Boss Undercover: Part 3 (Boss Undercover Series)

by J. S. Badham

  “What’s up?” she asked curiously.

  Zack shook his head. “I’m just annoyed for you.” Then he squeezed her shoulders. “We’ll fight this, Claire.”

  “How?” she said defeatedly. “What could I possibly do to change things now?” Claire exhaled, turning to face her desk as she continued to pack what she could manage into her handbag. “I’ve been dismissed. I have no job. I probably won’t ever get another. They’ll have this on my record as we speak. Face it, I’m done for.”

  His persistence was admirable, she had to admit. He was trying his best to reassure her. “Claire, don’t give up. We’ll figure something out. We’ll fight this. Get a lawyer or—do something.”

  Claire didn’t reply.

  “Miss Winter, my office,” she heard the familiar old, raspy voice of Graves intruding into their space. Claire turned in her seat, watching as Graves stalked away.

  “Claire, don’t,” Zack warned.

  “Why?”

  “He’s nothing but trouble. Let’s just go. I’ll come up with an excuse,” he explained, sounding desperate for Claire to stray away from him.

  “I should see what he has to say. Besides, maybe, it will be my chance to speak my mind. I’m a free woman, after all,” she stated confidently, standing up and complying with Graves’ order. “I have nothing else to lose.”

  Graves was sitting at his desk when she entered. That sprout of confidence she felt suddenly died as she closed the door behind her. The reality was sinking in deeper. She was fired. No job. And her former boss was looking meaner than ever as he pulled a face of disappointment as she meekly stepped further into his cage.

  “Miss Winter,” he began. They were even back on terms of formality. “It’s a disappointment, to say the least. My top employee within this department and you’ve disgraced us all by conspiring…but it’s your own fault.” He narrowed his eyes. “You can’t do anything now.”

  “Mr. Graves, I have by no means done what I have been accused of. I can only say this, however: I’m glad I no longer have to be manipulated by you and Monica Andrews. I shall not miss the constant work you put on me. So, if that’s all, I shall be leaving,” she replied firmly.

  Graves seemed to adopt suspicion within his eyes. “You have no idea, do you?” he muttered.

  “What do you mean?”

  He cleared his throat. “That—that I was planning on giving you the promotion instead,” he spoke hastily, gesturing his hands forward as he lazily pointed at her. “But you have gone and done this. So, I’m sorry that you’ve been so foolish, Miss Winter.”

  “I’m not so sure I’m convinced about that, Mr. Graves. But if that is the case, I would have rejected it,” she responded before dismissing herself without allowing another word.

  Chapter Three

  Zack

  Claire had barely touched her food. Her fork was playing with the meatball rolling from one end of the plate to the mountain of mash on the right side. He intentionally cleared his throat, hoping to catch her attention, but she remained stubbornly stuck in a trance. Not that he could blame her. Her Tuesday had been disastrous.

  “Claire, we’ll work through this,” he stated, reaching for her hand across the table. She looked up, offering a weak smile before turning back to her plate of food she continued to play with. “Are you not going to eat?”

  She shook her head.

  This was destroying him. He hated seeing her so lifeless and miserable. This isn’t what he wanted nor intended. It should be Graves without the job. He should be paying the punishment. Not Claire.

  “Claire, maybe I should be honest about—”

  But he was cut off by the abrupt intrusion of her mobile ringing on the side of the table. He glanced at the screen—it was her mother calling. Claire seemed to sit up more as she edged her hand slowly towards the electronic device but was hesitant as to whether she wanted to respond to the beckoning call. After all, he could only imagine she was fearing admitting to her mother she had lost her job.

  “Are you not going to answer it?”

  Claire pressed her lips tightly together. She was contemplating over it. Another three rings and then she picked it up and slid her finger across the screen to answer. Zack remained quiet as he observed her communicate, trying her best to sound content than what she was really feeling.

