Priya: Tell me you survived the Ice King today.
Jo: If he breathed in your direction I want details.
Dani:If he fired you, move in with me, but you’re paying in gossip.
I snort, because they know me too well, and I type with one hand while I stir pasta with the other.
Me:Survived. Barely. Also, I told him to approve my overtime and he did.
Three dots pop up.
Priya: I’m sorry, you WHAT?
Jo: Queen behavior.
Dani: Did he glare?
Priya: Did he punish?
Jo: Did he spank?
Dani: I’m asking respectfully, Lila.
I laugh, and it shakes something loose in my chest.
Me: He didn’t spank me, you animals.
Me: He just stared, then agreed, then walked away like he didn’t just acknowledge I’m a person.
Jo: That’s foreplay for him.
Priya: He’s gonna ruin you.
Dani: He’s already ruining her, we’re just waiting for the paperwork.
I drain the pasta, dump sauce from a jar, and eat standing up, because I’m too tired to sit and the couch looks like it would swallow me whole.
Then I open a bottle of cheap wine.
One glass becomes two, and two becomes three, because wine is cheaper than therapy and easier than pretending I’m not lonely.
By the third glass, the edges of the day soften, and my brain gets brave in the way it only gets when I’m off the clock and slightly buzzed.
I kick off my blazer and toss it over the chair, and I unbutton the top of my blouse, because breathing is nice.
I catch my reflection in the microwave door, and I pause.
Warm brown skin. Curly hair pulled into a messy bun. Hazel eyes with mascara I haven’t taken off yet. Full mouth. Full body.
Curves that don’t disappear just because someone in HR prefers women shaped like coat hangers.
I set my glass down, and I stare at myself like I’m seeing the problem and the potential at the same time.
Then my phone buzzes again.
Jo: I’m bored. Send something scandalous.
Priya: You won’t.