Back To You | complete

Chapter 28| Not Hiding No More

Chapter twenty-eight: Not hiding no more

O L I V I A

The car slowed to a stop and I took deep breaths to calm my nerves.

"You good?" Kai asked from the driver's seat. I managed a nod. "They probably don't even know, Livvy."

The read count on the blog flashed before my eyes and I pushed the image out of my mind.

"I've worked here for almost a year," I said steadily. "Trust me when I say that I know the place and the people. They know."

"Well," he grimaced, "I'm sure your friends will be supportive."

"Yeah," I murmured, looking out at employees walking into the building. I glanced at the clock. "I should get going."

"Okay." He sighed. "Call me or text me if it gets too bad."

"Hmm," I agreed half-heartedly, unlocking my door.

He leaned over and kissed the corner of my mouth. "Have a good day."

"You too," I replied, kissing him back before I stepped out. I closed the door behind me and Kai smiled at me reassuringly through the window. I managed a smile back before I made my way in.

My eyes would either eye the worn-out floors of the InfoTech, or they would admire the hairstyle of the person right in front of me. It was an effort to not let my eyes wander aimlessly and to not accidentally pay attention to my peripheral vision.

The company wasn't the best, but despite having graduated with honors, I had not scored a job at a better company. I didn't know where I'd gone wrong. All I knew was that I was working in a start-up company that had been around for a decade, hired unemployed people and overworked them, had cruel people in power, and underpaid employees.

Maybe I was exaggerating . . . the job did help me keep the lights on. Hun. I didn't even know anymore. I shook my head and focused back on the present. I had to go up to my floor.

The elevator looked daunting with all those people in there so I made a last-minute decision and decided to take the stairs. Let me tell you, not a good choice. Why? One, I was as healthy as a sick chihuahua, and two, my heels weren't doing me any favors.

I had blisters forming by the time I made it to my seat. I knew they were bad cause they made me limp and want to cry with every step. But they were good because they kept my attention off those stares and focused on walking in a straight line and not appearing drunk.

I had come earlier than usual to avoid the last-minute rush of people streaming in to make it on time, and so Brian and Jane were yet to arrive. I pushed my way into our cabin and plopped down on the chair, dropping my purse on the ground. My table was a mess as usual. I expected it to have a layer of dust from three days' inactivity, but it was surprisingly clean.

I booted my computers while I made a weak attempt at cleaning my table to have space for desk work. I didn't notice the papers and envelopes until too late.

To,
Olivia Davis.

They weren't signed. They were just . . . there. I curiously opened the envelope first, kicking off my heels to make myself comfortable. I leaned back in my chair and fished out the contents of the envelope, placing them out on the table.

They were a bunch of printouts of articles and a few newspaper clippings. I blanched when I realized that they were about. The blood drained out of my face at the additional side notes on the edges. There were circles drawn around words to emphasize them. Some of them were gentle since they were censored by the publication houses. Others, probably from fan blogs, were brutal and made my eyes prickle with the intensity of their hatred.