I tried engaging the security guards in a little banter, but it quickly became apparently that all of the steroids must have burned their fun glands into oblivion. They were about as friendly as a pair of rocks, and even less interesting; I quickly abandoned all hope of alleviating my boredom through conversation.
At my request, Sebastian had brought me a laptop, so I turned to surfing job hunting websites online. I knew it was masochistic to taunt myself like that, but I couldn't help it. After a decade of thinking about nothing but my career, I couldn't just switch off that part of my brain. To be honest, I wasn't sure there were many other parts anymore. It turned out there were several positions going at top tier firms, including one at Little Bell's biggest rival. Any one of them would have been perfect for me, and I knew I stood a good chance if I decided to apply.
I stared at the screen for a while, before closing the laptop and setting it purposefully aside. Well, there you go. Who knows, maybe they'll still be available in a few weeks and all this will have blown over.
But as I lay in bed that night, I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd found. Getting back to work was exactly what I needed. With all day to myself, I couldn't help but dwell on my situation. Being unemployed and trapped in a house, with mysterious forces plotting God knows what all around me, was hardly a recipe for inner peace.
"You know, I'm going a little crazy here," I said the next day, when we were sitting in the lounge room after dinner.
He shot me a sympathetic look. "I know it's rough. Hopefully we'll have something soon. In the meantime, try to relax and enjoy the time off."
"Have you seen me try to relax?" I replied. "It's a train wreck. Yesterday I actually rearranged every book in the study by author name, just to feel like I'd actually achieved something for the day."
He laughed.
"Incidentally, you have an awful lot of cook books from the fifties in there. Anyway, relaxation isn't my M.O," I continued. "I need to be out there, getting my life back on track. The longer I wait to find another job, the harder it's going to be. I get that the situation is dangerous, but I want something to come back to when it's all over."
He stared at me for several seconds, a strange smile playing on his lips.
"What?" I asked, realising that something wasn't right. He shouldn't have been smiling.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, before standing up and walking over to his desk. "I was going to wait until after all of this was sorted out, but I guess there's no harm in showing you now."
"Showing me what?" I asked, feeling a rush of excitement.
He returned holding a small stack of paper.
"This," he said. "I know you have a thing about people helping you, but hopefully you can make an exception in this case."
With some trepidation I began to read, but before I'd made it more than half a page I found myself grinning like an idiot. "Oh my God," I said. "Where did you get these?"
"A friend of a friend," he replied nonchalantly.
"Well your friend struck gold," I said, flipping through several more pages. "My God, the partners are going to flip when they see this."
In my hands, I held a printout of a chain of emails that stretched back over several years. Sebastian and I were no strangers to a bit of written flirtation, but these took the idea of sexting to a whole new level. We're talking bad eighties porno script, and judging by the phrasing, it was just a prelude to what the couple were actually doing in the bedroom.
The email addresses weren't instantly familiar — they looked like personal accounts — but the signatures were.
Alan Beatie and Jennifer Smart.
"I thought you'd be pleased," Sebastian replied.
That was the understatement of the century. A long term relationship between an associate and her superior was already enough to land them in serious trouble, but this went a step further. Interspersed between the racier messages were numerous requests for favours and plenty of signs of preferential treatment. Judging by the dates, their arrangement had started before Jennifer was even promoted. It didn't take a genius to see how the other partners would view that. It felt like Christmas come early.
And then I spotted the coup de grace. "Holy shit." I held up one specific line for him to read. "Did you see this?"
He grinned and nodded.
Thank you for finally dealing with that little bitch Sophia. I'm sure I can think of a few creative ways to reward you ;)
It was morbidly gratifying to finally see her talk about me the way I always suspected she did. The prim, sweet girl that roamed our office building was nowhere in sight, here. These emails were Jennifer unfiltered, and it showed exactly what a nasty piece of work she really was. Although my name came up most frequently, she seemed to have a grudge against almost everyone who posed even a vague threat to her advancement up the ladder. For a brief moment, I actually felt bad for her, for being so insecure, but that was quickly crushed under a torrent of glorious satisfaction at knowing she was finally going to get what she deserved.
"I knew they couldn't have had a decent reason for firing you."
I nodded, still mesmerised by the words in front of me. "You think it'll be enough to get my job back?"
"Definitely. These make it pretty clear that there was more to your dismissal than the quality of your work."
I realised I was grinning like an idiot. "I'll go first thing tomorrow," I said, already playing the confrontation through in my head.
His expression dropped a fraction. "I'd rather you wait until we've dealt with our other problem. It's still dangerous out there."
For a second, I thought I'd misheard. "You seriously expect me to sit on this? Why give it to me at all?"
He shrugged uncomfortably. "You seemed upset. I thought it might make you feel better knowing you can wander back into Little Bell when this is all over."
"And what am I meant to do in the meantime? Keep twiddling my thumbs around here? Look, I'm not downplaying the risk. I know it's not safe, but the truth is, we have no idea how long this is going to take. Sure, it could be a week, but it could be a month, or two, or six. Who's to say they're even going to show their faces again, without an opportunity?" I closed my eyes briefly, trying to rein in my emotions. I felt like a hormonal teenage girl again, flitting from jubilant to angry to upset in the blink of an eye. "I need something Sebastian. Being stuck here is killing me — pardon the pun. Surely we can find a way to make it work? You go to and from work every day and you're still in one piece."