Monday Meeting

Photo of a coffee cup with a floral design. Caption reads: " 'Get me a coffee, sweetheart,' he said."

Monday Meeting

Short story by Iris Carden

Candace woke up Monday morning. That was her first mistake. Her second was going to work.

She was checking her calendar with Angie in the front office when he came in. He was two metres tall and almost as wide, everything about him exuded a sense of sliminess.

Candace offered her hand to shake, “Hi, I’m Candace and you would be…”

“I’m Brett Marshall,” he said. “and I’m about to become your boss. I just have a little meeting with your Executive Manager to confirm it. So run along now sweetheart and get me a coffee, white with two sugars. You’re going to need to remember that.”

Then he stepped closer and slapped her behind.

Candace gritted her teeth and opened the door to the main office. “Just take a seat here for a moment, would you?” she asked.

She closed the door and grimaced at Angie.

“Here’s the job application,” Angie said as she handed over the file.

Candace looked over the file. The resume had looked so promising too.

She walked into her office.

“Hey, where’s that coffee?” the slimy man asked.

Candace sat down behind her desk, and gave him a moment to register what was happening.

“Mr Marshall,” she said. “On reviewing your application again, and upon witnessing your behaviour, I have decided you are not a good fit for my company. I wish you well in your search to progress your career elsewhere.” She emphasised the last word.

“Oh you jumped up little bitch,” he practically yelled. “I don’t know who you slept with to get this job, but I’m going to go over your head. I’m going to the owner. We’ll see who has a job and who’s progressing their career elsewhere!”

He slammed the door as he left, charging our the main door.

“Doesn’t look like that went well,” Angie commented to Candace as she emerged from her office.

“He’s going to appeal my decision,” Candace said.

Angie was confused. “Who on Earth is he going to appeal to?”

“Me,” Candace replied. “Are you sure you don’t want the promotion?”

“No,” Angie said. “I couldn’t deal with creeps like that one.”

Candace sighed. “Give me the next one’s application,” she said.

This story is a response to this week’s Saturday Writing Club Writing Prompt.

By Iris Carden

Iris Carden is an Australian indie author, mother, grandmother, and chronic illness patient. On good days, she writes. Because of the unpredictability of her health, she writes on an indie basis, not trying to meet deadlines. She lives on a disability support pension now, but her ultimate dream is to earn her own living from her writing.

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