“Diane, Diane, Diane.”
She wanted to disappear, fall right through the ground, vaporize — anything to not have to stand here and listen to him talk. Gritting her teeth, tightly locking her hands together behind her back, she simply smiled back, unsure whether he could even see her face.
Even as he said her name, Nathan, her ex-boyfriend was still looking at the screen. She was standing on the opposite edge of his desk — all two inches of her easily dwarfed by a coffee cup.
“That’s so funny. I could have sworn that the last time we’d met you told me, and I quote, that you never ever wanted to see me again.”
With that, he finally reclined in his chair and looked upon her; their eyes met, and Diane felt color coming to her face. She stoically nodded.
“And now look at you. Standing on my desk.”
He chuckled. She opened her mouth, then closed it wordlessly, since she had nothing to say. It was true. She had spent days thinking about whether she really had to do this. She may have shrunk, but
“Are you saying something? I can’t really hear you. This is at least one reason this size suits you better.”
Once again, he glanced towards his monitor.
“Your resume barely grew in the last couple of years, Diane. Slacking?”
She forced herself to take a step forward.
“Also, for some reason, your credit score is really crappy, Diane. Honestly, we’re seeing that a lot with shrunken women. World isn’t kind to you, I suppose. I empathize.”
He nodded, as if convincing himself that he was, in fact, empathizing. She was suspicious, of course.
“Jobs are hard to come by, you’re neck deep in debt, and have no one to care for you. That about right? Well…”
His voice was like strong liquor; there was a time when she could really get drunk and happy by listening to what he had to say. He was never a bad man, she reminded herself. He’s having a moment of triumph, but he won’t tell her to leave. He’s not like that.
No, if anything Nate was the kind of person to want her around just so that he could rub it in that she was now tiny, helpless and working for him, slaving away as a corporate clerk in a cubicle smaller than a shoebox. She’d just have to swallow her pride.
“…Well, that truly must suck. What kind of a man would I be if I told you to leave this room and never come back?”
She sighed at the barb. Those were her own words when she kicked him out of their joint apartment. She shifted in place. The table was cold under her hosed feet. Diane arrived here wearing heels, but was asked to take them off before they took her in here; something about the boss not wanting the lacquered wood to get scratched up.
“Yeah. I can’t take that away from you, can I? I guess I should give you a job.”
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