Gemotions

The new guy, Mark, was wearing a blindingly bright tie. It was a visual assault, and it mirrored the feeling in her gut. He had a smile plastered on his face and an unnerving confidence. He asked too many questions, as if he thought he was actually capable of doing the job.

“And the project code is…?” he inquired, his pen poised. She paused, deliberately misremembering. “It’s… um… QX789… I think,” she said, her tone deliberately casual. The number, of course, was wrong. She watched as he diligently wrote it down. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.