To Color Your Life

Chapter 14:Her Condition.

Emily didn't remember going back to the department. Her head was pounding, she was out of breath. She urgently wanted fresh air to calm her nerves.

If she had somehow got used to the jokes of her boss, then his care and ease next to her provoked emotions in the girl, which became more and more difficult to cope with.

The obscene dreams that had tormented her the previous night had practically become a reality! She saw her boss naked!

Correction: practically naked. But damn it! It was spectacular!

The girl slapped herself on the cheeks, "Okay, Hayes, work. You are at work." After taking a couple of slow breaths, Emily ran the key along the door and went into the department.

As expected, about a dozen eyes kept glancing in her direction as she walked to her desk.

Agh, let them think what they want! she decided. She could stand a month of sidelong glances and whispering without any problem.

She already had an unpleasant experience of gossip among colleagues. Only the last time they looked at her with pity. Now there was more surprise, interest and even a little envy in the eyes of the magazine staff.

Emily sat down at the table and breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, it was possible to work in peace. The girl opened the first article and began reading it.

"You are back! Thank God!" Catherine jumped to Hayes like a local-level tornado, sweeping away the whole working spirit.

"Something happened?" Emily came a bit late for quite objective reasons (which others do not need to know), but she was not a key player on the team to make a tragedy out of her absence.

"Ten more minutes and it will definitely happen! The guy from Gregor's office has looked for you twice!"

Gregor's office? Emily wondered. The mention of the name of the current editor-in-chief was hardly a good sign.

"Yes," Kat leaned over to the girl and added in a whisper, "He hates it when his orders are delayed. So you better hurry up. "

"Why hurry? Finish the article?"

"Article will wait! Go to him. He ordered you to come to his office," Joyce explained.

"Me?! What for?" After the morning news that she had broken the record for the views of this very Gregor, she wanted to meet with him even less.

"How should I know? In general, I do everything possible so that my paths do not intersect with him," Catherine twisted her face as if she had eaten a dozen lemons at once.

Emily didn't want to get to know this Gregor at all.

The male and female teams of the magazine worked separately and were separated by the programming department. The latter was responsible for the electronic layout of the magazine and the smooth operation of the Pharaoh application.

Emily walked through the programming department and noticed several people intently studying something on computers.

The far door led to the men's team section.

She swallowed. Of the entire group, the girl saw only two people - when they met her in the corridor at the entrance. And, another one in heels and in a dress, but she did not have time to see who that was.

Now she was to enter the holy of holies of the male world of the Pharaoh magazine. She felt like an envoy in the camp of the enemy, not knowing what she was preparing for - for an ordinary conversation or immediately for death.

The girl opened the door and went inside. To her surprise, it was quiet around. The long corridor and several doors leading to the offices were very different from the female section of the department.

Emily stepped carefully on the tiles, trying not to clatter her heels.

A lively discussion was taking place behind one of the half opened doors. The girl was not going to eavesdrop. But human curiosity was stronger.

"I bet a hundred that she is pregnant!" an unfamiliar male voice exclaimed, "You can even see her tummy!"

"Nah, there is no tummy there, and her butt is quite juicy," the second replied, "Although it is quite possible about pregnancy."

Just look at them! The truth is that men are even worse gossipers than women. Emily nodded to herself, having received confirmation of a long-known thesis.

In broad daylight they are discussing someone. Most likely from her colleagues.

For sure they are talking about one of the girls from her department.

"Did you see how she broke his lip? I heard she demanded that he give her the position of editor-in-chief or even a personal deputy, but he refused. So she punched him with all her might right in the face!"

What? Lip? Position? Stop! Who are they talking about now?!

"And today he called her to his office right after the planning meeting. This has never happened before. So I bet another hundred, this new one is pregnant!" someone concluded with gravity.

Whaaaaat?!

Emily froze with her mouth open. Are they talking about me?!

What the fuck?!

The girl pulled back her jacket, clenched her fists, and took a step forward.

Bams!

The door flew open with a bang.

"Hello, boys. Where can I find Gregor, can you tell me?" Emily's polite smile did not bode well.

The four men froze in their positions. Someone did not bring a cup of coffee to his mouth, someone simply forgot to close his mouth.

"Oh, you've got so much smoke here!" she coughed and pointedly put her hand on her stomach, "It's unhealthy to breathe that kind of air."

The men simultaneously put out their cigarettes on what was closest. One of them jumped up and flung open the window, letting in the fresh air.

"Gregor's office is the second door from the left," the one sitting closest to Emily squeezed out.

Oh, Mr. I-bet-a-hundred, the girl recognized his voice.