  “Hey, Mom. No, I’m okay,” she replied, a clear lie as she slowly got up. Claire squeezed Zack’s shoulder as she passed him before what he could assume was her needing space as she headed towards her bedroom.

  Zack remained sitting there. What was he going to do? How on earth could he sort out this mess? His mess. For a moment, Zack knew he was going to confess until that phone call. Maybe it was selfish to have put another dilemma in Claire’s court. Maybe he should be thankful for that call. To think he could have admitted to who he really was. Then what? Claire would just accept it and they’d live happily ever after? Of course not. It would be another punch in the face. Another problem weighing down on her shoulders.

  But he needed to do something. Anything. To make things right at the cost of his company’s sake.

  He stood up and then placed Claire’s dish in the microwave for safe-keeping before he headed out the kitchen towards her bedroom. On the other side of the door, he could hear her diving into her circumstance, admitting her job loss. Her voice was on the verge of crying at any point. Zack decided to quietly enter. She was startled by his presence, but it did not falter her attention to the phone.

  “Yeah, I know. I know. I just don’t understand—”

  Zack sat on the left hand side of the bed before kicking his legs on and then encouraging her to nestle within his arms. She complied, resting her head against his bicep as she continued to converse and listen to whatever her mother had to say.

  The conversation must have carried on for another fifteen minutes before Claire ended the call. She didn’t say anything at first nor did he. Instead, they both chose to remain silent.

  “I told her,” Claire finally said. “She’s angry at their decision. She said to me that we’ll get through it like you’ve been saying. But…it doesn’t make difference. I’m still jobless.”

  “But we will get through this,” Zack reassured, rubbing his hand up and down her shoulder.

  “Do you still want to go to my brother’s wedding with me?” She changed subjects.

  “Yes, of course. You know I said I will.”

  “Good.”

  Zack bit his inner cheek. “Claire.” He paused. No, he couldn’t bring it up. The time wasn’t right. It just wouldn’t be fair. “Just keep positive. I’m sure everything will get better.”

  It was difficult to pretend that everything was all right when it was far from. Zack wasn’t even sure why he was still keeping this façade up. Claire had lost her job, he had no ideas on how to get Graves to rat out his mystery accomplice, and the failure of his projects were amounting to more pressure on his shoulders.

  ***

  Claire had been desperately circling jobs ads in the morning newspaper, unable to comprehend that with an attached side note of conspiracy charged against her name, she pretty much had a narrow choice to who was willing to employ her. Any of the bigger companies with similar roles wouldn’t even turn an eye to her. Zack knew that. Her employability record was tainted because of Graves and whoever he had hiding up his sleeve.

  “At this point, I’ll be lucky if I get a job. All of these will want a reference from my last employer. I’m just gonna have to find a small shop or something, find someone who will either turn a blind eye or not ask for my employability record,” Claire explained, sounding fed up and frustrated as she folded the paper in half.

  Zack was sitting opposite, quiet and shamefully guilty. This just wasn’t fair. This shouldn’t be happening. Claire didn’t deserve this. This was all his fault. He shouldn’t have stepped into her life. He’d brought all this onto her. And he knew it was only going to get worse once the truth finall
y slipped out.

  “Shouldn’t you be getting to work?” she inquired, looking up from her coffee mug and meeting his eyes.

  Zack shook his head. “It—doesn’t matter. I’m just going to stay home and make sure you’re okay. I—”

  “Zack, don’t be silly. You can’t not go to work because of me,” she interjected. “Besides…you’re the breadwinner at this moment until I find another job. I have just enough to cover next month’s rent and afford some…food.” Claire groaned as she ran her hands through her hair. “God, I hate feeling so dependent. It just sucks.”

  “You’ll find a job, Claire,” he reassured, providing comfort to her hand across the table. His fingers caressed the soft pad of skin. “I’m sure of it.” Doubts were nagging him as he sat back in his chair and slipped his hand away from hers. Was everything going to be all right? Could he promise that? And what if she knew that he literally had the authority to change things and prevented what shouldn’t have happened but didn’t because selfishly he was too concerned about his company and the outside contact sticking their noses in? Wouldn’t that change things? Claire wouldn’t look at him the same. She’d hate him.

