When I opened the door this morning, a gift box sat on the step. It wasn’t even my birthday, but there it was, a red squared container tied up with a bright gold ribbon. I gazed up and down the road but saw no one.
Inside, I placed it on the table, searched for a card, and found nothing. Yes, I was curious, but having just finished reading my latest crime novel, I hesitated to open it.
Detective Dan Smith had been hot on the trail of a murdered heiress. The murderer sent her body parts in boxes to members of her family. Pretty gruesome, for sure, although one would never guess the bespectacled, mousy me would enjoy reading crime novels, but I did. Hey, we all have our vices, right?
I thought about my mean boss. He constantly put me forward for things I didn’t want to do. I told him many times it was out of my comfort zone. Did he listen? Ever? No. I’d like to cut off his head and stick it the bloody box!
I sat in the armchair and gazed at it sitting there innocently on the table.
This week I felt the most unappreciated person in the office, yet I did most of the work.
I’d secured a lucrative client, which meant taking their Marketing Director out for dinner while I told him how wonderful our company was. We were supposed to go together but meany Mark, my boss, dropped out at the last minute. He said he had urgent personal business to take care of and he was sure I could handle it alone. Huh!
I reminded myself it was the weekend, and I needed to forget about work and meany Mark. I emptied a small can of baked beans into a pan, flipped on the toaster, and grated some cheese.
As they gently bubbled, my thoughts returned to Mark. He said we made a good team. Yet he was oblivious to the fact that I was seeking other employment. Something with less tension would be better.
The toast popped up, and I quickly buttered it before adding beans and sprinkling grated Parmesan on top. As I put it under the grill, I realised that actually, I would be sad to leave.
To be fair, Mark was a nice man. I would miss him, and the work, but after the deal I’d just done, was the stress even worth it? I’d rather sit at home with a detective novel than play office super-girl.
I ate my meal at the table and stared once more at the box. It was no good. I was going to have to open it, and if it was Mark’s head was on a platter, I would submit my resignation tomorrow. Well, Monday. I sniggered – if he was dead, who would I hand it to?
Taking the empty plate to the sink, I returned to the box and undid the gold bow. As I removed the lid, three black and gold balloons rose to the ceiling. Their strings dangled in the container as if pointing to its contents. I lifted out a parcel that was wrapped in red tissue and it revealed a heart-shaped box of chocolates. Lying on the top was a white card with the silhouette of a man. I turned it over.
’Note underneath.’
I raised the chocolate box and sure enough, a small envelope was taped to the bottom, just like in good detective novels.
Removing it, I put the chocolates on the table and sat in the armchair to read Mark’s note.
‘Please don’t consider leaving. I saw you looking at the job section. I need you and know I seldom say it. Without you, we wouldn’t thrive. My delinquent brother chose the night we were meeting the client to get arrested. Mum rang me in such a flap. So, I’m sorry I dropped you in it. But you made an impression on your own. You shouldn’t underestimate your capabilities. You are an office super-girl. Let’s talk about it. Dinner tonight? Farley’s at 8?’
My tense shoulders slackened, and I broke into a smile. Perhaps Meany Mark wasn’t so insensitive after all.
©Karen J Mossman
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