Page 93 of Just So You Know, I Don't Work Friday

“Come with me, Harriet,” he said, grabbing me by the elbow. “We’ll be back,” he said.

“You okay?” Chelsea asked, and I just glared at her.

“What are you doing?” I asked Finn as he ushered me to his office. “And what was all that about? Why would you tell them that?”

He slammed the door behind him and crossed his arms. “Why would I tell them that we’re eloping?”

“Yeah. I know that maybe I gave you a really great blow job and maybe you’re bewitched by my beauty and my charm, but…”

His lips twitched. “Continue.”

“We’re not eloping, Finn, and I’m not going to be barefoot and pregnant in your kitchen, and I’m not going to be cooking all your meals and—”

“Thank God for that,” he mumbled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve just been doing to you what you’ve been doing to me, Harriet.”

“Huh?” I wrinkled my nose. “What do you mean?”

“You have been lying through your teeth since the first moment I met you.”

“That’s not exactly true,” I said.

“From your Rwandan coffee beans to your degree from the Culinary Institute of Paris to an Egg McMuffin to… I just can’t even think of one single truth you’ve told me.”

“So what? You don’t think I went to the Culinary Institute in Paris?”

He stared at me. “Do I think that pigs fly?”

My face went red. “I don’t know if you think that pigs fly.”

“No, I don’t think that pigs fly, and no, I know you didn’t go to the Culinary Institute of anything. I had hope that perhaps you could have some skills and you were just using the degree to get your foot in the door, but I quickly learned that wasn’t true.”

“So you never believed me.”

“Not really, no. Someone who doesn’t even know where coffee beans come from and thinks that they can pass off Keurig Dunkin’ Donuts coffee as Rwandan beans has absolutely no clue.”

“So then why did you hire me?”

“Because it was a simple test,” he said.

“What test?”

“I wanted to see how far you’d take things before you told me the truth.”

“What do you mean, how far I’d take things?”

“Well, you told me lie upon lie, and yet you also gave me a little lap dance.”

“That was not a lap dance, by the way. If I gave you a lap dance, you would know it.”

“Okay, well, I’m looking forward to that.”

“Oh, trust me, you will never be getting a lap dance from me.”

“Oh, I’m not so sure about that. You’ve already given me a blow job, and you’ve already let me—”

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