  “I’ll be…fine.” She exhaled. “Just—just don’t worry about me and go to work. I don’t want to be the reason for you losing your job,” she said, trying to present a strong smile that was failing to convince Zack.

  But he’d complied, knowing Claire was stubborn as a mule and would persist ceaselessly.

  Maybe if he was lucky something would crop up.

  At least that’s what he hoped when he exited the lift shaft and stepped into the department. Zack was a little clueless to what to do. Looking around at the maze of cubicles, he was wondering why on earth he was bothering to keep up appearances down here. But what was he supposed to do upstairs? He’d made it transparent to Olivia that he clearly knew not what to do with the impending problem of Graves.

  Why did I bother? I should have just listened to my father. This quest for sustainability was stupid. Even someone on the outside agrees. The thoughts swarmed his mind as he walked slowly towards Claire’s empty desk.

  Not a soul was there. The removal of her belongings made the sight look like a death. It just didn’t look right. Zack exhaled as he pulled the desktop chair out and sunk down onto it. There was not a trace of her, he believed, until his fingers ran across a sticky note stuck beneath the letter tray poking its head out. He picked it out, smiling a little to himself as he recognised Claire’s dainty handwriting. It was an old reminder to pick up bread on the way out of work, perhaps months old from its hidden presence.

  God, what was he going to do?

  Someone tapped his shoulder softly. Zack flinched a little before he swivelled the chair around. Jason was standing there, appearing a little apprehensive himself as he cleared his throat.

  “Sorry, I didn’t know—I guess.” He paused, pushing his hands into his trouser pockets. “I guess I just didn’t think Claire was like that,” he finally said after what could have only seemed a desperate second or two to articulate the words.

  Zack rejected his statement. “Claire didn’t.”

  “I just assumed because of what Graves said this morning that—”

  “Well, she didn’t. Some bastard has had it out for her. And for you to think that Claire could actually do something like that is low—” He cut him off, narrowing his eyes as the shame shadowed over Jason’s face.

  “I just…Graves just went through it this morning, and when Claire didn’t say anything the other day, I just assumed—I’m sorry. I feel like a bad friend. God, this isn’t right,” he admitted, bringing his hand to his forehead and rubbing back the short strands of blond hair in vexation.

  Zack didn’t say a word.

  “Well…tell Claire hi from me, and if she needs a friend, I’m here,” he finished, perhaps acknowledging Zack’s silence as a sign for his presence to diminish.

  Jason dispersed, and yet the silence of peace Zack hoped for was interrupted by the worst human Zack could think of. Graves. He stopped inside the cubicle, suspicious it seemed of Zack occupying the supposed desolate space. His blue shirt was creased around the collar, and his grey hair was bedraggled and looked like it needed a cut. Bags of sleep rested under his eyes, showing his war with sleep.

  “I didn’t expect anyone to be in here,” Graves muttered rather quietly, his lips twitching and moving uncomfortably over one another. Perhaps he was going to investigate, search for any remaining clues that could give him insight to Claire’s involvement. The cubicle was empty besides the computer, keyboard, tower, and mouse.

  Zack lifted his left brow. He was intentionally prying as he asked Graves the simple question. “Do you really think Claire conspired against the company?”

  “Mr. Chase, I believe the evidence. If that’s what the board has found, then of course, I have no doubts, but to put my hundred percent confidence in what they’ve decided…I must admit it was a shame and a surprise to hear that my top employee was behind the motive. But that’s just that,” he replied, his underlining tone sinister.

  Zack wanted more than anything to confront Graves right here and now, to expose the truth and watch the fear flicker in his eyes, but he chose against. He had to extract the vital information about the mysterious accomplice first before striking Graves off the list. How was the question.

