Your Voice
Dylan.
“Mr Watkins office, how can I help?” I said with a little extra cheer in my voice. It always helped if I answered the phone in an upbeat way.
“Hi, Dylan!” I heard my sister say through the phone and I smiled, still slightly amazed that I was talking to her on the phone. I wondered how long it would take for it to actually sink in that she could pretty much hear again.
“Hi, Gem, what’s up?” I asked her as I skimmed through my unopened emails, keeping an eye out for anything majorly important.
“Nothing, just figured I’d see how your day is going,” she said happily and I smiled and sat back in my chair to give her my full attention.
“It’s good,” I smiled. “John is in a meeting at the moment so it’s kinda quiet. You called at a good time.”
“Oh, cool,” she said and I smiled.
“How’s the first day of school?” I asked her. It was pretty hard to believe Gemma had officially started year 12 now. Just two more years and then she would be finished with school. Then she would be going to university. The thought was kind of terrifying… God knows what she’d get up to at university.
“It’s good,” she said. “I’m in a free period now. But it’s been pretty dull so far, just dived straight into lessons. It’s like teachers don’t realise we need to be eased back in to learning.” I chuckled at her and shook my head.
“Oh, I feel so bad for you,” I teased her and I heard her huff.
“Shut up,” she said and I laughed again.
“I’m gonna be home a bit earlier tonight, so I can actually pick you up from school. We could pick up a take away to celebrate the first day of school?” I asked, already craving Chinese.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” she smiled. Usually, I didn’t get back from work until about 7.30-8 ish, but John was leaving early today for a personal event so he told me I could skip out too. Whenever I got home before 5 was pretty exciting, to be honest. That sounds kinda sad… “I’m going to be knackered tonight,” she said and I considered teasing her again, but decided against it. Gemma usually did the cooking in the evenings during the week. It was just how we worked – I did the shopping at the weekends and she did the cooking during the week. She usually ate before I got home, but made me a plate ready to be heated up. At the weekend we usually cooked together or took it in turns.
“Great,” I said, “have a think of what you fancy and text me later.”
“Will do,” she smiled. “I better get on with the mountain of work the teachers have already set…”
“Good idea,” I smiled. “See you later.”
“Bye,” she said before ending the call. I set the phone back down, but only a few minutes later it rang again. I answered the call and took a message to pass along about John’s dental appointment being changed, and then got on with proof reading a contract that he’d drafted.
Working for John Watkins was pretty nice, really. He was in his late 20s and was a friendly, chatty guy. I was pretty sure he was gay, due to the number of times he’d told me that if a guy called Mark ever phoned, to put him straight through. But I wasn’t in the position to ask and nor was he in the position to tell me. I sometimes wished we could be friends but we had a professional relationship and that was all. And, to be honest, I didn’t really have the time for anything more. The good thing about working for John was that, while he required that I work 9-5, he didn’t need any more than that. Once I’d left the building, I could turn my priorities elsewhere.
Sometimes during the work day I’d sneakily do some reading for an essay or an exam, but never for more than 15-20 minutes. I didn’t feel right spending my work time on university stuff. Each of my responsibilities had a time and a place – work during the day, spend time with Gemma in the evening, university during the night. It was amazing I ever ate or slept. Somehow I’d managed to keep myself healthy, though God only knows how. Occasionally, John caught me doing university work at my desk, and he’d even ask what I was doing, but he’d not once warned me against focusing on something other than being his assistant. He knew I was attending university part time – he’d even given me the occasional afternoon off if I’d needed to attend the odd lecture – and he never got angry if that sometimes overlapped with my work. I was grateful that I had a boss like John, who understood everything I was trying to juggle, and I think that’s why Phil had suggested I work for him.
When John got back from his meeting, I gave him his 3 messages – dentist, Mr Simmons – his boss – and Mark – who earned a soft smile. Whenever Mark phoned, which was fairly often, I couldn’t help but smile. He seemed like a really nice guy, if the brief conversations I’d had with him were anything to go by. I’d never met him in person as he never visited the office and John didn’t have any photos on his desk that gave anything away. Sometimes I just wanted to outright ask, but I couldn’t for a variety of reasons. Firstly, John was my boss. Secondly, it was kinda rude to just ask about someone’s love life. I didn’t think John would fire me for being nosy, but I didn’t want to risk it.
“Hey, Dylan,” a voice to my right said and I grimaced to myself before turning to the source.
“Hi, Grant,” I said with a tight smile. I tried to be polite to everyone in the office, but the number of times Grant had hit on me was just too awkward. I’d made it perfectly clear I wasn’t interested but clearly he didn’t take the hint. Or just chose to ignore it completely.
