The Promise of Change - By Rebecca Heflin Page 0,14

little secret. The way he looks at you, your gestures of kindness to him, just now the two of you behind closed doors, for over an hour.” A well-plucked eyebrow lifted.

“First, of all, I am not having an affair with my assistant. Your conclusions on that point are malicious and unfounded.” She would probably regret this, but she’d had enough.

“The gestures of kindness are those that I display to any colleague, friend, or family member. But how could I expect you to recognize something so foreign to your own skewed view of the world.” Sarah worked up a good head of steam.

“Furthermore, we were behind closed doors for over an hour because we were on a conference call with our outside counsel in D.C. and Dr. Crews about a thorny billing matter.”

“And as for the looks he allegedly gives me, I have no earthly idea what you’re talking about. Carlos is a respected colleague, an excellent assistant, a genuinely kind and warm human being, and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t drag his name through the mud like you did Professor Franklin’s.”

Sarah’s heart pounded in her chest. She was probably about to get fired for speaking to her boss like that, but she couldn’t help herself. She was not going to stand by this time and let Patricia make unfounded accusations against her or anyone else in the office.

“Well. My, my, my. Sarah has a little temper. Who knew?” Patricia rose from her chair, and walking around her desk, sat on the front of it, arms crossed. Sarah recognized the action for what was—an attempt to intimidate her, encroach on her space. She held her ground.

“You know I could fire you for your little tirade.” Patricia let that sink in. “But I’m not. You seem to be the only one around here with a backbone, and while I won’t be bullied by my employees, I do appreciate someone who stands up for herself.”

Bullied? There’s the pot calling the kettle black.

“Let me just put it this way, if you’re having an affair with your assistant, then I’m telling you to break it off immediately. If you’re not, then no harm done.” She gave a little shrug, as if she’d accused Sarah of eating the last cupcake instead of having an illicit office affair.

“Let me put it this way.” Sarah rose from her chair as she spoke. “I am not having an affair with Carlos, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make such false accusations in the future. And you’re wrong. There is harm. You’ve harmed not only my name and reputation, but Carlos’ as well.”

“I’m not going to tell Carlos about this. It would be humiliating to him,” Sarah continued. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to him or to anyone else in the office. Now, if there’s nothing else, I’d like to get back to work.” Not waiting for a reply, Sarah turned on her heel and left.

Sarah closed her door and slumped into her chair, her hand pressed to her stomach. She couldn’t believe she just chewed out her boss. Never mind that she hated the woman. She’d never even considered speaking to a supervisor in that manner.

Her father taught her and Becca to respect persons in positions of authority. Even when you disagreed. You politely spoke your mind, judiciously argued your point, and if they still disagreed, at least you’d spoken up.

Sarah also knew that letting people push your buttons only gave them power over you, especially people like Patricia, who were always looking for a chink in your armor.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, and slowly exhaled, vowing she would remain in control of her temper the next time she had an encounter with the devil made flesh.

Things in the office stabilized. Sarah was able to get back into a routine, albeit a new one, which included a heavy dose of avoidance—avoiding the Bitchkrieg, avoiding private meetings with Carlos where possible, and more importantly avoiding thoughts of her own unhappiness.

Nevertheless, even avoidance was good when it was part of an overall routine. Routine brought comfort, stability, even if it also brought with it monotony.

Amidst the almost constant upheaval caused by the family moves required by her father’s naval career, Sarah’s mother worked hard to establish routines, so that no matter where they lived, there would be little constants.

Mornings were for family breakfast. Afternoons were for homework, chores, and athletic training. Evenings were for family dinners, movie time, or curling up with