Chapter 1
“SEVEN YEARS SWEETHEART”
1
“I’m owed a raise.” Slam! The black folder file laid open with months and years of evidence of not only the once bright-eyed intern’s works and accomplishments but also the pile of different jobs that had been thrust onto her when she first began at this agency. Marigold stared across the desk at her boss, her brows furrowed and eyes bright once again with determination. This had been a long time coming for the now 31-year-old woman and with her brush with death from the month before, Marigold’s new sense of confidence was still high.
“Owed a raise? For running coffees? Mary-“
“Bullshit! Look here, I do more than run coffees,” the corner of her upper lip lifted in disgust and anger as she leaned forward on the desk after she had spread out all the proof “You out of all people know I do more than just run coffees. Without me your reports, your health, and your schedule alone would be ruined without me,” Marigold pointed to the spreadsheet with the man’s “name” on the top of it. Hours, days, and years of Marigold’s time spent doing anything and everything her boss would through at her written out and numbers of time spent as well as personal money lost written out. Marigold was usually a timid woman and very much the cursed people-pleaser that these types of agencies used until they either broke or were no longer of use. For the last seven years, Marigold had been with this agency through many events and many times had been on the front lines to provide aid. Many higher-ups knew Marigold by name as they also had developed their own form of dependency on her as well which only caused her workload to be expanded into different departments; yet, without a doubt, those same people would agree with her boss that she was just the coffee girl for the last seven years—no more.
No more late nights
No more being kidnapped.
“Dylan,” Marigold spoke softly and that softness was a comfortable familiarity for Dylan as his shoulders dropped ever so slightly “I know I don’t have all the degrees or whatever for this place—but shouldn’t my experience be enough proof?”
“Mari,”
“Marigold! please don’t treat me like I don’t know what you’re trying to do here. I’m not your friend, I’m your employee.” An exasperated sigh followed her words as her brows began to relax back into their original soft arch shape
“My apologies, Marigold, I understand you must be frustrated. Please do understand you are a valued part of this very important operation; Without your support things would be slightly unpleasant here,” Dylan smiled as he relaxed more and entwined his fingers together as to rest his chin on them “Not to mention you help moral with a certain someone. Without him, we’d be in deep waters.”
“But without me what? You’d be fine?”
“I never said that.”
“Your tone speaks loud and clear for you.” Marigold straightened her posture and took a step back. Looking past Dylan, Marigold looked into the mirror and what stared back for a moment was a face she made whenever she just wanted to make peace. Not this time though. She had to see this through this time or else this issue would never go away. Marigold’s hands formed a fist as they remained to her sides, and her gaze returned to her boss. Dylan still had that condescending smile. That smile only ever appeared before Marigold.
Silence in the room was deafening and the two simply stared at one another before Dylan broke the silence with a slight chuckle. This man was laughing at her now? Of course he was, Dylan had never taken Marigold seriously in matters in the sense of her agency as a human being. Just a girl he ordered around with whatever task he did not want to be bothered with at that moment.
“My tone speaks now? Oh my, how poetic. Listen, I could think about giving you a raise though it may take some time.”
“Some time? The new hires have a higher pay than I do! I’ve been here for almost a decade!”
“Seven years sweetheart.” Dylan chuckled again and reminded himself that this was just sweet Marigold who would bring in homemade cakes for someone’s birthday. How could a woman like her—
“How dare you?” Her voice lowered a pitch and any warmthDylan was used to had lost all trace she spoke “I’m not just your coffee girl; I’m most definitely not your sweetheart. Dylan, it’s a yes or no question: Am. I. Getting. My. Raise.”
“No,” Dylan rose from his seat; even from behind the desk he still towered over Marigold “You’re not. You are great working here, and I would hate to lose you—but, at the end of the day if I did I could replace you.”
Shoulders make and a tightness growing within her chest, Marigold nodded and removed her ID badge, a silver bracelet with a panic button, and her earpiece to place it all on the desk along with her sheets.
“I hope you find someone soon, sir.” Grabbing her bag from the chair Marigold began to exit Dylan’s office and straight to the elevator before she paused and sighed heavily. She needed that stupid badge to use the elevator. Quickly Marigold began to make her exit through the staircase.
By floor 15 Marigold finally stopped and sat down on the stairs with heels in hand and allowing what she had just done finally hit her.
“Fuck.”
The sound of the siren went off and Marigold groaned as she rested her forehead against the handrail of the stairs.
“Fuck.”
