“It looks like it,” she returns, before she hits the lights and begins a slideshow.
The next hour and a half passes slowly, me nodding along whenever someone pauses, making thoughtful noises whenever someone asks a question. I don’t contribute anything real and I don’t think anyone notices.
Who really checks those cameras anyway?
I chew on my nails for a few minutes, not even partially convincing myself. I remember when some monitors suddenly went missing from the office a few months ago, they had checked the elevator tapes to find the culprit.
In some part of my gut, I knew this was coming. I’ve been so stupid, so reckless. I should never have given in to everything I was feeling with Khent. It wasn’t ever going to be all flowers and sunshine, I shouldn’t have wanted to think that it could have been.
Would sneaking back into the elevator and hitting the camera with my stapler make it all go away?
I marinate on the thought for several minutes, and as cathartic as it seems like it would be, that wouldn’t work. They probably store the footage in one of the security offices.
I think on it for a while, each crossed off half-baked idea sinking me further and further into depression.
“...And from the elevator–”
“What?” I snap, and my head turns to look at my coworkers so fast my glasses slide down my nose.
They kind of stare back at me, surprise across their faces.
“I said the email from the systems administrator,” Bill repeats for me, a creak of concern in his ancient voice.
“Oh,” I say weakly, realizing I misheard.
My coworkers exchange glances and internally shrug it off. Conversation takes a moment before it picks back up to a normal pace. I just try to survive the meeting without looking like I’m trying to hide behind a notebook.
When it ends and I get to hide in the quiet of my office again, collapsing into my chair with a swiftness that makes my glasses clatter onto my desk.
I sigh and grind the heel of my palms into my eyes, smearing my makeup no doubt.
There’s nothing I can do.
Someone was going to see that footage. Someone was going to see me and Khent making wildly inappropriate usage of company property. Someone was going to file a report about it, and then the pair of us were going to be sent to MR.
Maybe it wouldn’t be today. Maybe it wouldn’t happen tomorrow, or even this week. But sooner or later, someone was going to check that footage.
Was it worth it? To be constantly looking over my shoulder? For when this relationship would trip me up and be my professional downfall? Whether it was the elevator security footage or something else, it was going to happen. I’ve been here before, I know how it goes.
I’m replaceable, all employees are.
Being in HR, you get to know that better than anyone. No quicker way to sweep up liability issues than to let a worker go over the first blip.
And I’m going to take the fall, again.
I closed my eyes and massaged my temples, pushing my fingers up into the mess of my hair. Human resources didn't help me then, I doubt Monster Resources will help me now.
I just wasn’t going to wait around to get fired.
My laptop pings. Just yesterday the message notification noise that had made my heart flutter wildly, feels like a little crack in my chest now.
I turn to my computer somehow both listless and panicked.
I fidget for several minutes and agonize over the keys and eventually send a single line email: There was a camera in the elevator.
My focus is scattered as I slowly wade through paperwork, not letting myself obsessively refresh my inbox the way I want to. I need to hear from him even if it hurts.
I break after 10 minutes.