Axes & O’s

2. Nathan

Chapter 2

Nathan

“Nathan, did you get my email?”

My head pops up to meet the blank stare of my manager, Kathy. She’s got on an oversized white sweater that blends in with her pale skin. If she was standing against a white wall, you’d miss her. Scratch that. You’d see her red lipstick and that’s it. Just red lips. Big, giant, bright-red lips that, when opened, micromanage the shit out of me.

“Which one?” The snide question is out of my mouth before I can stop it. Those stained red lips press together, and I swear the pronounced blue vein on her forehead pulses like a worm.

“The one about the Newman presentation. I need the entire slide deck proofed again. It has typos on it.”

My jaw ticks. There aren’t any typos on that fucking slide deck. I’ve proofed it near a million times. “I’ve gone over it, Kathy. I promise, it’s good to go.”

“You didn’t open my last email from four pm.”

An exasperated sigh catches in my chest as I stare at the woman I’m certain is the devil in disguise. Her muddy-brown eyes are narrowed, and she doesn’t blink as she waits for my answer. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her blink. Maybe she’s a robot.

“You sent a different email this morning about the deck,” I reiterate. “I looked it over. I promise—it’s good to go.”

Her lips press together so tightly, all I can see is a thin red line. The action only makes the vein in her forehead pulse harder. I understand my pushback could get me fired or at least warrant a warning. But I’m beyond caring. I’m tired, I’m overworked, and I should be on Christmas vacation by now. But no—instead, I’m still here, stuck with Kathy the Grinch until she lets me leave.

She crosses her arms over her chest. “But you never emailed it back to me for a final proof. That’s what the email was about, and I want to see it. The slide deck needs to be perfect, and you know that only I can find double spaces. You had two the last time I checked.”

My hand clenches around my mouse. I’m convinced this woman puts in double spaces just so she can chastise me. I was born after typewriter conventions were a thing, so I don’t put double spaces after periods. Not to mention, I told her verbally in passing that the deck was proofed and ready to go. But apparently she wasn’t listening. Or she was, and she’s just doing this to be a jerk.

“I swear, Kathy. The slide deck is perfect. I did my job. It’s done.”

Her high heel taps on the floor like a petulant child, and I think I can see steam coming out of her head. “I’m your manager, Nathan,” she huffs. “You do what I ask. Please send me the current deck so I can look it over. You know I need to approve the changes.”

I lower my gaze from her heated one and glance at my watch. It’s after six and three days before Christmas. I had wanted to get on the road early to avoid holiday traffic, but clearly that’s not happening.

Kathy’s still standing near my desk with her arms crossed and an expectant look on her face. For a split second, I debate whether I should keep antagonizing her or not, but I’d rather get the hell out of here before she finds something else for me to do. I exhale a breath and open my email, finding the one she sent at four pm among a slew of other emails from people asking me for stupid things that they one-hundred-percent could do on their own.

With a few more clicks, I attach the deck and send it to her. “Okay, you have it.”

Kathy doesn’t say thank you. Instead, she stalks back to her office without another word. I grit my teeth and take out my phone to text my older sister, Lindsey.

I sigh, even more upset that I’m now going to disappoint my six-year-old niece because of my jerk of a manager.

I read my sister’s last text a few times. I’ve debated quitting my position at this marketing agency a lot over the last year, especially in the last month. I don’t know what crawled up Kathy’s butt, but she’s been more of a twat than usual. Every time I talk to Lindsey about it, she tells me to get a new job. But the money is good, I get great benefits, and the job makes my mom happy. I’ve also been working my way up the ladder the last couple of years to snag a director position and eventually be the boss of people instead of them being the boss of me.

My email pings, taking me out of my thoughts. Of course, it’s from Kathy. Nobody’s left in the office except for us, so she could have just told me what she had to say.

With an eye roll, I open the email to see she says I missed another space. I swear to god, this woman gets off on being this way. There’s no way that was there when I sent it to her. It truly makes me wonder if she’s doing it just to keep me here. Maybe she’s lonely and wants company. But I’m not going to try to psychoanalyze my manager when all I want to do is leave.

I delete the space she’s highlighted then save and send the doc back to her. Once I’m sure the email is fully sent, I begin to shut down my computer. I can answer the rest of the emails from my sister’s if need be, but the office is closed all next week for the holidays, and everyone is gone. I want to be gone, too. Kathy can deal with it.

I reach for the messenger bag I have tucked near the side of my desk and then take my suit coat off the back of my chair, standing to put it on. My stomach growls as I pack up, reminding me I haven’t eaten since this morning. I’ll have to hit up a drive-through on my way to Starlight Haven. If I don’t, I won’t be eating until I get to my sister’s since everything in her remote California mountain town closes early.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

My head turns to find Kathy stalking toward me with gusto in her step. I should just not answer and walk out, but I’m too nice for that.

I place my bag over my shoulder and grab my travel mug from my desk. “Home,” I lie, not wanting to divulge any of my personal life to this mad woman.

“I have something else I need you to look at.”

“No. ”

Kathy’s eyes bug out of her head, and to be honest, I think mine do, too. But I’ve had it, and I don’t regret saying no. I should’ve been doing it for a long time now. But as Lindsey would say, I’m allergic to that word. I’m a people pleaser, especially with a dad who expected us to never say no and always follow the rules. I even had an ex call me a golden retriever once, always aiming to please. Which I’m not saying is a bad thing—I do like to please—but sometimes I wish I could be a pit bull. Maybe it’s time I started trying to act like one.

“Nathan,” Kathy says, that stupid vein on her forehead pulsing again. “We aren’t done working yet. I need you to stay until seven.”

I hike my bag further up my shoulder, my fist clenching around my mug as my sister’s voice enters my head: You should quit that soul-sucking job.

“I’ll have to tell Mr. Brentmoor about this if you leave now,” Kathy adds.

Our boss, Mr. Brentmoor—who isn’t a bad boss, per se—probably wouldn’t care that I left. But I don’t trust Kathy to tell the truth. Knowing her, she’d make it seem as if I was being hostile or not doing my job. When in actuality, I do too much. And it’s not like I get paid overtime for all the evenings I’ve stayed late or mornings I’ve come in early; I’m salaried.

I take a step back as Kathy watches me carefully. Even though the exit is toward her, I don’t want her to find my behavior threatening. I may not be a very large guy at five-foot-nine, but I do work out, and she’s a tiny human. I’ve often questioned if she eats more than just protein shakes and bars.

“I need you to stay, Nathan.”

I take another couple of steps back then walk toward the exit, giving her a wide berth. When our bodies are parallel, I pause to meet her confused glare.

“I’m not staying, Kathy.”

“But—”

“I quit.”

Her mouth drops open, and I don’t wait for her to respond. I hasten my steps so I don’t lose my nerve and try to take it back, pushing open the office doors as Kathy’s eyes watch me leave. The cooler air from the hallway hits me, and I suck in a calming breath, taking another step, then another, until I’m at the elevator that will take me to the parking garage.

It isn’t until the heavy doors slide shut that I let out a loud laugh. The noise springs free from my chest and bounces off the metal walls, echoing back in my ears. The joyful sound is foreign, but it feels good. Really good. Before I know it, I’m laughing in earnest. Cackling, even. I can’t believe I just did that. I can’t believe I quit my job.

Holy. Shit. I quit my job.

I quit my job.

Fuck. Fucking fuck.

I quit my job.