Haze - By Andrea Wolfe Page 0,113

he said. "Do come in."

He introduced me to the other members of the HR department, a man younger than him named Michael and a woman around his age named Deb.

"We heard from some of the interns that you had somewhat of an unfortunate encounter with Mr. Beckermann earlier this week.

"Yes," I said, my confirmation just the tip of the iceberg.

From that point, the conversation went in a number of unexpected directions—there were apparently sexual harassment charges from other girls in the office, along with charges from female artists on top of that. Nothing too serious, but things that had been investigated and the results deemed "inconclusive."

"We discovered that Mr. Beckermann has faced a number of restraining orders from women related to our industry. He seems to get fixated and then a little carried away." He never clarified that bit, but I wasn't sure I needed to know the full definition. "Nothing too serious, however. Nothing to worry about."

Ryan dominated the conversation the whole time, the other two just taking notes and occasionally providing a small rehash of HR jargon.

Much of this was surprising to me, especially given the background info that Sam had provided me about himself. None of this fit.

On top of all of that, Sam had used his influence to appoint an HR person who would turn his back on Sam's misconduct, one that had been fired a few weeks ago for unrelated insubordination. The incident with me had provoked so many complaints that they had to do a full-scale investigation, one that involved Sam being suspended until a judgment was made.

"We had numerous reports of him drinking on the job and using, shall we say, demeaning verbiage with you."

I didn't hold anything back, even admitting to the stuff with Jack after they inquired. I wanted to be totally honest, even if it negatively affected the outcome of this meeting. Jack was right—this was actually helping.

At the end, the three seemed to compare notes briefly before Ryan took the lead again. "Ms. Jacobs, based on what you've told us, we'd like to offer you an apology and inform you that, if you wish, your position at MCI will resume effective this coming Monday. It is our opinion that you didn't violate any portion of MCI's non-compete clause, and therefore, your termination was unjustified. And although our decision regarding Sam is incomplete, at the very least he'll be transferred to another office, no longer your superior. Well, if we keep him at MCI at all."

Whoa. I certainly wasn't expecting this at all.

"Uh, I—" I trailed off, not sure what to say. "Well, t-t-thank you," I said, my voice full of confused gratitude. Now that options were hitting me left and right, it was getting even tougher to make decisions. "This means a lot to me."

Ryan slid a business card toward me, his card with his name across the top in fancy typeface. "Miss Jacobs, if you have any questions or concerns here at MCI, don't hesitate to contact me directly at anytime. We're here to create a positive environment for both our workforce and clients. We greatly appreciate you coming in."

"It was no problem." I nodded to punctuate the sentence.

"We want to know that Sam Beckermann is not representative of the policies were believe in here at MCI, we are dedicated to—"

My mind started to wander as he gently assaulted me with his corporate schlock. God, this development really made things more interesting.

"... so we're glad to have you back."

"Yes, thank you." I meant it, even though I again felt like I was wandering aimlessly through life—and it had become a barren desert.

After a series of brief, professional goodbyes, I got out of the building and headed to my preferred coffee joint, sitting down with a friendly Americano, a treat for myself. I didn't usually use that much cream, but today the espresso seemed extra strong and so I went a little crazy.

Although I wanted to talk to Jack, I didn't really feel like struggling with my phone if it decided to be stubborn. I sat with the coffee, my mind cooling down in tandem with the hot drink. I thought about the fact that I suddenly had a job again after several days of misery and lost direction.

I had entered a clearing, an empty space where everything seemed all right. Questions still seeped into the fibers of my mind, but now they weren't so obtrusive. Did I want to take back my job, or did I want to