Page 18 of The Way You Hurt Me

“That kind of man delegates.” Lucy waves as we pass a slender man, a head shorter than her, with a date at least two feet taller. He waves back enthusiastically. “He’s almost never at the office.”

“Too bad. He’d make for a nice view.”

We’re still chuckling when someone calls her name.

“Lucinda.”

We turn to see a short, stout woman, frowning disapprovingly as she looks between us.

“Miranda.”

“I’d hoped to catch you here,” she sneers. “You have submitted your findings before clocking out, yes?”

Lucy’s jaw tightens. “Naturally.”

“Good, good. Well, don’t enjoy yourself too much.” Her eyes rake over my friend’s lovely dress judgmentally one last time before she walks away.

Suddenly, I see why Lucy had an issue with her dress.

It looks like I’m not the only one with an asshole boss, though Lucy hasn’t yet complained about hers.

“Your supervisor?” I guess. “Dreadful cow.”

She shakes her head. “She’s the head of the admin staff, actually. She’s not quite in my department, but they process our files. She’s higher than me in the hierarchy, but not technically my superior. Though she likes to pretend she is.”

“And she causes you problems,” I guess.

“I don’t know why, but she’s just constantly complaining about the way I submit things, or when I do it. I’ve just started bypassing her office altogether, uploading my own documents directly on the main server. She doesn’t like that one bit, and constantly checks in on my projects like she just did, in front of an audience. I think she’s trying to make it sound like I’m always late to everyone.”

I snort. “I bet. Power-hungry shrew. She’s jealous of you.”

“I…I mean, we’re in vastly different areas. That can’t be it.”

“You’re younger than her, prettier than her, and probably have a better job. More fun, better pay, in all likelihood. Maybe not now, as she’s head of her department, but I’d bet as a researcher, your pay is similar to hers, and it’s your first year. I’d bet on jealousy.”

“I hope that’s not it,” Lucy says. “You’dthinkas some of the only female staff, we’d actually have each other’s back.”

“If only. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of wonderful women, in and out of the workforce. But there are just as many terrible ones. Basically, people, as a general rule, suck, regardless of their genitals.”

“So jaded,” Lucy says, shaking her head. “Let’s see if we can find some optimism at the bottom of another glass of wine.”

Damn. We’ve both already finished our flutes, and we’ve only just stepped into the large, packed hall.

“Doubt it. But I’m happy to check, just in case.”

Another server offers us another drink, and we switch our empty ones out. No one asks for my age, so I don’t have to retrieve my fake ID from my clutch.

“We’re going to get smashed if we aren’t careful.”

“Is it a New Year’s party if we don’t get smashed?” I counter.

“It’s aworkparty,” Lucy retorts. “I have to stay professional.”

That makes complete sense for her. “Good thingIdon’t work here, then. I fully intend to have many of these yummy bubblies.”

I’m true to my word, though I wouldn’t get too drunk—I’m not about to embarrass my friend at a work event. Like so many people, I prefer to spend this time of the year as drunk as possible, given the memories associated with end of December. Besides, in a couple of days, I’ll be in Cali, playing the innocent little sister. I certainly won’t be able to drink my fill at Morgan’s. I may as well have fun while I can.

Lucy and I join her friend Tom from the graphics department, and his fiancée Natasha, a ballet dancer, and we chat over the petit fours, occasionally interrupted by other colleagues we come to greet.

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