Desk Jockey Jam
“And what kind of a bastard act was it, given Anthony simply had to understand every piece of electronic communication in the office was stored for audit trails? It didn’t matter whether the email was deleted off their computers, it lived on in the firm’s servers, forever accessible, forever suggesting Bree Robinson was—what? He hadn’t put two and two together about roller derby or she’d have heard about it. He wouldn’t have been able to help himself. So, what precisely did he think she was—...clumsy? And what did he mean by asking if there was anything he could do in relation to that. Did he mean to walk beside her and stop her bumping into furniture or...
Oh God. She jumped up from her desk as if it’s been electrified. Anthony thought she was being victimised, smacked around. Oh dear God. In his blundering way he was genuinely trying to help.
She sat back down; glad to her You’re a Piza Work pink toenail polish no one had witnessed her panicked state. She spent the next half hour furtively watching the door from the lift well for Anthony—no Ant, she needed to start thinking of him as Ant—a dunderhead who was trying to be gallant. If you considered gallant boxing her in a small room, ignoring her requests to leave, harassing her for no good reason, and then revealing that reason on permanently recorded email. The minute he cleared the foyer door, his eyes were on her. He gave her a tight, toothless grimace and a quick bob of his head, but that was it. He went to his desk and two minutes later his eyes were down on his screen. Bree spent the next half hour trying to attract his attention and failing.MoreLess
Oh God. She jumped up from her desk as if it’s been electrified. Anthony thought she was being victimised, smacked around. Oh dear God. In his blundering way he was genuinely trying to help.
She sat back down; glad to her You’re a Piza Work pink toenail polish no one had witnessed her panicked state. She spent the next half hour furtively watching the door from the lift well for Anthony—no Ant, she needed to start thinking of him as Ant—a dunderhead who was trying to be gallant. If you considered gallant boxing her in a small room, ignoring her requests to leave, harassing her for no good reason, and then revealing that reason on permanently recorded email. The minute he cleared the foyer door, his eyes were on her. He gave her a tight, toothless grimace and a quick bob of his head, but that was it. He went to his desk and two minutes later his eyes were down on his screen. Bree spent the next half hour trying to attract his attention and failing.MoreLess
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