05. Indigestible Revelation

"Mariana?"

The girl takes her eyes off the computer screen and looks at her colleague, Ruth, who holds a clipboard in her hands.

"Mr. Jones wants to talk to you."

The girl snorts audibly.

"Really? What does he want?"

"I don't know. But he asked me to give you this message. After office hours, stop by his office a little bit."

"Sure. Thanks, Ruth."

The woman leaves to take care of her own business. Mariana tries to concentrate on the work in front of her, but can't.

What did her boss want? Ever since she arrived in town and got the job, modesty aside, she was the most competent employee in that office. She was always on time, and when necessary, she stayed late to help another employee.

Irritated, the woman frowned and grumbled:

"This better be a promotion opportunity."

When finally the digital clock on her desk showed her the time to leave, Mariana finished her activities, put on her coat, grabbed her purse, and instead of going straight home and taking a nice shower, she walked with quick steps to her boss's office.

The first and last time she was there was to, with tears in her eyes, beg for a job. Mariana had not always been a housewife: she had taken courses before her failed marriage, and did well with spreadsheets and forms.

After taking a test so they could see how well she could do, Mariana was hired. This saved her from further humiliation and emotional appeals at other companies, since she desperately needed a job.

Upon arriving at the mahogany door of the president's office, Mariana felt a slight discomfort. But since she had been nauseous for a while, it didn't make that much difference anymore.

She knocked three times on the door and waited patiently for her boss to open it.

"Hello, Mariana, thank you for coming," he said as he answered.

Mr. Jones' room still looked the same: the same smell of coffee with touches of cigarette, slightly dirty black curtains that made Mariana sneeze the first time she was there, the same desk filled with notepads and uncapped pens...

"Have a seat, please."

She does as he asks. Mariana's boss sits down in his own chair, interlaces his hands and says bluntly:

"Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?"

The woman looks a little in shock. Before she can answer, he continues:

"We know how dedicated you have been to the job, Mariana, and you have always been an exemplary employee. But as a boss, I need to be informed about significant events in the lives of my employees. Finding out about your pregnancy through a third party is not the ideal way for us to handle this situation."

Mariana feels a mixture of surprise and annoyance at her boss' direct approach. She gathers her thoughts and responds calmly:

"I'm sorry, Mr. Jones. I had no intention of concealing my pregnancy, but I didn't think it was relevant information for work either. Besides, I was still in the early stages of pregnancy and wanted to make sure everything was okay before sharing."

The boss nods, showing understanding, but still with a serious expression on his face.

"I understand your perspective, Mariana. However, as the leader of the team, it is important that I am aware of these situations to ensure a proper working environment and so that we can make appropriate adjustments if necessary."

The tall man with dark, curly hair and green eyes stands. He grabs a coffee from his personal machine. Word around the halls was that the boss was really addicted, and if he went twenty-four hours without coffee, he became irritable and had many other real withdrawal symptoms.

"I don't want to sound rude, Mariana, but it was already obvious to many. The baggy clothes, the nausea, the vomiting every three hours. And also-"

The girl is frowning. Mr. Jones notices her looking at the coffee cup in the man's hand.

"I'm sorry. Is that smell making you nauseous?"

Ungraciously, the girl nods her head in the affirmative.

"Well, that's baffling. I think it would be more prudent to consider some things, you know. About your job."

Mariana realizes that she may not have fully considered the consequences of her choice not to inform him in advance about her pregnancy. Would he fire her?

The woman needs to take some air before she forces naturalness and calmness, at least as far as possible.

"I understand, Mr. Jones, and I apologize again for the lack of communication. I would like to assure you that I will continue to dedicate myself to the job to the best of my ability, and I am willing to discuss any necessary adjustments during my pregnancy to ensure the team's productivity."

Mariana takes a deep breath and tries not to think about vomiting. She is used to the smell of coffee, but somehow, at that moment, it seems unbearable. She looks at her boss and forces a smile.

"Are you okay?" he asks, turning around and walking over to her, resting his hand on her shoulder in a friendly manner.

"Everything's fine, Mr. Jones. Just a little queasy, but I'll be fine."

The boss looks relieved at the answer and continues:

"I understand that it may be a delicate time, but I want you to know that we are here to support you. If you need anything, don't hesitate to talk to me or HR."

"Of course, Mr. Jones. Thank you for speaking with me."

"Let's discuss some details about your workload, time off scheme, maternity leave... And by the way, please, I know that you like to stay after hours to help others. I don't think I need to tell you why that is no longer an option.

"No, sir."

She takes a deep breath. The craving to vomit is getting worse and worse.

Mariana needs to get out of there before...

"Tomorrow we can discuss this more calmly. I hope your pregnancy will be smooth and-"

The girl's boss stops talking immediately.

Because, in an uncontrollable burst, Mariana vomited...

Right on the man's expensive suit.