Under Locke(8)

What I should have done was ask him the day before to explain to me one more time how to work the program.



Half of it had been more than easy enough. Memos, dates, all that stuff I could guess. But I'd already gone through the same spreadsheet twice, and I swear two of the numbers on the balance were different than they had been originally.



Holy crap.



I had two options. I could go ask Dex for help. The other would be that I could look up instructional videos on how to use the accounting program because the Help button wasn't as helpful as I'd hoped.



In hindsight, I'm really not sure why I chose to ask Dex instead of suffering through a thirty minute long video.



But I got up and headed toward his office, feeling that same urge to gag as the day before, creep up my throat.



Crap. Crap. Crap.



The folder clung to my fingertips as I paused right outside of the opened office door. Dex was behind his desk, a sheet of paper spread out where the keyboard had been yesterday. A pencil bobbed back and forth as he stared at the sheet, two fingers pinched the bridge of his nose.



Deep down I knew I was going to regret this. I really, really did.



"Hey Dex?"



Those two Crayola Blue eyes shifted up to look at me. Emotionless. Impassive. "Yeah?"



I had to swallow back the urge to gag as I lifted the blue folder for him to see. My mouth, the traitor, lifted up into a nervous smile. "I'm having some trouble with that program you showed me yesterday, and I was wondering if you could show me how to use it one more time?"



He didn't say anything. That concentrated, undiluted gaze stayed on me indefinitely.



And the babbling kept spewing out of me. "I just don't want to mess it up any more."



Dex's blink was so slow it could have lasted a day. The hand that had been up shielding his mouth while his fingertips pinched the bridge of his nose, dropped. He let out a deep, deep sigh straight from the monstrous caverns hidden beneath his chest and flat abs. "You already fucked it up?"



Triple crap.



I'd smiled at things worse than Dex, so the fact that my nervous smile stayed on my face wasn't a surprise. "I may have messed it up, but I haven't saved my work yet. That's why I was hoping you could help me."



He looked up at the ceiling and closed those brilliant eyes. "Fuck me. Fuck me."



Quadruple crap.



Maybe I should have told him I was sorry for bothering him, but I wasn't. I really didn't know very well what I was doing, and I figured that I was saving him time now by asking for clarification and not waiting till later and causing a bigger mess. Right?



"I already showed you how to do this shit yesterday, girl. I don't have time to hold your fuckin' hand through this, got it?"



What. The. Hell?



Something that wasn't exactly shame or humiliation rushed through me. I wasn't sure what exactly the emotion was, but it left this terrible, sticky layer over my skin.



"I'll show you one more time, but if you can't handle somethin' as easy as that program then I don't think you have any business workin' for me. I need help around here. I don't have time to be helpin' the help, make sense?" he asked in that clipped, sharp tone that could saw off pieces of lumber.



My fingers curled into themselves on their own just as something knotted in my throat. I was a spineless little wuss. Where had this person come from?



I was pretty passive. Okay, extremely passive, but I could hold my own. I knew when to say no. I knew when people took advantage of me. Yet, there I was. Letting my boss get mad because I hadn't mastered how to do something on the first try.



A spineless little wuss that went and sat right next to Dex, the wielder of the verbal whip, and let him show me how to use the damn computer program one more time.



It seemed like the words went in one ear and settled gracefully deep in my memory. I'd just nodded through the entire fifteen minute demonstration, keeping my eyes directly on the screen and avoiding all forms of communication with him.



By the time the impromptu tutorial was over, I high-tailed it back to the front desk to start the spreadsheet all over again. I mumbled out my thanks and tucked my tail between my legs. Embarrassed and a little pissed off weren't exactly my favorite emotions. I hadn't even been able to look him in the eye.



I kept myself busy after that by asking Blake if there was anything I could help him with when he was free. He showed me how to sterilize the bottles they used to rinse off ink. He showed me where all the artists kept their business cards. How to use the thermal fax in the break room. Where the catalogues were for ordering supplies—I told him I didn't know how to do that yet and he grinned, promising that I'd learn soon.