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This one's for the
On The Job Challenge 2023
, and I hope you enjoy it.
As always, your comments and votes are very much appreciated.
"Riley, what are doing under your desk?"
Slowly peeling open my eyelids, I found myself staring up into my boss's gorgeous silver-blue eyes. And I could tell he looked pretty concerned about finding me under my desk, curled up on the floor.
Probably my stupid feet were sticking out, which he would have thought kind of odd, if he came into my office looking for me.
As I struggled to get up and crawl out, without embarrassing myself even more by hitting my head on my desk, I made a mental note that if I'm going to sleep under here, I'd better make darn sure that I lock the door, so that no one can walk in and find me drooling and snoring.
From the way his eyes were flaring, I realized, looking down at myself, that my navy-blue wool dress was hiked up to my waist, giving him a show of not only my tiny white bikini panties, but my bare tummy, almost up to my breasts. Probably from the way I was tossing and turning all night, trying to get comfortable on the rock-hard floor, my darn dress made its way almost up to my neck.
Of course, I'd love to be able to wear a nightie, like I normally did to sleep, but I couldn't risk getting caught in my nightgown. Though it was bad enough that I'd just been caught sleeping in my office.
Tugging everything back into place, I ran a hand through my long, reddish-blonde curls hoping my hair didn't look too crazy, as he asked, "What were you doing under there? Did you fall?"
"Um..." I stared up into the worried look in his eyes wondering what I should say. The truth would probably get me fired, but so would almost any other excuse I could offer, like being so drunk or high that I wound up collapsing on the floor. Considering he knew I didn't drink much and wasn't the type to dabble, neither of those would work, because obviously he'd never believe me.
I shrugged and quietly told him the truth, "I was um... sleeping?"
"You were sleeping on the floor, under your desk? Why would you do that? Were you working late last night?"
Wincing, I shook my head. "No, not too late."
"Then I don't understand."
Heaving a sigh, I thought I'd better fess up and tell him what happened. "Till a few months ago I had a nice little basement apartment, only about an hour from the office. Then the owner's son lost his job, and she asked me to move out, so that he and his wife could move in."
He nodded for me to go on. I took a deep breath and told him the rest. "A friend of mine offered to let me sleep on her couch, until I found somewhere else to stay. But then her boyfriend moved in and started hitting on me whenever she wasn't around. So, I had no choice, I had to leave."
Now he really looked concerned. "Are you saying that you haven't got anywhere to live?"
"Not at the moment, no." Though I quickly added, "But I've been looking really hard. It's just that everything's so expensive, unless I want to move out of state. Then I'd probably have to find another job."
"Well, we wouldn't want that." He eyed me for a moment, like he was mulling something over, till he asked, "How long have you been sleeping in here?"
"A little over a month." I flinched, hoping he wouldn't fire me for crashing at work.
He glanced around my office, still looking confused. "But, where have you been showering?"
"After everyone's gone, I go down to the company gym and use the shower. Sometimes I freshen up and brush my teeth in the ladies' washroom just down the hall."
"And where are you keeping your things?"
I pointed at one of the filing cabinets. "That big long one has always been empty, so I've got all my stuff in there. And I stashed my suitcases at the back of the supply closet."
He still looked kind of stunned, like he could hardly believe what I was saying. I had a feeling he was trying to decide if he should hand me my walking papers, considering I'd stepped over the line, since obviously normal people didn't live in their office.
I mean, who in their right mind would want a homeless assistant? And basically, that's what I am, now that I'd lost my apartment, I'm homeless.
"You know I've got a shower in my office, that you're welcome to use. I've also got that mini-fridge that I only use for drinks, if you want to put any perishables in there."
I could hardly believe what he was saying. Instead of showing me the door, he was trying to do whatever he could to make me comfortable.
"Thank you for offering, but I don't think I could use your shower."
He smirked. "Well, it's not like I'd be joining you in there. You could go in and clean up whenever I'm gone."
I got the biggest lump in my throat, as I realized how understanding he was being about the whole thing. "That's so nice of you," I said, willing my voice quivering as I tried not to cry.
"There's some clean towels in there, if you want to go in now." He took a look at his watch. "I just came in to tell you that I've got an early breakfast meeting upstairs with the boss, and I probably won't be back till after ten. So, you can take your time."
Just the thought of enjoying a long, hot shower, had me smiling. As I imagined how incredible it would feel to give myself a proper wash, instead of having to race like a maniac to get out, like I had to do at the gym.
"Okay. I think I will, then."
Till I found myself with nowhere to stay, I never realized what a luxury it was to be able to get under a showerhead and get myself squeaky clean at my leisure, instead of having to make do with spot-washing in the ladies' room, when I couldn't get into one of the showers downstairs.
He stroked my arm. "And I'll bring you back some breakfast, okay?"
"Oh, you don't have to do that. I've been going down to the cafeteria for whatever I need, and I usually make my morning tea in the office kitchen."
I laughed at the way he wrinkled his nose. "I think I can find you something a little nicer than that stuff they serve downstairs."