The seat of power


Suddenly I’m motivated. I came into work with a spring in my step anticipating all of the tasks I can complete today.

Anne’s off and although I’m loathe to say it, I’m in charge.

Perhaps I really am the company man that Dave the cheeky cockney geezer claimed I was.

I started off the day playing down my elevated status. I was determined not to be corrupted by power.

“Are you in charge then?” Gareth asked sarcastically.

“No. No. No. I’m just a glorified milk monitor. Just making sure that any urgent emails sent to Anne are dealt with,”

I made a point of sitting at my own desk and not in Anne’s office just to emphasise this. My resistance lasted twenty minutes.

Ted walked by as I switched on her PC.

“Making yourself at home?” he asked.

That sort of insolence will be noted on his file


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