Mr. Lancing stopped abruptly at the copy room entrance.
"Stop it, you perv," he heard a young woman say. He saw now it was Abby, a bright intern who had started with the firm a few months ago. A young man, with his back to him, stood a couple feet back from her at the collating machine. Mr. Lansing was about to intercede when Abby jut out her rump at the young man. He, in turn, placed a stack of papers in the machine then swung out his arm and gave her a quick swat on the butt.
"I said stop," she whined, then giggled. Out thrust her bottom again.
Encased in a tastefully fitted dress knitted dress, appropriate for the accounting firm's dress code, Mr. Lancing, the firm's Human Resources Director, understood the young man's engagement. Nonetheless, he was disappointed. The work ethic of today's youth was appalling. This wasn't play time. He cleared his throat. Abby looked up and her eyes locked with his as they widened in shock. The young man turned and Mr. Lancing noted in his periphery the meticulously groomed thin sideburns and soul patch. Hayden, the spoiled snot hired from their crosstown competitor, Whitney, Larson, and Fox. Another recent hire, two years out of college and had yet to pass his CPA exam. He held Abby's gaze a few moments more, then kept walking to his meeting.
A half hour later, Abby returned to her desk and set down the stack of twelve, bound reports. As she reached for a Post-it to make a note for her supervisor, she noticed another yellow sticky on her phone. "Abby, please stop by my office at 5:30." It was signed by Mr. Lansing.
Her first reaction was a cold chill. She screwed up and was going to be fired. That stupid Hayden. She fell into her chair and stared at the note. But then it occurred to her that it also could be about the firm's annual report she was helping Mr. Lansing with that was due the next week. That must be it. They had talked almost daily about that and she hadn't seen him today. Well, except for at the copy room. Stupid Hayden.
Feeling relieved, she cheerfully scribbled her note and stuck it on the stack of reports. Then the time of her visit with Mr. Lansing sunk in. 5:30. She was supposed to go with Hayden and a bunch of associates to a happy hour at five. Bummed, she phoned Hayden and informed him she would meet him there later, and carted off her copied reports to their next destination.
At 5:25, Abby took the elevator up three floors to the executive suite. Not surprising, it was deserted. Staff were discouraged from working past five. "Family First" was one of the corporate mottos. A spike of panic paralyzed her. Was their meeting at 4:30? Did she misread it? Just then a door down the hall opened. Mr. Lansing's head popped out.
"Hello, Abby. Come in, please."
She followed him into his office and sat where he motioned in one of the chairs by his desk. He strode slowly around to his side of the desk and sat. There were no papers on the top, which at first she took as a good sign. No form to sign to go in her file documenting her foolish moment of "inappropriate behavior in the workplace." A forever smudge on her professional record. As the HR Director, he would have every kind of personnel form readily at hand, so this was good. Then her heart sank. No this is bad. Very bad. There's nothing to talk about. Finished. Pack your things and leave.
"Abby?"
She tensed and sat up straighter.
"You're one of the brightest persons I've worked with in a long time. What year are you?"
"A junior, sir."
He folded his hands and leaned forward. "So next year you graduate, then take your exam. I guarantee you'll pass first time through."
Abby breathed again and almost felt a tear of relief. "Really? Thank you, Mr. Lansing. I love accounting. I'm such a geek. I love it." She looked at him. He was staring at her. "Oh, I didn't mean that you're a..."
"But Hayden?"