“How are you today?” he asked, leaning against my desk and blocking my view of my computer screen.
“Not bad,” I said. “And you?”
“Could be better,” he said with a shrug. I knew he wanted me to ask why, but I wasn’t going to. I didn’t want to start a conversation with this guy, especially one that could lead to him shamelessly flirting.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” I said, secretly praying for the phone to ring.
“Yeah, so how about we-“
“Dylan, can I see you for a moment?” John called out from his office. My desk was directly outside his office door so he didn’t need to shout loudly to get my attention, though he could also use the desk-to-desk intercom. I shot Grant a weak smile as I rose from my desk and headed into Dylan’s office, closing the door behind me. I glanced through the glass and was relieved to see Grant wandering back to his own desk. I turned my attention to John and waited for whatever he had to say. “I think it’s safe for you to go back to your desk now,” John said, shooting me a grin. I smiled back at him gratefully. John knew about Grant and his wishes, but he’d never directly acknowledged it before.
“Thanks,” I said.
“You know, if it’s a real problem, you could always make a formal report,” John said. “Sexual harassment.”
“Thanks, but I don’t really want to make it a big thing,” I said. “I can deal with it. I’ve been dealing with it for 2 years, I’m pretty good at it now.” John looked at me for a moment before smiling and nodding.
“Fair enough,” he said. “And thanks for the notes on that contract. Good job.”
“No problem,” I smiled as I went back to my desk.
I flicked through the new emails I’d received since Grant had come to my desk and replied to a couple that regarded John’s appointments. I had a hard copy of his calendar on my desk which I added to, along with an electronic copy that was permanently open on my desktop and could be viewed by both of us, so that John added to if he’d made himself any appointments. I forwarded a few emails to John that needed his direct response and then organised the transport that he’d requested for this evening.
At 2 o’clock, John locked his office as he left and told me I could head out too. It was strange leaving so soon after lunch, but no way was I going to complain. I shut down my computer and grabbed my bag. I swiped my ID card as I left the building to sign out and then headed to the train station. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been home in time to pick Gemma up from school. At the start, when Gemma had been in year 9 and 10, I had insisted on it and John had been very gracious about my coming in half an hour late and leaving a hour early, but I decided that at 16, Gemma could walk the half hour walk home. I didn’t like it, not one bit, but I couldn’t really do anything about it. I got on the train, already looking forward to sitting down with Gemma, watching a movie and eating Chinese food.
“Hi, Dylan!” I heard my sister say through the phone and I smiled, still slightly amazed that I was talking to her on the phone. I wondered how long it would take for it to actually sink in that she could pretty much hear again.
“Hi, Gem, what’s up?” I asked her as I skimmed through my unopened emails, keeping an eye out for anything majorly important.
“Nothing, just figured I’d see how your day is going,” she said happily and I smiled and sat back in my chair to give her my full attention.
“It’s good,” I smiled. “John is in a meeting at the moment so it’s kinda quiet. You called at a good time.”
“Oh, cool,” she said and I smiled.
“How’s the first day of school?” I asked her. It was pretty hard to believe Gemma had officially started year 12 now. Just two more years and then she would be finished with school. Then she would be going to university. The thought was kind of terrifying… God knows what she’d get up to at university.
“It’s good,” she said. “I’m in a free period now. But it’s been pretty dull so far, just dived straight into lessons. It’s like teachers don’t realise we need to be eased back in to learning.” I chuckled at her and shook my head.
“Oh, I feel so bad for you,” I teased her and I heard her huff.
“Shut up,” she said and I laughed again.
“I’m gonna be home a bit earlier tonight, so I can actually pick you up from school. We could pick up a take away to celebrate the first day of school?” I asked, already craving Chinese.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” she smiled. Usually, I didn’t get back from work until about 7.30-8 ish, but John was leaving early today for a personal event so he told me I could skip out too. Whenever I got home before 5 was pretty exciting, to be honest. That sounds kinda sad… “I’m going to be knackered tonight,” she said and I considered teasing her again, but decided against it. Gemma usually did the cooking in the evenings during the week. It was just how we worked – I did the shopping at the weekends and she did the cooking during the week. She usually ate before I got home, but made me a plate ready to be heated up. At the weekend we usually cooked together or took it in turns.
“Great,” I said, “have a think of what you fancy and text me later.”
“Will do,” she smiled. “I better get on with the mountain of work the teachers have already set…”
“Good idea,” I smiled. “See you later.”
“Bye,” she said before ending the call. I set the phone back down, but only a few minutes later it rang again. I answered the call and took a message to pass along about John’s dental appointment being changed, and then got on with proof reading a contract that he’d drafted.
