The Wrong Attachment

After I accidentally uploaded a rant post instead of my resignation letter, the messages went like this.

Me: [Did you see the file I submitted?]

He: [Mm… yeah. I saw it.]

Me: [Then why didn't you reply? You don't approve?]

He went quiet.

I lost my patience and typed back, [If you're not saying anything, I'll take that as a yes. I'll come by your office this afternoon.]

He replied almost instantly. [That fast?]

Me: [Fast? How is that fast?]

He: [I need some time to think.]

Two seconds later, another message came in. [Is that okay?]

I said yes.

He ended up leaving work early and even gave the entire company three days off.

Sitting at my desk, I thought about it for a long time.

He was the owner of the company, yet there he was, acting like he was afraid I might leave.

Was he really that desperate to keep me?

The office was buzzing with shockwaves. Edmund Lynch, the boss, had just dropped a bombshell.

[Clock out, and take an extra three days off.]

"Is Mr. Lynch off his rocker?" Janice Carter, my desk neighbor, could not stop refreshing her phone.

I clutched my phone, my mind a whirlwind of confusion.

What about the vacation days I had earned by quitting?

Was that just my rotten luck? I could not help but think.

"The economy's tanking. Maybe Mr. Lynch can't afford our paychecks anymore, and this is his way of feeling us out?"

"It's got to be a prelude to layoffs!"

"You got it. I was in his office with a proposal today, and layoffs were all he talked about. Looks like it's a done deal!"

...

A chill ran through me.

If they were cutting jobs, I could have cashed in on a sweet severance deal!

Could I still pull back my resignation? I wondered silently.

…

Too late or not, I found myself in Edmund's office.

I should not be thinking that, but the man was a looker.

Broad shoulders.

Narrow waist.

His backside...

Did not get a glimpse of it today.

However, from what I had seen before, it would probably feel nice to the touch.

"Ahem."

His cough snapped me back to the present.

"Need something?"

Edmund did not even glance up, just kept thumbing through his papers.

I buttered him up a bit, "Mr. Lynch, about the letter I submitted today, did you get a chance to look at it..."

"I did." His voice was cool, the words slipping out effortlessly.

I was on edge, but tried to keep it cool. "I was just thinking..."

"Thinking what?" He snapped the file shut and straightened the gold-rimmed glasses I had not noticed before.

He was quick to respond.

Obviously, I was thinking about pulling my resignation.

He would do the layoffs, and then I would walk away with a hefty severance check! Could I really be daydreaming about how rock-hard your abs are under that shirt, or how your backside seems to