Page 47 of Books and Hookups

As I poured myself a cup of disgusting decaf in the breakroom, Mario strode in. He grabbed the pot of regular coffee and sloshed it into his mug.

“We missed you at the morning meeting,” he said. “I assigned you a piece on the protest at City Hall.”

“What are they protesting?” I picked up my phone, trying not to be jealous of his coffee, which must taste fresher than this swill.

“The assault weapons ban.”

I tilted my head. “Hasn’t that been in effect for decades?”

He shrugged. “Guess they still don’t like it. Try to come up with a fresh angle.”

“A fresh angle on something that’s been law since before the internet?”

“I have faith,” he said.

My heart soared at the praise. Until he said the next thing.

“Didn’t you wear that skirt yesterday? Laundry machine broken at your place?” His gaze slid down my body, and heat rushed up my neck.

My crankiness dialed up to eleven when Tad sauntered in, looking not at all sweaty but with dark circles under his eyes. He shuffled to the regular coffee pot.

“Howard literally wears the same mustard-yellow shirt every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday,” I said. “It’s still got the ketchup stain from the hot dog he ate at his desk on Wednesday.”

“Really?” My boss wrinkled his nose. “I never noticed.”

“Maybe I should write an article on the different fashion expectations for women and men in the workplace.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Mario said. “I was expressing concern. You don’t usually look this sloppy.”

“Sloppy?” My face burned. I tugged my black sweater down over the skirt. “I never look sloppy.”

His lip curled. “Sitting at a desk all day can be hard on your body. Some time at the gym would make you feel healthier, like Tad here.” Mario clapped him on the shoulder. “He and I go to the gym every night after work.”

Tad flashed him a smarmy smile. “Good for my body, plus it keeps me out of the house when the kids are at their worst, right before dinner.”

“Must be nice,” I said, “to stroll into your house, dinner on the table and kids cared for.”

“It is,” Tad said. “Though you don’t have to worry about that. No spouse, no kids. Just freedom.”

“And work,” Mario added. “People without kids pick up the slack for the rest of us.”

“Yeah.” I forced a nonchalant smile onto my face, trying not to think about how much Mario was going to hate it when I told him I was going to take maternity leave. After Tad returned from his two weeks of paternity leave, our boss had given him shit assignments for almost a month. Not to mention how he’d act when I came back and had to miss work whenever the kid was sick.

“With all that free time, Lucie, you should try the gym,” Mario said. “Firm up that belly.” Slapping his taut stomach, he turned and sauntered out.

“Have fun at the rally.” Smirking, Tad followed him.

I curled my fingers so tightly around my mug that I thought it might crack. I looked sloppy?Fuck him. Fuck them both.

But Mario was my boss, and I needed my health insurance. And, apparently, a pair of pants that fit so I could blend in with the guys. It was time to dig into that bag of scary maternity clothes Carly had brought me.

I poured my decaf down the sink, rinsed out my mug, and headed back to my desk to gather my things. I had a meaningless protest to cover.

“Do you think I look sloppy?” I asked as I swung my feet over the side of the exam table the Friday after Mario recommended I go to the gym.

“Sloppy?” Savannah scrunched her nose. “No. You always look edgy and intentional about what you’re wearing, unlike me.” She pointed at her pink velour tracksuit and then up at her hair, which was pulled back from her face in a clip. “My grays are awful.”

They did look pretty obvious because of the line where her blond hair dye started. I didn’t think she wanted me to agree with her, but I wouldn’t lie. “You look comfortable. And you work at home, so it doesn’t matter what you wear.”

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