Page 8 of Revenge Brunch and Other Disasters

She yeeted it inside with all the dignity of a Shakespearean queen.

“Long live the phone alarm.”

“May it never betray you,” Sara said, raising her pudding cup in salute.

Linda clinked it with a spoon. “To new beginnings. And to not running into Mr. Arrogant ever again.”

Sara gave her a look.

Linda groaned. “Oh God, he’s gonna be at the office party Friday, isn’t he?”

“Rumor has it he’s bringing the dog as a plus one.”

Linda straightened up like she'd been electrocuted. “No. He wouldn't. That’s not allowed. There’s a no-pets-on-carpet clause in the handbook.”

Sara shrugged. “It’s on the loading dock this year. Carpet-free and chaos-optimized.”

“Of course it is,” Linda muttered. “Of course the universe would hand him the perfect dog-friendly, emotionally dangerous platform to exist on.”

Sara popped a spoonful of pudding. “Sounds like fate.”

Linda stared at the pudding. Then the trash can. “Wait—what if this is sabotage? By the clock.”

There was a beat.

“Well, damn it,” Linda muttered. “I have to go. I can’t let the corgi think I’m rude.”And maybe… maybe I don’t want him to think that either. Not that it matters.It wasn’t about the dog. Or the clock. Or the pudding. It was the fact that she didn’t want to spend another weekend nursing bruised pride and pretending she didn’t care what his smile looked like in bad office lighting.

Sara grinned. “And who knows? Maybe the dog’s charming enough to make up for his handler.”

“Doubtful,” Linda sniffed. “But at leastoneof them will probably respond when I say ‘wake up.’ Unlikesomethings.”

From the trash can, the alarm clock remained silent.

But the lid twitched. Once. Like a final warning.

Linda narrowed her eyes. “I swear, if you’re downloading a firmware update in hell, I will call an exorcist.”

Sara spooned pudding with grim satisfaction. “That thing’s not the only one who should be scared. You’re wearing real pants and considering emotional growth. That’s terrifying.”

Somewhere in the wind, a dog barked.

Friday was coming.

Chapter Five: The Corgi Gambit

Linda

FRIDAY ARRIVED FASTER than Linda expected, which was rude, honestly. She wasn’t ready.

She’d spent the whole day internally rehearsing how to be cool, aloof, unbothered. She had three canned responses ready in case anyone brought up The Interview Incident—now officially capitalized in her brain—and at least two snappy comebacks locked and loaded for Mr. Arrogant. It would be at least six months before she’d get the chance to interview again, and she wanted to punch him in his perfect face or maybe kiss him. Probably both.

And yet.

The moment she walked into the office party, holding a plate of suspiciously sweaty cheese cubes and wearing her “I’m effortlessly fun and professional” top (which had betrayed her with an unexpected side wrinkle), she saw him.

Tall. Confident. Wearing a navy button-down that probably cost more than her rent, somehow highlighted both his jawline and moral ambiguity, and had no right making him look that good.

She immediately forgot how to breathe and also possibly her own name.

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