He Chose His Mistress, So I Chose Justice

3: 3

3.

I let out a cold laugh. "Right. Eight hundred grand. And if Evelyn keeps sitting on that contract, eight hundred grand won't be all I lose."

"Then go take it up with the boss. What's yelling at me going to do? I asked her for you, I chased her for you. If she won't do it, what am I supposed to do, hold her head down and flip through the mail rack for you? Cheryl, can you be reasonable for once?"

I drew a slow breath. "I'm not being reasonable?"

"Forget everything else, Nathan. We've been together this long. Have you ever once paid this much attention to anything I post?"

Then I walked into the bedroom, shut the door, and stood leaning against it for a long time.

The next morning I sat at my desk and sent Evelyn a message on the company chat app.

"Hi, Evelyn. Regarding the original overseas client contract signed for on October 11, where is it currently being kept? When can it be handed over to Sales? Please reply."

I typed it out one word at a time, then sent it.

Two words popped up on the screen: Read. But ten minutes went by with no reply.

I went back to my reports.

Forty minutes passed. Still just Read. Not even a Got it.

I opened a fresh email, pasted in the same text, put Evelyn's work address in the recipient field, and cc'd myself.

Sent it again.

Read-and-ignored on the chat app, plus sent-with-no-reply by email. Two records stacked on top of each other, enough to prove Evelyn was deliberately refusing to communicate with me.

If she kept ignoring the email, that email would become the most direct evidence there was.

As luck would have it, at two in the afternoon I went to the restroom.

The stall doors were shut. I walked into the one at the far end, and I'd just latched it when Evelyn's voice came from next door.

"I'm telling you, I've got her contract sitting on my desk. Nathan already told me not to worry, so what's she going to do? Go to the boss? The boss is my uncle. What can she do?"

"I just want to make her miserable. She's the one who won't let go of Nathan, and she's always got that holier-than-thou look on her face. Please."

"Just wait. From now on, the second she has to ship anything through us, I'll make her beg me for it."

By the time I pushed the door open, Evelyn was already gone.

Passing the long rack by the front desk, I noticed a new envelope on the mail shelf.

I recognized the client logo printed on the front.

But I didn't touch it. I got my water and went back.

Evelyn stewed on it all afternoon and finally couldn't hold it in by four o'clock.

She came over to my desk. "Hey, why aren't you coming for your own mail anymore? Waiting for us to bring it to you?"

I didn't look up, eyes on my screen.

"No rush."

She let out a laugh. "Oh, so now there's no rush? Weren't you in such a hurry before? Eight times a day, practically moving into the front desk."

I'm no pushover either, so I shot straight back. "What exactly is the front desk here for?"

"I'm the sales director, not your errand girl. Delivering mail is part of the front desk's job. Do I really have to remind you of that?"

Her face flushed. "So you're a director, big deal? You want to lecture me about procedure? If you've got the guts, go take it up with my uncle!"

I nodded with great seriousness. "After your uncle signs for the mail, is he the one who's going to bring it to my desk?"

That left Evelyn too furious to get a word out.

I closed my laptop.

Pushed back my chair, stood, and walked all the way to the front desk.

She trailed after me, heels clacking sharp against the floor.

"Cheryl, what are you up to now?"

I stopped in front of the mail rack. Directly above it was the audio-and-video camera I'd had Dirk turn on, its red light blinking on and off.