Chapter 8
“Miss Lowe, Mr. Ford is looking for you. Could you come with me for a moment?”
Aaron’s secretary, Wendy, appeared out of nowhere, smiling politely as she broke up our little celebration.
“Oh, and Miss Lowe, it looks like you’ll need to work a little overtime today. Sorry about that.”
My friends let out a collective groan, their faces dropping in exaggerated grief as they lamented my tragic fate.
As for me? I had already resigned myself to the miserable life of a corporate worker. With a sigh of resignation, I dragged myself toward Aaron’s office.
“Come in,” his voice called out, slightly hoarse. He sounded like he’d had a long day too.
Well, of course. If we lowly employees were swamped with year–end work, then the boss probably had it ten times
worse.
“Can you accompany me somewhere later?”
I sighed internally, already feeling the grievance bubbling up inside me.
“Why are you even asking? Like I have a choice here! What happens if I say no? Do I actually get to go home and clock out?” I thought.
Aaron must have noticed the silent protest in my eyes because he let out a faint, helpless laugh. He removed his glasses, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Sorry for dragging you into overtime on your first day back. How about ten times your normal overtime pay as a little compensation?”
www
Suddenly, the weary, beaten- down worker inside me snapped to attention like a soldier at roll call. The lifeless look in my eyes vanished in an instant.
“Mr. Ford, no need to be so polite,” I said with a bright, eager smile. “It’s my duty to work overtime.”
Two hours later, dressed in a newly borrowed evening gown, I stood beside Aaron as we entered a high–profile gala.
Under my breath, I muttered, “So this is what you meant by overtime, Mr. Ford?”