  “Now if you don’t mind, Mr. Chase, I need to make the final checks to ensure there’s nothing incriminating that Miss Winter has left behind. You never know,” he stated.

  Zack stood up, trying his best to remain calm as he exited the cubicle.

  ***

  Claire

  What was one supposed to do with all this free time? Twiddle your thumbs? Sit by the apartment window staring out onto the street and counting the cars as they passed by? Oh, look, that’s three yellow cars I’ve seen go by! Or, oh look, I wonder what that person is up to!

  Her sanity was on its last thread. She couldn’t stand this. She should be at work, not lounging at home. It’s not like she had any choice until she managed to get another job. But at this point, she was completely losing motivation knowing her choices were very limited with consideration of her new, flashing record warning employers to stay away from her. Who could trust someone who conspired against their company? Even if you’re innocent. No one.

  Claire had thought about visiting Darren in person. She had yet to tell him of her news. She didn’t blame him for not contacting her yesterday; he had a lot on his plate, which was why she decided against going to visit. He needed his space. Claire didn’t want to add her own problem onto him. And besides, it seemed more than sensible and necessary to save her spare change that could have been used for the bus, for the possibility of remaining jobless at this point. What if she had to get state welfare? What if no one would hire her? Her nagging thoughts were desperate. Claire was sure she going to have a breakdown at this point.

  The hours were dragging on by. Claire had achieved nothing. She’d probably switched sitting positions twice as she had flickered through the channels on the TV and must have gotten up three times to attend to her necessary needs of food and using the bathroom. But other than that, each second, minute, and hour felt like an eternity. An eternity in hell. She wanted Zack here. She wanted his company. At least the thought that he would return later was a comfort.

  Claire was near enough falling asleep for the third time this morning until her attention was shaken by the series of gentle knocks upon the front door.

  Her posture was sluggish and slow as she trailed over, not expecting much other than perhaps the postman needing a signature for a parcel. She opened the door, pleasantly surprised and thankful to see her mother standing there holding her arms at the ready. Claire pretty much raced into her arms, inhaling the sweet lavender scent of her mother’s perfume dabbed on the cotton cloth of her purple jumper, and instantly melted into the bubble of protection reminding her of home and her juvenile existence.<
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  “Mom, I-I didn’t know y-you were coming,” Claire began, a blubbering mess as she pulled back.

  Claire’s mother smiled warmly, entering across the threshold of the apartment and placing her brown leather handbag on the sideboard lined up against the wall.

  “Honey, I would have come late last night. I just couldn’t risk having your father sleeping at the steering wheel. He was up late messing on his bloody mechanics.” She gently rolled her eyes. “He would have come with me now, but he’s wrapped up in helping Matt for the wedding. He sends his love and is so sorry for your job,” she explained, pulling off her loose blue jacket.

  “It’s fine, honestly. I’m just glad you’ve come,” Claire replied, offering to hang her coat up onto the hooks where Claire’s own and Zack’s were hanging dormant.

  “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry about all of this. I just don’t understand how they’ve done this to you. We’ll have to get someone official, a lawyer or something, to fight your case. It’s just ridiculous that you’ve been dismissed,” her mother went on, her facial expression sympathetic.

  “There’s no point, Mom. They’ve got some pretty darn good evidence that makes me look completely guilty. I just feel like…my life’s fucked now,” Claire said miserably as she took to perch on the arm of the sofa.

  Her mother followed suit, folding her arms as she gently sat on the sofa. “You’ll get through this, Claire. You know me and your father will support you in any way. You always have a home back at home.”

  “I know, Mom. Thank you.”

  “God, your brother’s getting married in the next two weeks and my daughter has been wrongly accused of this. It’s not right. We’re all supposed to be looking forward to Matt’s wedding,” she sighed.

  “And we still will, Mom,” Claire reassured as she clasped her mother’s hand and squeezed it once. “I’m not going to let this ruin Matt’s wedding. I’ll find a job. Besides, Zack will help me out as much as I’ll let him—”