Page 4 of Office Hate

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I squeezed the Evian bottle with my right hand, condensation dripping down the sides.

He’d lucked out.

He had gotten the easy job.

The one where he could probably eat at his desk and spike his own coffee and nobody would so much as blink, whereas I—

I adjusted my Spanx—again. And tried to take a deep breath. I had to wear black every day, and unfortunately for me, all my black dresses were a bit too small.

I blamed being single and using my parents’ Netflix and their Postmates account to deliver food, but really, I was stuck in a rut. I knew it. My friend Amelia knew it. It was just, this was not how I saw my life going.

I was driven.

And I knew that I was even overqualified at times, but the best jobs were going to people with experience or master’s degrees. Nobody really cared about a business major and how good her grades had been through all four years of studying.

If anything, my lack of experience worked harder against me than if I had failed all my classes.

A little growl escaped my lips when Mark’s truck disappeared down the street. He was probably getting out early so he could hang out with friends, which he still had because he got off on time. Meanwhile, I hadn’t seen Amelia since last weekend, and even then, she was acting like something was wrong and kept checking her phone. She finally came up with this lame-ass excuse of not feeling well and left me alone at the bar to fend for myself.

Well, I guess I wasn’t totally by myself since Mark had stopped by to punish me with his good looks, killer smile, and all-around annoying presence.

“This seat taken?” He’d grinned.

I glared. “It was.”

“Hmm, looks empty, feels empty, seems like you’re all by yourself, Olive.”

“Don’t call me Olive. It’s not my name. Amelia just left because she didn’t feel good and—”

His expression darkened. “Let me guess she suddenly came down with something, oh… say around two minutes ago?”

“Yes.” How did he know?

His eyes pierced through mine as a slow lazy smile appeared across his face. “Interesting…”

“What is?”

“Nothing…” he said slowly as he reached over and downed the rest of my beer, setting an empty glass back in front of me. “See ya around, Olive.”

I swear I was shaking by the time he sauntered off.

My heart pounded against my ribs.

And for whatever reason, I wanted to run after him, climb his body like a tree, then wrap my legs around his waist. It would be a moment of pure sexual need fulfillment followed by his death.

I’d black widow him.

But I’d at least I’d know what all the fuss was about.

Nobody was that good at sex. Nobody.

“Olivia!” My boss Mathew came jogging down the hall in his perfect black suit with his dark hair swept to the side and his tanned skin glowing like he’d just got back from the beach. Could his sparkling white teeth be any more capped?

“Yes?” I met his gaze.

He was in his late thirties, had two kids, and a wife who was a walking poster for fillers. To this day, I still had no clue if she was older or younger than him.

“Glad I caught you before you left…” He motioned me into the downstairs finance office; it was empty as he led me toward the large wooden desk.

He sat in the chair behind the desk and smiled. “You’ve been doing a really good job, Olivia.”

“Wow, thank you.” I beamed, glad he appreciated all the little extra things I’d been doing around the place. Whether it be making sure the snack section of the waiting room was constantly full or water bottles handed out to the sales floor when it was hot, but I’d been trying.

“In fact—” He stood abruptly and moved behind me to close the one massive blind that overlooked the sales floor. “—I have a proposition for you…”

Proposition almost sounded like promotion! I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but I sat straighter in my chair, my lips parting ready to accept, when I felt his hand touch the back of my neck as he leaned down behind me and whispered, “You want to move up the ladder…” He tugged a wisp of my hair as goosebumps of terror rose over my body. “Nobody has to know what you did to get the next opening in marketing…besides, most everyone’s gone home.” He moved to face me. His gross smile widened like I’d already given in when I was too busy freaking out and looking for an exit.

I slowly stood. “I’m not into doing sexual favors for a promotion, Mathew. Especially considering you’re married.”

“Oh, that.” He waved his hand dismissively, a bored expression on his face. “We have an open marriage. Very open.”

Disgusting. “Good for you.” I eased from my chair to the door and pushed it open a crack.


Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Romance