Page 2 of A Small Town Risk

You fuck! I’ve been here two years working my ass off, and because I won’t have sex with him, I don’t get to advance.

I step forward and place my hands on his desk. Lean in. “I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on earth. And what about your wife, huh? You make me sick.” I wheel sharply, march to the door, pull it open, and turn. “By the way…I quit.”

I slam the door with a bang and ignore everyone watching. Trudge back to the elevator, Jimmy Choo’s clacking, and stab the button. Whispers behind me, but I don’t look. A ding and a swish, and the doors slide apart. I step in, punch down, and descend to where all the associates work.

I head straight to my desk, staring at the floor. I shove everything into my bag that’ll fit.

“How did it go?” Ann asks. She belongs to the small group of my friends here.

“Bet she got it.” That’s Gerald, my other friend. “She was a shoo-in.”

He’s right. I was a shoo-in––at least I thought I was.

“How did the meeting go, Parker?” Oh, Tiffany. You…

She knows how the meeting went. She’s probably ready to leave right now to meet Mr. Clarke at Sammy’s.

I speak so everyone can hear. “I did not get the promotion, ladies and gentlemen. I was unwilling to get down on my knees and suck his teeny, tiny dick.” I hold Tiffany’s gaze. “Not like someone I know. Congratulations on the promotion. I’m sure you’re qualified.”

“You bitch!”

“Better a bitch than a whore.”

Tiffany gasps and makes a fist. Come on, do it. Do it.

She doesn’t. Just wheels around and dashes off.

“Sorry you didn’t get it,” Ann says. “Maybe next time.”

“Next time?” I repeat. “No. I’m done!”

And with that, I leave with my chin up.

I’m trembling as I arrive at the garage and crawl into my truck.

What did I just do? I can’t believe I quit.

I slam my head against the steering wheel. “Ouch!” That was stupid. I rub it and check my forehead in the rearview. Not noticeable. I take several calming breaths and then jam my fist into my mouth. Another mistake. How many am I allowed in one day?

I relax in my seat, wondering what to do because I clearly didn’t think this through. But I couldn’t take it anymore and had to let it out. Now I need a job, and good luck with that because there will be no reference from Dallas Designs after this incident. I shouldn’t have said anything about the boss’s wife. I was projecting a little.

I grab tissues from the glove box, blow my nose, and dry my eyes.

God, how could this happen?

I start my truck and drive out of the parking garage. By the time I get home, I’m feeling better.

I drop my bag on the island, snatch a water bottle from the fridge, and plod over to my couch. Grab my phone and make a call. It’s time. I need a change, and nothing is keeping me here.

CHAPTER TWO

RYAN

I order three Flame Thrower burritos and a Coke from Samuel’s brightly painted food truck and drive to the edge of town, parking in a driveway at the apex of a hill. This way, oncoming traffic can see me from either direction, and they’ll slow down. Pretty simple.

I swallow the last bite of my burrito, wiping sweat from my brow and the tear from my eye.God, that is hot.

While sipping my soda, I observe the flow of traffic and exchange waves and nods with travelers. I glance down the road to my right and see a green blur passing vehicles. I ready the speed gun, and when he blows past, I clock him at nineteen miles an hour over the limit.

---