揟his is my fault, Eliza.?I prop my head on my hand glumly.
You know it抯 bad when godly brownie fumes can抰 dispel bad thoughts.
揘ope, and I don抰 want to hear it again,?she says sharply. 揥hen you抮e under my roof, you don抰 get to beat yourself up.?
揟echnically, we share the same roof.?
揥hatever! You told Jay Fuckboy five million times to leave you alone. He didn抰 listen and got himself in a world of hurt. You aren抰 responsible for how he reacts or the bosshole, either.?
揌ave I been too passive??I ask.
揥hat do you mean?
揑 don抰 even know what I saw in Jay. It was a small town and he was like the first guy who appreciated words to come along and show interest, so I just rolled with it. Somewhere along the line, I got serious and he didn抰。 I never should抳e opened myself up to that abuse. God, I even replied to his weak attempts to make up棓
揥rong. You told him to get lost and blocked his number when he turned into a stalker nut. He could抳e stabbed you, Dakota. What else were you supposed to do? If the guy who won抰 take the hint starts brandishing a knife, that抯 not your fault. Ever.?
I laugh dryly because she抯 too right to argue back.
揥ell, it turned into my problem and someone else抯 by letting it fester. I played along with Lincoln, too, without enough thinking. I just let him sweep me off my feet, and he dropped me like a feather.?
She goes quiet for a minute.
揌e didn抰 give you much choice. What were you supposed to do? Beg him to change his mind in front of everyone you work with? Right after a dude came at you with a knife? Dakota, you抮e not responsible for his stupidity or anyone else抯。？
揌e抯 definitely no Honest Abe.?
揌ave you been to the office since it happened??
I look down at my drink. 揑t was just a couple days ago. I couldn抰 stand showing my face after that. Cheryl had the driver bring me home, thank God. Otherwise, I would抳e been a sobbing mess in front of everyone. Not to mention useless for work. I called in sick.?
揥ill you face it tomorrow??
Ugh, don抰 remind me.
揑 don抰 know that I have a choice. I抳e only worked there a couple months. No huge pools of PTO banked besides what they give you starting out…？
揑t pays more than your last job, right??
What抯 the point? To prove Lincoln may not need me, but I still need him?
揧eah,?I say miserably.
揅ould you ask for a week or two off even if it抯 unpaid??
I hadn抰 thought of that.
揚robably. Since he抯 had me working two full-time jobs, I抳e been making way more than my old salary and working too much to have any time to spend it. I can totally take unpaid time off if they抣l let me.?
揇o it. Use the downtime to hunt for another job. Unless you抮e really okay with going back to work for this guy, forget about the pay. You should have some savings now, so if it doesn抰 pay as much, oh well.?
揟hat抯 a very Eliza solution,?I say glumly.
She抯 good at grabbing life by the horns and shaking it around without getting smashed. I wish I was that bold.
That rock that抯 been sitting in my throat starts choking me, and I blink back tears.
I realize how pathetic I must look moping around like this after a man I never truly had.
The hope that died earlier has turned to dust.
揧ou said his silence could mean anything, right??I ask bitterly.
She nods, sipping her coffee. 揑t could. But if, by some miracle, he realizes he抯 been a blockhead and comes crawling back, and you guys figure your crap out and live happily ever after…is it a good idea to keep working for him? That抯 a ton of pressure.?
I sigh. 揥hat if he ends the radio silence??
She shakes her head like it抯 obvious.
揇akota, if he tries to get in touch, hear him out first梩hat is, if he starts with an apology. And make sure the talk happens on your terms. If you抮e still his employee, it can抰 be equal. Not when he controls your schedule and your income.?
I blink at her. 揗aybe you should give up on coffee and become an advice columnist.?
揘ot on your life. I love the bean too much. Now, are you ready for Dr. Brownie or what??
I let her bring me one of those chocolate monsters and dig into it while I finish my coffee. Panic eating is surprisingly helpful today.
She packs up a few more treats for me to take home. I don抰 argue because they抮e decadent. Heartbreaks are always a sliver less awful with heaps of chocolate.
When I抦 back in my apartment, I sit down in front of my laptop and stare at the screen. I open an email to Anna, close it, and reopen it.
What do I even say?
Dear Anna, I抦 a slutty-slut-slut who slept with her boss and it ended badly, so can I have some time off to process this even if it has to be unpaid?
Yeah, guess how that抣l go over.
If I said I have mono, would she ask for a doctor抯 note?
An informal text seems less daunting and humiliating than an email, I decide.
So I pick up my phone and hit her contact.
Anna, hi. Off the record, if I have mono for a week or two would you ask for a doctor抯 note?
I get up to wash a few dishes and wipe down my stovetop before she replies about twenty minutes later.
Anna: Off the record, how about I give you administrative leave for workplace trauma from being threatened with bodily harm? I抦 sure it qualifies after your boss and some lunatic came to blows in close proximity with a knife. I don抰 see HR turning you down, if only to avoid a lawsuit. She sends a smiley face emoji and a heart for care.
Dakota: I won抰 sue. Don抰 worry.
Anna: Shhh! Don抰 tell anyone that. God, I抦 on your side here. Another smiley face emoji followed by a gif with two big furry monsters hugging. How are you holding up, anyway?
Dakota: Fine, considering the circumstances. Really. Thanks for helping me out with the leave. I抣l let you know in a couple days.
With that, I move to the couch, turn off the alarm on my phone, and switch on Netflix.
Time to chill, and not the kind that involves any moron with a penis.
Job surfing and life can wait.
After a few days of movie binging and pecking at poems with lines so depressing they could win an angst match against a teenager抯 diary, I need to get out.
I抣l be back tomorrow, I text Anna.
Are you sure? she replies later.
I can抰 stay home forever and I want to work. Whatever happened with the big boss shouldn抰 keep me away from helping the main marketing push.
Anna: Okay! I抣l see you tomorrow then. Oh, and of course we抳e shelved those photos for now until we figure something out. So no worries about seeing them.
My throat knots. I抎 half forgotten the pictures where Lincoln and I played at being newlyweds.
God, I hope I can live up to my word, keep my head down, and work without cracking.
The next day, I bike to work like the old days before?
Before.
I stop at Sweeter Grind and order two coffees and Regis rolls.
Just like before.
When I show up, I抣l have the bosshole抯 order, a straight spine, squared shoulders, and a smile so effing bright it could blind the stars.
Lincoln Burns won抰 get the satisfaction of a distraught, emotional mess. I抣l show him just how little power he has over my life.
…only, I find his office locked and the lights off when I show up.
Hmm. I check the time.
I抦 not late. He couldn抰 have left for a meeting already?
Since when is Mr. Stick-Up-the-Ass late?
Whatever. I抦 better off not having to deal with him.