"I have a meeting with Mr. McAllister" you answer in a deeply uninterested voice.
"Well THAT doesn't sound good." she snickers. "I heard that someone is getting canned today." She looks at you pryingly, looking for some reaction that might give something away.
You remain facing forward. You can feel her beedy little eyes burrowing into the back of your head. Scrutinizing you for any movement, any sound, any reaction that might give her some fodder to take back to the office with her. You can feel the color drain from your face as a sick feeling swamps your gut. You take a deep breath....slowly so as to not alert Susan of your sudden anxiety.
"I guess we will know soon enough!" She snaps as the elevator doors open in front of you. You pry your feet from their seemingly cemented position on the floor and step out over the little gap between the safety of the elevator and the lion's den.
You don't even acknowledge her comment with a reply although the truth of it rings in your ears. You peek over your shoulder just enough to see Susan. She cocks her head to one side in a mock sympathy pose and waves at you with a childlike drumming of her fingers. She inaudibly mouths "good luck". Your stomach flips and flops like a dying fish as you walk down the corridor to Mr. McAllister's office. You pause outside the office, collecting yourself before rapping on the door. "Here goes nothing" you whisper to yourself.
You knock lightly on the door, hoping maybe he won't hear it.