My Hot New Year
 “Well, it might be sooner than…”
    “Can you hold just a second?”
    “Sure...” I respond.
    “Don’t panic!”  I yell to myself.  The key is to stay calm and to focus on something -- anything!  God, it’s cold out here!  I set my purse down and find a tree near the entrance to lean against.  I can’t go inside now!  What if he sees me?  What on God’s green earth am I going to say to him?  Tick Tock.  Why does this man get so far under my skin?  It’s only as I’m waiting silently for his return that I begin to wonder whether he’s figured out that I am a Wilshire employee.  Oh gosh!  What will I say?  Okay.  I will say that I’m so happy he’s called because I just figured this out myself and I wanted to give him a heads up before the big meeting.  That sounds convincing enough.  Then, he’s back without even a second to breathe, he is ready to end the conversation.
    Wait…is that even considered a conversation when one person does all the talking?
    “I’m sorry -- I’m going to have to call you back.  My meeting is about to start.  We’ll talk later.”
    “Right,” I say, trying to sound calm.  Then I realize there’s no need.  With a click, he is gone.
    My heart starts to pound in a panic.  That’s MY meeting!  I know I’ve had a tendency to go off the deep end a little with my obsession with Jake, but I need to talk to him.  He can’t just hang up just like that.
    With shaky legs I walk toward the entrance, not looking right or left.  This is my nightmare.  I just have to go in there and face reality.  What if I bump into him, as I head into the elevator?  Oh my, the very thought makes me feel sick.
    I exit the elevator and begin to walk to my cubicle in the far corner, looking away from anyone coming into my peripheral vision.  I absolutely can’t make eye contact with these people.  I pause to put my purse down when behind me, somebody sighs loudly.  I can feel my face growing hotter and hotter.  I don’t dare look back.  I don’t dare move.
    Okay, I’m safe.  It’s just Jim, my boss.  Wait...why is my boss greeting me at my cubicle moments before the big staff meeting?  Rats.  Just because it’s not Jake, that doesn’t mean I’m off the hook.
    “Oh dear,” I say as I swing around.
    “I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” Jim says, after taking a swig of his coffee.  I can come back when you get settled.  I do need to speak with you.”  His tone is serious.
    Here we go.  My eyes dance across my desk in search of anything and everything I will need to dump into a cardboard box before I am escorted out of the building.
    “Would you like to speak now?”  I ask politely, thinking at least I could get this over with before the meeting.
    “Sure, follow me,” Jim says as he walks toward his office.  As I focus on avoiding hyperventilation, I recognize my boss looks uncharacteristically put together.  His typical disheveled salt and pepper hair is combed, and he smells of expensive cologne.  Yep, it’s a sure sign: the new bosses are in town.
    “Have a seat,” he murmurs, gesturing to the leather chair in front of his mahogany desk.  Then he meets my eye.  You only get fired once in your life Jillian; you better make the most of it.
    “Well, I’ll make this easy on you, Jim. I know what’s coming,” I confess.
    “You do?”  He raises an eyebrow.
    “Yes, I am grateful for all the time I’ve had here at Wilshire, but I recognize it must come to an end.  The writing has been on the wall,” I say.
    “It has?”  He questions me again.
    “Yes, I’ve heard the rumors, and I realize that you have no choice in this.”  I look down at my shoes waiting for his unfortunate agreement.
    "Actually, Jillian, that’s not why I called you in here,” he admits.
    “It’s not?”
    Shit!  What NOW?  What ELSE could there possibly be?  Just when I’d sworn off alcohol...
    “We are quite proud of your achievements here, and

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