The accountant threw his arms around Jackson’s leg just as he started toward the door, crying, “No, no, Mr. West, please! I’m begging you! My parents… They are in ill health, Mr. West! My mom needs meds to survive! If they heard of this, I don’t think they would be able to stomach it at all! Please, please… I can return that money, I swear, I swear—”
The accountant wept, but no amount of tears could soften Jackson’s heart. Everyone had that little line in their mind that, when crossed, would compel one to deny others mercy. Jackson’s happened to align with the law.
Shrugging the accountant off of him, he returned to the office without sparing the teary accountant so much as a glance.
Tiffany and Amy, whose ears were perked up to listen in on everything, sat up straight and solemnly when he walked in.
Jackson’s steam did not seem to have petered out, though, which was evident in the way he furiously flipped through the documents in his desk as though he could not find the exact paper he was looking for. Gingerly, Tiffany asked, “What are you, um, looking for? May I help?”
He leaned into the back of his chair slightly and massaged his forehead. “No, I’m fine. You can go back to work.”
Furtively, Amy signaled Tiffany to stop talking. Approaching Jackson right now was obviously a suicidal decision. Tiffany responded with a purse of her lips before wordlessly turning her head back to her computer and pretending to stare at it.
She remembered hearing folks claiming that computer radiation could harm a fetus. Hence, she took the cactus plant from the desk Jackson occupied with the conviction of someone who knew the cactus had always belonged to her and placed it nearby.
Suddenly, Jackson asked, “Why did you take that cactus? What, afraid of radiation? Please, your face is already peppered with blemishes.”
Tiffany pulled out her smartphone and stared at her selfie-camera, suspicious. “Uh! Liar! What blemishes? All I see is my skin being pearly and glowing! And by the way, can you like, not pick me as your venting target? This cactus belongs to me. What’s wrong with me moving my thing over to my place? And, p.s? I’m not afraid of radiation-induced spots or anything silly like that!”
‘I’m just worried about our baby,’ she finished quietly in her head.
A thoughtful look shadowed Amy’s face. “Seriously, what’s… the relationship between you and Jackson? You’re suddenly here as the assistant director, and when his best bro’s sick, you’re just as cranky—and both of you were simultaneously absent for a few days. Did the two of you visit that sick friend together?”
Tiffany became quiet for a minute before answering, “If you must know… Fine, I’m his ex-fiancé. I know, I know. That’s a shocker, isn’t it? Frankly, I’m just as shocked that this had ever happened between us before, too. But anyway, you done being nosy? Let’s get back to work then. I honestly hate overtime…”
That sentiment was further vindicated by the fact that an expecting mother required long hours of quality sleep, too. But every time Tiffany returned from overtime work, all that bathing and washing up would cost her time to watch an episode or two of her favorite drama. If she insisted on getting her entertainment fix despite that, it would push her sleeping hour to midnight!
What a stressful way to live.
Jackson had not made an appearance in the company after he stormed off, though the finance department's affairs were more or less settled. Throughout the evening, everyone in the office was gossiping about that poor accountant’s fate, who would likely be jailed for a few years.
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