Seeing Her

Michael

Sandra leaned over her desk to get a front row seat to what was happening with Rainey and me. When I caught her eye, she jumped and sat down in her chair.

Rainey didn’t mention her last pay stub, so I imagined she thought we would mail it to her. I watched her for a moment, collecting the few items of hers in the desk. An extra sweater, a pair of sunglasses, a small glass paperweight that doubled as a clock. Those were the remaining reminders of her in my office. Could I let her go that easily?

She seemed polite enough. I had a sneaking suspicion she had no idea about the extra money in her account. She hadn’t seen it yet. If she had, then I’d get an earful from her at that moment. At least we could start the conversation on a professional note, not an emotional one.

“Your pay stub is in my office,” I said.

“Oh,” she said, finally looking at me. Her gaze flitted between my chin and nose, our eyes never quite meeting. It was like a punch to the gut. Even though I’d never admit