Page 57 of Dirty Little Secrets
“What do you want me to do with it?”
“I want you to use it. For lunch. For the days I ask you to handle reservations, dry cleaning, courier pickups, that kind of thing.”
That makes sense. Until it doesn’t.
“Okay… so I pay for your lunch now instead of Bash paying for it when he’s with me?”
“Yes. And yours.”
There it is.
Guilt, maybe. Compensation for what happened Friday night. For jerking off in front of me. For all the things we don’t say out loud.
“Okay,” I say.
I stand, planning on doing nothing personally with the card. “Is there anything else you need?”
He doesn’t answer. Just turns to his computer and begins typing at an inhuman speed.
By 2 PM, Bash brings his lunch I ordered and paid for using the fancy card. I assume Xaiden thinks I ordered from the same place. I didn’t. No way I’m spending $50 on a salad just because I’m holding his magic credit card.
I eat chips at my desk, sliding one into my mouth and shoving the bag out of sight when I hear him coming down the hall.
He stops in front of my desk. “Did you have lunch?”
My eyes stay glued to my screen. “Yes.”
He flicks the chip bag with his finger like it’s contaminated. “What did you eat?”
“Food.”
“What kind?”
“The edible kind.”
He picks up the bag. Crumples it in his hand.
“Hey! I was eating that!”
The can of ginger ale disappears too—straight into the trash. “That’s not food,” he states.
“Who made you the lunch police?”
His nostrils flare. “Fine. You want to play this game?”
He storms off, slamming his office door. What the hell ishisproblem?
A while later, I get an email from HR with a document on a DocuSign folder requesting signature for an addendum to my position.
From:[email protected]
Subject:Addendum to Employment Agreement
Attachments:Addendum_Contract_LunchBenefit.pdf
Dear Ms. Summers,
