Gemotions

Michael stared out the window, the cityscape a blur of movement and noise, a complete contrast to the quiet unease settling in his gut. He had been reviewing the project budget, and a certain line item, the one for his new assistant, caught his attention. He looked again. There had to be a mistake.

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he usually reserved for presentations. His jaw clenched. How could she, fresh out of college, make more than he did? He who had a decade of experience, who had sacrificed evenings and weekends?

He felt a sudden, inexplicable heat in his face. He felt the need to pace, the need to shout, the need to understand. He wanted to know how she'd managed this, what secret handshake she possessed. He took a deep, shaky breath, the air feeling thin and unsatisfying.