Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
But I sucked it up, as adults often do, and put on a professional face. I returned to work and acted as if nothing happened, respecting Brian’s role as my boss. Unfortunately, he hasn’t granted me the same courtesy. He is constantly making grotesque comments about my body or about making love to me (barf!), and lately he’s been insanely pushy about taking me out on a date.
It’s humiliating and seriously frustrating. I’m afraid to report him for sexual harassment though because I did hook up with him, and I’m pretty sure banging your boss is against Metro’s rules, or at the very least frowned upon.
“Alright Mira, I’ll go to drinks tonight. But I swear to you, if I catch one glimpse of Brian…”
I’m cut off by a voice behind me.
“Careful now ladies, if you say my name three times in a row you might be surprised by what appears,” Brian smirks as he approaches my desk, thrusting his junk forward as he does so.
Unbelievable. He is so disgustingly relentless, but neither of us respond to his inappropriate gesture. The immature turd is looking for a reaction, and we know better than to give him any bait to work with. After a moment of awkward silence, he straightens out his over-priced suit and exerts his power as boss, clearly hurt by our unwillingness to participate in the inflation of his ego... among other body parts.
“Alright ladies, boy-talk time is over. Mira, back to your desk. If you want to earn your keep, then you better get that tail wagging.”
What the hell? What does that even mean? But we have to humor him. With as straight of a face as she can manage, Mira salutes him as if he is an army sergeant and then heads back to her assigned space. I try to quickly begin typing on my computer, hoping that Brian will leave me alone. But to my horror, but not my surprise, he takes Mira’s place on the corner of my desk, oozing oil and slime.
What will it be this time, Brian?
I shudder, hoping for the best but knowing that the worst is coming.
2
Megan
* * *
Brian perches on the corner of my desk, one of his shiny loafers swinging idly. He’s handsome, but there’s so much oil on him everywhere. His hair is overly gelled so that it looks like a grease pit, and his chin and forehead gleam under the fluorescent lights. Not only that, but there’s a cunning glow in his eyes that tells me this is not going to be a pleasant conversation. He’s always harassing me in the office, making sexual innuendos or referencing our GIANT mistake of a night together.
If there was a pill I could slip in Brian’s drink to make him forget, I would give anything in the world to attain it. I’m sure he’d still be annoying, but my quality of life on a daily basis would be so much better without the relentless surge of Brian’s hormones, which unfortunately, are directed at me most days.
He leans forward with his arms folded over his chest. He’s intently watching me, taking his sweet time to share with me why he’s here.
“Good morning, Megan. Is the coffee to your liking today?”
That’s the best he can come up with? He literally just compared his unit to a genie in a bottle, claiming if we say his name three times, it’ll appear. But when it comes to asking about someone else for a change, he’s at a total loss for originality.
“Yes, the coffee is great,” I reply with a fake smile. “It always is Brian, thanks for asking. I don’t mean to be rude, but I have a ton of work to get to today. Unless there is something we need to go over, I would really like to get started.”
“Oh, don’t worry Megan, I’ll be quick,” he remarks, one eyebrow raised in a flirtatious manner. I think the irony of how not appealing that statement is to women is beyond his level of intelligence.
I decide to ignore it and continue trying to end this unpleasant interaction as quickly as possible.
This confrontation is happening, whether I like it or not apparently. So, let him speak, shut it down, and then we can both get on with our separate days.
I roll my chair back away from my computer and face him head on. I have a no-nonsense expression that should head him off. Or at least, I hope it will.
“Okay, what is it?” I ask in a patient voice. “What do I need to do?”
Brian doesn’t even beat around the bush.
“I want to take you out on a date,” he says flatly, and it sounds more like a demand than a question.
Oh, not this again. When will it ever stop?
“Brian, I have asked you before, please only address me with matters related to work. I want to keep things professional. You know this, and we’ve been through it time and time again. I am not going to change my mind, so please stop asking.”