“How much do I know? About Ms. Ward?” I ask Asim, putting a hand to my chest. 

Sam still isn’t back yet, and I wonder how much longer the two of us will have to talk so candidly. 

Asim smirks, raising a brow. “About where she gets the name “Soul Crusher”. You said you overheard her and Mr. Sharpe talking. Were you eavesdropping or something?”

“Not exactly,” I mutter, remembering how she approached me and Vincent… how she glared daggers at me and I felt the threat in her gaze. I think about the conversation after I left, and even now it still stings. 

I’m trying to decide how much I should say, because I do want answers, or at least some information… But I’m also not quite sure how much I should repeat. I don’t want to admit that I was alone with Vincent or that she found us and seemed to jump to conclusions. That’s too much to admit, even if Asim is friendly. 

I definitely can’t tell him about how badly I’m crushing on the CEO.

Awkwardly, I sigh and admit, “It seemed like Mr. Sharpe left an important dinner early and had been avoiding her calls. Apparently his caller ID for her is that… term.” Of not-so endearment, I finish in my mind. 

Asim chuckles a little to himself. “Yeah, let’s just say Mr. Sharpe and Ms. Ward don’t get along anymore…”

“Anymore?” I ask, and my heart throbs. I have a horrible feeling in my stomach, like all my insides have dropped. I feel so heavy, and I can tell by the sympathetic furrow of Asim’s brows that he’s about to hit me with exactly what I don’t want to hear. 

“You asked about “romantic” involvement, right?” 

I nod and already it’s painful. All this time I’ve been hoping there’s nothing to know. That I’ve just been stuck inside my head thinking of the worst possible outcomes… But it doesn’t look like I’m going to be so lucky. 

I almost want to shut down the conversation right then and there, but maybe that will seem even more suspicious. I don’t have the nerve anyway. And, more than anything, I really want to know. I need to know. For my own sanity.     

He keeps his voice low as he asks, “Why?”

Again I’m torn, not sure what I should say. After sifting over the conversation that’s basically branded on the inside of my skull at this point, I answer, “She mentioned something about HR. It just sounded like maybe there had been an incident in the past and she was hoping it wasn’t repeating itself. I know, it’s none of my business, but…”

“But you’re curious, right?”

I nod. “Yeah. Mr. Sharpe seems really nice. I just… I don’t want to overstep, you know?”

“Sure. Sure.” He seems genuine, but thoughtful. He sighs and I can tell this is it. The moment he’s going to become my version of “Soul Crusher”.

Asim deflates a little as he murmurs, “Listen, there have been a lot of rumors floating around about those two over the years—a lot of rumors—but no-one really knows the details. Most people are convinced they had a thing that ended badly.”

“Ended badly? For who?” Am I being too nosy? At this moment I’m not sure I care. I’m just desperately searching for the truth as I wonder about my own future—and not just my potential future with Vincent, but at this company, too. 

I want to keep working here, I really like the job, and I need it… 

But this little, innocent spark of “infatuation”—that’s completely taken over my life—is starting to grow teeth. 

Asim clears his throat and drops his gaze, like he can’t look at me when he says, “There was a time when Mr. Sharpe and Ms. Ward were on good terms. That’s when the rumors started about them being more than just an effective team. But… Mr. Sharpe started getting… chummy with another employee. That employee ended up leaving all of a sudden, and it was around then that Mr. Sharpe and Ms. Ward had a falling out. It was easy for people to form conclusions. Who knows if they’re right or wrong? I don’t know, that’s for sure. I wouldn’t be surprised if people were just bored and looking for gossip… But, on the flipside, something happened.”

Is that all it was? Gossip? I know first hand what gossip can do to someone—how a rumor can spread like wildfire and get bigger and bigger until it’s so big you don’t even know where it started or what the truth is anymore…

Then again, Asim’s right. Rumors always stem from somewhere…

“So, what’s the story about “Soul Crusher” then? Where did she get the name if she’s the one who was—supposedly—jilted?” 

Asim’s eyes flick up at me, and he says sternly, “Cuz, whatever the case is, whatever happened, she changed after that.”

“Changed… how?”

For the first time Asim looks remorseful. “She used to be fairly nice. Friendly even. But now, every chance she gets to chastise Mr. Sharpe, she takes. I mean I have nothing against the guy, I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt, but boy does she dig at him. He’ll snap back every now and then, but he puts up with some shit from her.”

My stomach quivers as I remember the look on Vincent’s face when he was talking to her. “Is it… justified, do you think?” I ask. I really can’t get that stare out of my head. 

Asim shrugs. “Who knows. But you know what isn’t justified? How she takes it out on everyone else, too.”

“I see…” I grimace. “Yeah, I guess I kinda got that impression.” That she hates me already, I think. 

“You get on her bad side and she’ll make your life hell. Doesn’t matter what your position is in the company. Everyone started referring to her as “the soul crusher” and then it just kinda became a nickname. People have definitely quit because of her. That woman knows how to hold a grudge if you piss her off.”

I wonder if my face is pale, because I can physically feel my soul leaving my body. “I… I think I already pissed her off. I got the vibe she doesn’t like me,” I mutter, unsure if I’m actually making any sound with my lips because every part of my body feels numb. 

