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THE BULLY'S REGRET 2
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HER BULLY'S REGRET WHAT ABOUT ME?
Carlos puts a drink on the bar, and I snatch it before the Suit can. Victory, I think. And immediately I feel a little stronger, tougher, more formidable. I wonder if this feeling is why men are obsessed with winning. “Hey,” Nathan says, his voice low and stern enough to give a woman fantasies. Not me though. I am fantasy free. “That’s mine,” he says. “No, it’s mine,” I say, taking a swig of coffee. And then I’m coughing and gagging because of how black and bitter it is. No, it’s mine,” I say, taking a swig of coffee. And then I’m coughing and gagging because of how black and bitter it is. So much for the victory tasting sweet. “Never mind,” I croak, as Carlos sets my bagel and coffee on the counter. I pass this coffee to the Suit. “This one’s yours.” He looks down at the lipstick stain on the coffee lid with distaste. Then his phone buzzes, and he swears. He takes the coffee from me, and my stomach does a weird buzzy thing when our fingers touch. Probably leftover adrenaline
HER BULLY'S REGRET STALKING ME
And that gives me enough courage to settle in and fasten my seat belt. “Here’s the thing,” I say. “I’m not getting out. So, we can keep arguing and both be late, or we can stop arguing and both get there on time. Either way, we’re doing it together.” Nathan sizes me up, from my black flats, to my itchy gray suit, to my blond curls tied back in a ponytail, to the mutinous set of my jaw. For the first time all morning, I get the sense that he’s really seeing me. For some reason, the idea makes my pulse speed up. “Are you trying to tell if I’m bluffing?” I ask. “No,” he says shortly. “I don’t gamble.” He leans forward, meeting the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Drop me off first. There’s an extra hundred in it for you.” “Drop me off first,” I say. “Please. I can’t be late. I can give you...” I rack my brains, “a pumpkin spice bagel.” “You’re both going to the same block,” the driver says, in a voice that suggests his day has already been far too long. “Oh.” I hesitate. “D
HER BULLY'S REGRET BORING
It’s distressing that I’ve spent enough time with this man to have a “usual.” My mind flashes to all the stories my parents told me about New York murderers to try to keep me from moving all the way out here after college. They pick a random woman off the street, then follow her, and by the time she realizes there’s something wrong, it’s too late.Granted, most of mom’s horror stories were from the 80s. Except there was that one true-crime podcast last year about the elevator murderer. They never caught him. “You forgot to hit the button for your floor,” I say, my voice coming out squeakily. “Unfortunately for one of us,” he says, “I didn’t.” Jesus fucking Christ. I angered a serial killer by stealing his coffee and now I’m going to die in an office elevator on my first day of work. Is that danger in his eyes? It looks like danger. He definitely looks like he wants to do violence to someone. And I’m the only someone here. Heart pounding, I discreetly slip my hand into my purse
HER BULLY'S REGRET APOLOGY
I stand and leave without bothering to say goodbye.It’s just after 3:00 p.m. when my assistant Lucia steps into the office and coughs discreetly. In one of her many stylishly asymmetrical loose black suits and her signature brunette pixie cut, she In addition to being a flawless administrative assistant, she can get information out of anyone.Also, she’s on my side.Everyone at the company can be divided into basically two camps: the people on my dad’s side, and the people on mine. My side has most of the admin team (since I don’t patronize them), the accounting department (since I care about little things like tax law and financial solvency), and generally all the account managers, copywriters, and project managers who are actually good at their jobs. My dad’s side has the sales team, everyone who likes reminiscing about the good old days more than doing their jobs, and a few ambitious kiss-ups in account management who appreciate how easy my dad is to manipulate. Also weirdly the
HER BULLY'S REGRET GRUMPY
And then Nicole straightens her shoulders, nods, and does what I say.It’s a small victory, but it’s satisfying as fuck.NicoleNathan gestures for me to take a seat so I do, waiting for him to do the same. I can’t tell if the fact that he wants to keep talking means my apology worked...or is about to blow up in my face.I imagine going home to my cat and explaining we have to take him off wet food because Mamma lost another job.I should have adopted a cat with less expensive taste.Instead of sitting down with me, Nathan walks around to my side of the desk and leans back against it, crossing his arms.Oh good. He’s loomer.I can’t tell if it’s a calculated attempt to look more powerful, or if he just has no idea how casually imposing he is. But from this angle he looks impossibly tall. He also ditched the suit jacket sometime in the past few hours, and now he’s got his shirtsleeves rolled up to expose some very nice forearms.Not that I’m looking.I mean, I’m looking at him. But not
HER BULLY'S REGRET NIT PICKER
Nathan studies me, so I study him right back. I feel like I’m out on a ledge. I’venevertold a boss no.Much less a boss like Nathan. His eyes might be the most intense thing I’ve ever seen. Which is weird. They’re just eyes, right?I’m about to blink when he leans back, crossing his arms.“Fine. We’ll limit it toonefavor. Most of this project will happen in the next week. But I may request small additions over the next two months.”That means he’s preparing this secret project for something that will happen in two months. I know I should nod and keep my mouth closed. Maybe I could, with someone else. But I’m weirdly curious about this man. “What happens in two months?”“None of your business,” Nathan says.Fine. If he doesn’t want to tell me, I’ll just ask the other graphic designers.I stand up to go. I need to think. And I can’t seem to think clearly in his presence.“I didn’t say you could go,” Nathan says, and myGodthe man is arrogant.I turn back to him and raise my chin. “You kn
HER BULLY'S REGRET EMOTIONS
I want to groan. This is not what I signed up for when I took this job. I wanted to keep my head down while I saved money and made the connections I’ll need to start my own graphic design business in a year or two.Once I’m working for myself, no one will be able to fire me. No one will be able to make me feel small. No one will be able to make me start over, over and over again.But before I can get to that Someday,I have to choose sides in a corporate power play.I look at the clock. My body tenses at the thought of facing down Nathan again. Even if, this time, we’re going to be on the same team.I check to make sure no one’s paying attention to me, and head to his office.No sense putting off the inevitable.“Come in,”Nathan growls when I open the door.I guess the growling isn’t personal since he has no way of knowing it’s me. Yet.He’s just a grumbly sort of person.And maybe, after the stuff I’ve read about his dad, I understand it a little bit. Imagine having to run a company w
HER BULLY'S REGRET PUBLIC PRESENTATION
I squash the thought and bite my own tongue to re-establish my boundaries. Which means keeping her in the dark as much as possible.“I never said this presentation was for internal use,” I say, misdirecting.Nicole stiffens. “Are you saying this is for a public presentation?”I drink my coffee, impassive.“Why didn’t you tell me that?” she asks, her stress rising exponentially.Her vehemence catches me off guard. Setting aside her occasional flirtation with serial killer fantasies, it seems out of character for her.“It doesn’t change anything,” I hedge.“Of course it changes things,”Nocole says, frustrated. I notice the dark half-moon shadows under her eyes. “If you’re sharing this publicly, it could end up on the internet forever. It could end up with your competition. That shifts us from offense design to defense design, especially if you’re going up against your dad and his cronies.”She half moves to bury her hands in her hair, but she stops and smooths them flat on the table.Wh
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