Other Man - 17

17.

Ruth found herself scrutinized by the occupants of the President’s floor more intensely than being a criminal. It was her second time on that floor, and once again, mocking glances were directed her way. These individuals, accustomed to seeing familiar faces, likely comprised a high-ranking circle.

She, a new face, assumed the appearance of a janitor.

“Just constantly follow me. Lift your head, Miss Eduardo,” the man instructed, prompting her to obey. “You’re here for the boss and not for them.”

She nodded, finding a lift in her spirits. It lightened the weight on her and her somewhat lowly identity.

“Wait here,” the man said, pointing to a cubicle.

Entering the boss’s office after a couple of knocks, he left her sitting in a chair, hands clasped. Her gaze seemed fixed at the door as if the surroundings were devoid of any other presence.

“Come in,” the man who had accompanied her earlier said, so she stood up and walked toward the door. She grasped the doorknob and slowly turned i