She looked at the man with an attentive glance, then slowly looked at everyone, as if she was trying to memorize them. The guys tensed noticeably. A couple of beads of sweat appeared on Mr. Betting-a-hundred's forehead.

"Thank you," Emily nodded, and left the room, leaving a dead silence behind her.

.

She practically did not knock on Gregor's office. And she should have.

Now she understood why Catherine chose to avoid this man.

Gregor Barkens was a tall, skinny man. Smoothly slicked back hair, narrow glasses over his eyes, a cold and tenacious gaze - the man looked like a snake, ready to swallow his victim if she makes a wrong move.

Emily flew into his lair without waiting for an answer for permission to enter. And she froze on the spot as if she had forgotten how to talk. The oppressive silence that cemetery spirits would envy made the office of the editor-in-chief an even more eerie place.

The man looked up from the papers he was studying and looked at his guest, unpleasant chills ran down Emily's spine.

"H-hello," she forced out of herself in a suddenly shrunken voice, "I was told you were looking for me."

The man arched an eyebrow and silently gestured to a seat across from his desk.

"Miss Hayes."

"Yes, it's me." What an idiot I must look like! I had to introduce myself from the very beginning!

"I never waited for anyone else," the editor commented in a detached tone, implying unequivocally that he had waited longer than he wanted.

"How can I help you?" Emily shifted in her chair, trying to sit comfortably. The chairs in the boss's office were much better, she noted to herself.

"Hmmm," the man sighed, flipping through the page of some folder, "Are you sure this is about help?"

The girl also became interested in finding out what he was looking at with such an air as if he were a judge passing a life sentence to a criminal.

Damn! He's looking at her personal information folder!

"They say you want to take my position in this company?" dark brown eyes, almost black, stared at Emily through the arch of his glasses.

"What a bullsh-," she blurted out straight away and immediately gagged her mouth with her hand. Gosh, she really demanded this position from the boss yesterday morning! But didn't really mean it!

"Sorry, this is certainly not nonsense." The man's gaze grew closer and heavier. "Oh, I mean, what you say cannot be nonsense. That is, you cannot talk nonsense," the girl began to jabber.

Oh foooool….

"I'm not claiming your position in the company," Emily finally expressed herself clearly and unambiguously. "I don't have the same experience," she added for credibility.

"This is exactly what I see," the man closed the folder with her personal file, pushed the papers aside and rubbed his eyes wearily. "In the condition you are in, the job of editor-in-chief will be too stressful. And the lack of managerial experience can negatively affect the future of the magazine."

"What's wrong with my condition?" Emily frowned. This dialogue was starting to go somewhere... not there.

Mr. Barkens looked down for a second at the girl's hands folded on her lap, and then looked at her face again, "In the first trimester, toxicosis may not be felt, but by the third it will be hard for you to work.

And we have a huge workload and constant deadlines. Your article received a wonderful response, which I admit with some annoyance. But are you sure you can run the magazine with a small child in your arms?"

The manner in which the man asked the question seriously, even Emily had doubts for a couple of seconds. Maybe I better buy a pregnancy test? Who knows, maybe there are two strips? Well, holy spirit's miracle and all...

The girl sighed. With such a fantasy, these men need to write romance novels for the whole team. Bestsellers are guaranteed!

"Mr. Barkens, I'm not pregnant," Emily said in the most honest way.

"And-"

"And no, Mr. Evans is not going to assign the magazine for me," she replied, ahead of the question.

"Are you sure?"

She really wanted to roll her eyes, but if you think about it, Emily herself caused such rumors. But who spread them...

The image of a disgruntled Cerberus in a skirt from the boss's reception surfaced in the girl's head. Someone (probably named Stephanie) had a tongue that was too long.

"I'm sure. Only if Mr. Evans does not go crazy and decides to give Pharaoh to the first person he meets, and I turn up at his hand."

"Well, okay then," Gregor said with a noticeable relief in his voice. "You are free."

And it's all? I am free?

Emily looked down at the human skull ashtray on the editor's desk. She also noticed several long candles standing on the closet behind the man. Is he conducting some shaman rituals here during lunch breaks?

There were even fewer reasons to stay in Gregor Barkens' office.

"Have a nice day, sir," the girl bowed and backed away toward the door. She didn't want to turn her back on the man.

"Have a nice day too, Miss Hayes. Do not forget to submit your articles on time. I'll be waiting," the editor replied in an even voice.

His tone made Emily want to sit down at the computer and get the job done. And no Justin Evans will distract her anymore! Overall, it is harmful to be nervous in her condition!

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