Asim chuckles, straightening as he shoves his hands into his jacket pockets. “Oh shit. What did you do?”

I gulp and it’s audible. “I… called her “ma’am”.” I can’t tell him what else she said about me. I don’t want to plant any seeds or start more rumors. Still, she was definitely offended by me calling her “ma’am”.  

Asim keeps a straight face for about 2 seconds before he busts out laughing. 

“Stop! It’s not funny! I don’t want her to crush my soul!” I exclaim, and it sounds whiny even to me.   

Meanwhile, Asim’s doubled over with laughter, though it’s dying down as he shakes his head. “Yeah… You might be screwed.” Still chuckling he nudges me with his elbow, hands still in his pockets. “If you want my advice, just try to stay away from her. You got unlucky, that’s for sure, but maybe she’ll have mercy on you since you’re new. Just try to walk the other way if you see her down the hall. Even the clack of her stilettos should be a warning.”

The weight of the world is on my shoulders. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Mm-hm.” It sounds like he’s wanting to make another witty comment, but instead he says earnestly, “Look, I’m not trying to scare you. Just remember, if you piss her off again, she’ll be out for blood.” He blinks and his mouth quirks into a lopsided smirk. “Pardon the pun.”

A faint smile tugs at my mouth, though the corners feel tight. “That’s a good one. Blood puns are always super original,” I say. I’m honestly grateful for the injection of humor because I was starting to wither. 

“Yeah? Good to know.” Asim grins. He grunts softly and lets out a breath before he says, “Look, it’s all just office politics. It doesn’t really have anything to do with us. You just do your job, stay in your sphere, it’ll all be good. I’ve got your back.” 

His words make me feel warm. “Thank you,” I say, feeling a little better. 

I still have more questions—want to ask him for more details about Ms. Ward and Vincent—but the office door opens to Sam calling out, “I’m baaack! Oh! Asim! You’re still here!” 

“Yeah, Micah made cookies,” Asim says, and he sounds natural. I probably would have panicked over the lie and made it obvious I was hiding something. I’m glad Asim is so much cooler than I am, though, admittedly, I’m a little jealous, too.

If I was that cool, maybe I wouldn’t feel so hurt and broken at the prospect that Vincent might be the kind of guy to sleep around. Maybe I’d be fine having a fling or a one-night stand and suavely try to turn it into something more. 

He’s 35, handsome, single. Even if the rumors aren’t true, I’m sure he’s slept with lots of people… Life isn’t a fairytale. People have sex, sometimes it means something, sometimes it doesn’t. It’s not like I’m a virgin… 

So why am I still so hung up on the fact he might have slept around with employees in the past?! Clearly I still like him. I should just let it go…

I fucking know I’m not going to be able to let this go. 

I wish I could be special to him…

Burying all the toxic, messy feelings, I return to my brutal reality and interject, “Actually, my mom made them.” I hold out the container to Sam. I mutter a little as I say, “There were a few more just a moment ago.” I glance at Asim, teasing. I’m hoping I can force myself out of this sour mood. 

Sam rolls her eyes as she plucks one out of the container. “I’m not surprised. The man is a vacuum cleaner.” 

Asim chuckles and steps closer to Sam. “Guilty,” he says, and swipes another cookie before slamming the whole thing into his mouth. 

She batts him away, mock disgusted. “As if you haven’t had enough!”

Swallowing loudly, Asim claps her on the shoulder, saying, “Worth it. Trust me, these are the best damn cookies you’ll ever have.” 

Sam takes a modest bite, staring at Asim like she’s demonstrating how to reasonably consume it. She moans a little, staring with wide eyes at the bitten cookie. She puts a hand over her mouth as she says, still chewing, “Oh my god, Micah, Asim isn’t kidding! These are delicious!”

I smile at Sam. Her eyes sparkle just like before. “I’m glad you like them. I’ll have to tell my mom about the rave reviews.”

“You should, moms like that kind of appreciation,” Asim says. He puts on his hat before he returns to the couch and picks his bag up off the floor, shrugging it over his shoulder. “Sam. Micah. Catch you later,” he says, giving a two-fingered salute. 

I wave awkwardly until the door closes again. 

Honestly, I’m sad to see him go. He was nice to talk to, and a part of me wonders if we could maybe—maybe—be friends. 

It’s been a long time since I’ve had a friend. 

Sam puts the container down on the table and brushes crumbs off her uniform. “Okay! Put your stuff away. Then let’s get started. You ready?” she asks, beaming at me. 

It feels like a loaded question. With all my insecurity over Vincent and my new found fear of Melissa Ward, aka “Soul Crusher”, I truly wonder if I’ll be able to survive this shift. I have no idea what I’ll even say or do when I see Vincent again, and that encounter pretty much feels inevitable.

After dealing with the sun, crying out my blood, imploding over my crush, having my mom discover Mr. Anonymous Co-worker is actually the CEO, and developing what I'm pretty sure could be classified as an arch-nemesis, all within a few hours... Am I ready??

Trying to shove all my thoughts of Vincent and everything else out of my head, I take a deep breath before I nod. “Yeah, of course. Let’s get to work.”