106. Hannah

ONE HUNDRED SIX

BB Wolf: Have a nice Friday, Little Bunny.

Me: Thanks, in the elevator now.

Me: What are your plans for the day?

BB Wolf: Hitting the weight room with Max and his housemates this morning. Prepare yourself for my eventual death.

Me: Maybe remember that you're retired and you have nothing to prove.

BB Wolf: Never. I'd rather die in my hotel than accept defeat.

Me: This is why women live longer.

BB Wolf: Maybe. But also, I think nature knew we wouldn't be able to survive without our women, and that's why you live longer.

Me: I don't know how you can be so sweet and so stupid at the same time.

BB Wolf: It's one of my many talents.

The elevator doors slide open, and I smile as I step off onto my floor, typing the last text while I walk toward my office.

Me: I'm at the office. Please try not to die today.

Slipping my phone into my purse, I return hellos as I walk down the hall.

It's only been a few days since I saw Maddox.

Since the dinner.

Since we fell asleep together in my small bed.

Since I woke up alone.

Just a few days, but still far too long.

When I first found out Maddox was the new owner, all I wanted was for him not to be in the office. But now I dread the days he's not here.

I drop all my stuff on my desk and turn back around, heading to the break room.

I didn't bring lunch today, figured I'd eat my feelings with some takeout, but I still need my coffee.

Donut Guy is in his usual spot, but other than him, the room is empty.

Maddox has made me coffee a few times, and it's always been in the same handmade mug, so I select that one from the cupboard and set it on the counter.

I pour my coffee, then turn to get my creamer from the fridge and jump.

Brandon is there. Standing at the fridge, his cotton candy drink in hand.

"Oh, hey, Brandon." I press my hand over my heart. "You startled me."

"Oops." His tone is flat, and instead of saying more— bothering me like he usually does— he turns and walks toward the door.

Well, that was uncomfortable.

The part of me controlled by society feels a little bad about telling him I have a boyfriend. But the rest of me realizes that's fucking nonsense.

He's done nothing to be considerate of my boundaries.

He's never taken one single hint that I'm not interested.

He's pushed himself into my space more times than I can count.

He's been a constant annoyance and, worse than that, a threat since I started. Because women in the workplace are so easily labeled as difficult to work with. We're chastised for being too sensitive when a man says something grossly offensive and inappropriate to us. We're meant to laugh with them when they make derogatory comments about other women in front of us. We're supposed to put up with so much motherfucking shit from men and not do anything about it for fear of losing our jobs. All while the worst men can't rub two brain cells together to consider that maybe they're the hard ones to work with. That maybe they need to take a moment to think before they speak. Their egos are the largest hindrance to progress. That maybe their biggest worry is absolutely trivial compared to our biggest worries.

I heave out a breath and remind myself I won't stay here much longer.

Brandon's behavior didn't really get any worse after Maddox bought the company; it's just that Maddox is everything Brandon isn't. And it shows just how predatory Brandon has been.

Pulling my half-and-half out of the fridge, I turn toward my coffee.

Toward my memories of Maddox.

Toward thoughts of a man who respects women.

And I forget all about Brandon and his hurt little feelings.