A dinner party

It’s been a few minutes since we got back to the office. I can’t help the feeling of dread that something terrible is going to happen to me. After the meeting finished, Mr. Crawford didn’t say a word to me the whole ride back to the office. I could feel his eyes glaring at the back of my head whole way. The worst part in all of this is, I don’t know what I did wrong. I’ve been pacing up and down around my desk while biting my nails. It’s a bad habit I do when I am nervous. I’m scared of Mr. Crawford doing something harmful to me. The bruise on my arm might not have been intentional, but it hurt. I imagine it could be much worse if he wants to hurt me intentionally.

I jump in fear when I hear the phone ringing. I knew he’d call me to come to his office, but I didn’t think it would be this soon. I take my time to pick up the phone and answer. Before words can form in my mouth, he speaks and cuts the call. I’m lucky I was able to hear him before he hung up.

I take three deep breaths bef