Lunch Date

It’s been a few hours since the morning incident. Since then, I haven’t seen or spoken to Mr. Jason, and I am more than grateful for that. I am getting ready to go out and have lunch with Evan. He called earlier and said he would be around the area, so he wanted to meet up for lunch.

I am standing up from my chair when I knock a file off my desk mistakenly. I bend under to pick it up, and while lifting my head, someone speaks to me.

“Where are you going?” Vivienne asks. She must have seen my handbag on the table and guessed I was going out for lunch. I always keep my purse under my desk during working hours. I also hardly go out for lunch. I usually eat lunch here at the office. We have a cafeteria, and the food is not bad.

“I have a lunch date,” I say, lifting my head from under the table. The glare Mr. Jason sends my way as he stands in front of his office makes me want to pee my pants. What did I say wrong now?

“Who is the unlucky man,” Vivienne asks,