Releases - 3/31/2020!!