Lauren: Fired

I sit down heavily on the couch and scan the article:
                 Several top executives have been placed on paid leave while an undisclosed, independent  company investigates claims of sexual harassment.  One former employee from the company's Boulder office has come forward and said that she was sexually harassed on several occasions by her former supervisor.  Sean Condin, the supervisor in question, was quickly and quietly moved to one of the Denver locations following the incident.  This appears to be his second move within the company. Condin, who was already on paid leave for unknown reasons, was fired yesterday amidst the accusations.

There's more, but I've seen enough.  "Wow," I say, slowly folding the newspaper.  Then the dots connect and I look up at Alex in panic.  "Shit, what if they think I violated the non-disclosure?"

"The employee in the article is from the Boulder office," Alex reminds me.  "And from the sounds of it, this is something that has been in the works for awhile.  Probably since before you even quit."

"Which explains why they were so eager to give me a nice severance package and have me sign the non-disclosure," I reply.  "What the fuck."

"That means they knew this was happening the whole time," Alex finishes my thought.  "That's..."

"I know."  We look at each for several seconds, then I shake my head and say, "I'm glad I don't work there anymore."

"I am too," Alex says.

I narrow my eyes.  "And I knew there was something off with him!  I told you."

"You did tell me."

"And you blew me off," I accuse him.

"I did blow you off," he agrees again.  "I will never blow you off again."  Then he smirks, because apparently he's 12 and "blow you off" is funny.

"Good, because I imagine you still want to be blown at some point in your life," I retort.

"Mmm, I kind of want to be blown right now," he replies, cocking an eyebrow at me.

"That sucks," I tell him, standing up.  I intend to go back into the kitchen to finish the dishes I was washing when he called for me.  He snorts and I roll my eyes.  "Go ahead, make the joke," I dare him.

"Well it's not fun anymore," he complains.

I smirk and head towards the kitchen.  "Neither is blowing you!" I call over my shoulder.

"Ouch!" he yells back.  "I'll remember that!"

"File it away with your fond memories of blow jobs!" I shoot back.

I hear him start laughing and I grin to myself.  Now that Alex is starting to work again a little, he's been in a really great mood most of the time, rather than just some of the time.  I've even dragged him grocery shopping with me just to get him out of the house, even though I absolutely hate grocery shopping with him.  He's like a small child, wandering away and coming back with fruit snacks or random cookies and throwing them in the cart.  I reach down to grab something, stand up, and he's gone.  Reach for something else, turn around, and he's back with candy.  It's the worst.  But getting him out of the house helps his mood more than anything else, so I suffer in silence.

I'm just finishing up the dishes when Alex yells, "Your work ex-boyfriend is texting you again!"

"You must mean my ex-work ex-boyfriend," I correct him, walking back into the living room.

"I have no idea what I mean," he replies, handing my phone to me.

"Are you supporting my ex-work-romance?" I tease him, sitting down next to him.

He snorts.  "No, I already read the text when it popped up on the screen and it's clearly not romantic in nature."  I cut my eyes at him and he laughs.  "And also I trust you, and all that jazz."

I roll my eyes and open the text.  It says, "Holy shit.  You see the paper?"

"Yes, can't say I'm shocked." I text back.  I see Alex trying not to peek and I thrust my phone in front of his face.  "You can just look if you want to," I tell him, smirking.

"I don't want to!" he insists, shutting his eyes.  I laugh and hold my phone an inch from his face so his eyes cross when he opens them.  "Seriously, are you 12?" he asks, laughing.

"Says the guy who was making blow job jokes earlier," I reply, shaking my head.

"No, I believe you tragically took that pleasure away from me," he says.

I can't help it, I burst out laughing.  "It has so many meanings," I say when I finally get my shit together.  My phone vibrates in my hand, startling me enough that I drop it.  Alex tries not to laugh, but when I try to use my toes to pull it closer and end up sending it skittering across the room, he cracks up, holding his ribs with both hands.  "You're the worst," I mutter, walking over and picking it up.

"I'm the worst for laughing because you dropped your phone and then kicked it across the room?" he asks, wiping tears off his cheeks.

I don't answer, simply glaring at him instead.  I swing my feet up onto the couch, propping them against his leg, as I text back and forth with Logan for a couple minutes.  Alex takes one of my feet and starts massaging it.  "If you're trying to win back blow job privileges you're doing a great job," I inform him.

"I'm not even," he replies, shaking his head.  "Don't think everything you've done for me in the last 6 weeks has gone unnoticed.  I think you've totally earned a foot rub."  He stops abruptly, placing my foot back down on the couch.  "In another 6 weeks, I'll do the other one."

I raise my eyes from my phone and he's smirking at me.  "You're the worst," I tell him.  "I'm going out for lunch and I'm not taking you with me and I'm not bringing anything back for you."

"Finally some peace and quiet.  See you later!" he replies, fighting to keep a straight face.

I lift my phone to my ear and pretend to be having a conversation.  "Hi, Liv?  I'm going to need a shovel and an alibi."

Alex grins and leans over, grabbing my hand and tugging.  "Come here," he requests.  I shift around and settle myself carefully against his right side.  "I love you."

"I love you too," I reply.  "And I know you appreciate all the hard, agonizing work I've put in over the last several weeks.  I'll be patiently awaiting your repayment."

Alex chuckles.  "Okay, I'll keep that in mind."

I have plans to have lunch with Kendra, who has the week off work.  Alex jokingly complains about me leaving him on his own for lunch but quickly shuts up when I offer to bring him back some food.  I haven't spent much time with Kendra lately.  She was pretty sick for the first couple months of her pregnancy so she wasn't doing much.

"Hi!" I greet her cheerfully when I walk into the restaurant.  She's standing just inside the door, waiting patiently for me.  We hug briefly, because it has been that long, and I grin at her.  "You look so good," I tell her.

"I feel fat," she complains.  She smooths her shirt carefully over her itty bitty bump.  "It's just enough that I just look really bloated."

"Not a chance," I assure her honestly.

We sit down and order an appetizer, then start catching up.  I miss her, and I don't even realize it until we're sitting here talking.  Missing people is weird like that for me.

"So I just got a promotion a couple weeks ago, and I feel bad because--" Kendra starts.

"You got a promotion?" I ask, surprised.  "I had no idea!  Congratulations!"

She smiles shyly.  "I did," she confirms.  "I haven't seen you so I guess I didn't even think to tell you, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I insist, feeling guilty for not keeping in touch with her better.  "Okay, go on."

"I feel bad because they don't know I'm pregnant.  I'm worried they're going to be pissed that I didn't tell them when they offered it to me, but I was worried they would take it back."

"I don't think that's legal," I say, shaking my head.

She shrugs.  "Even so, I didn't want them to second guess it.  Though I guess they will when I tell them, anyway."

We chat about her promotion for awhile and then I fill her in about what's new with my former job.  an hour passes really quickly and I'm disappointed when she says she has to go home to meet a contractor that's doing some remodeling on their house before the baby comes.

We hug again and I get in the car.  I'm driving home when my phone rings.  It's a number I don't recognize, and I ignore it.  It rings again as I'm walking into Alex's house.  Irritated, I answer it.  "Is this Lauren?" an unfamiliar voice asks.

"Yes, who is this?" I snap.

"My name is Jacob, and I'm a reporter for the Denver Post.  Were you recently fired or let go from your job?  I'd like to talk to you about your former company."