Working for John Watkins was pretty nice, really. He was in his late 20s and was a friendly, chatty guy. I was pretty sure he was gay, due to the number of times he’d told me that if a guy called Mark ever phoned, to put him straight through. But I wasn’t in the position to ask and nor was he in the position to tell me. I sometimes wished we could be friends but we had a professional relationship and that was all. And, to be honest, I didn’t really have the time for anything more. The good thing about working for John was that, while he required that I work 9-5, he didn’t need any more than that. Once I’d left the building, I could turn my priorities elsewhere.
Sometimes during the work day I’d sneakily do some reading for an essay or an exam, but never for more than 15-20 minutes. I didn’t feel right spending my work time on university stuff. Each of my responsibilities had a time and a place – work during the day, spend time with Gemma in the evening, university during the night. It was amazing I ever ate or slept. Somehow I’d managed to keep myself healthy, though God only knows how. Occasionally, John caught me doing university work at my desk, and he’d even ask what I was doing, but he’d not once warned me against focusing on something other than being his assistant. He knew I was attending university part time – he’d even given me the occasional afternoon off if I’d needed to attend the odd lecture – and he never got angry if that sometimes overlapped with my work. I was grateful that I had a boss like John, who understood everything I was trying to juggle, and I think that’s why Phil had suggested I work for him.
When John got back from his meeting, I gave him his 3 messages – dentist, Mr Simmons – his boss – and Mark – who earned a soft smile. Whenever Mark phoned, which was fairly often, I couldn’t help but smile. He seemed like a really nice guy, if the brief conversations I’d had with him were anything to go by. I’d never met him in person as he never visited the office and John didn’t have any photos on his desk that gave anything away. Sometimes I just wanted to outright ask, but I couldn’t for a variety of reasons. Firstly, John was my boss. Secondly, it was kinda rude to just ask about someone’s love life. I didn’t think John would fire me for being nosy, but I didn’t want to risk it.
“Hey, Dylan,” a voice to my right said and I grimaced to myself before turning to the source.
“Hi, Grant,” I said with a tight smile. I tried to be polite to everyone in the office, but the number of times Grant had hit on me was just too awkward. I’d made it perfectly clear I wasn’t interested but clearly he didn’t take the hint. Or just chose to ignore it completely.
“How are you today?” he asked, leaning against my desk and blocking my view of my computer screen.
“Not bad,” I said. “And you?”
“Could be better,” he said with a shrug. I knew he wanted me to ask why, but I wasn’t going to. I didn’t want to start a conversation with this guy, especially one that could lead to him shamelessly flirting.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” I said, secretly praying for the phone to ring.
“Yeah, so how about we-“
“Dylan, can I see you for a moment?” John called out from his office. My desk was directly outside his office door so he didn’t need to shout loudly to get my attention, though he could also use the desk-to-desk intercom. I shot Grant a weak smile as I rose from my desk and headed into Dylan’s office, closing the door behind me. I glanced through the glass and was relieved to see Grant wandering back to his own desk. I turned my attention to John and waited for whatever he had to say. “I think it’s safe for you to go back to your desk now,” John said, shooting me a grin. I smiled back at him gratefully. John knew about Grant and his wishes, but he’d never directly acknowledged it before.
“Thanks,” I said.
“You know, if it’s a real problem, you could always make a formal report,” John said. “Sexual harassment.”
“Thanks, but I don’t really want to make it a big thing,” I said. “I can deal with it. I’ve been dealing with it for 2 years, I’m pretty good at it now.” John looked at me for a moment before smiling and nodding.
“Fair enough,” he said. “And thanks for the notes on that contract. Good job.”
“No problem,” I smiled as I went back to my desk.
I flicked through the new emails I’d received since Grant had come to my desk and replied to a couple that regarded John’s appointments. I had a hard copy of his calendar on my desk which I added to, along with an electronic copy that was permanently open on my desktop and could be viewed by both of us, so that John added to if he’d made himself any appointments. I forwarded a few emails to John that needed his direct response and then organised the transport that he’d requested for this evening.
At 2 o’clock, John locked his office as he left and told me I could head out too. It was strange leaving so soon after lunch, but no way was I going to complain. I shut down my computer and grabbed my bag. I swiped my ID card as I left the building to sign out and then headed to the train station. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been home in time to pick Gemma up from school. At the start, when Gemma had been in year 9 and 10, I had insisted on it and John had been very gracious about my coming in half an hour late and leaving a hour early, but I decided that at 16, Gemma could walk the half hour walk home. I didn’t like it, not one bit, but I couldn’t really do anything about it. I got on the train, already looking forward to sitting down with Gemma, watching a movie and eating Chinese food.
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thanks for the comments and recs! :)