April:
Okay, okay, jeez
This is why you’re not allowed to write your own press releases. You’re so mean.
I was just trying not to give you a stroke
Me:
I’m more likely to have a stroke looking at you in cheap, ill-fitting lingerie. I’m more likely to have a stroke seeing you genuinely trying to woo me with fucking candy.
I mean, I at least had the inkling of hope that the purchase at A&E was for a shitty toy that would help you.
But no. A goddamn candy thong.
You knew exactly how I’d react to that.
April:
Maybe a little
But I thought, y’know, worst case, we could put it on you
Me:
You’re such a fucking brat.
You had so many options, princess. Agent Provocateur. Fleur du Mal. Something sheer, expensive, that I can utterly destroy the moment I see it.
April:
Do you send all your employees bra suggestions or just the ones you want to knock up?
I stare at my screen, my mouth twitching. She’s teasing me; not just once, but multiple times. She’s not defensive, she’s not shrinking away, but she isteasing me. She’s too much fun.
Me:
Only the ones who underperform on lingerie expenditures.
Consider this a formal warning.
April:
HARSH
Come on it’s not that bad
(04.png)
The image of the most basic, scratchy-looking red lingerie fills my screen a second later. It’s laid out on her bed like it’s meant to excite me, but it looks cheap and uncomfortable. It’s barely more than a standard bra and thong set, but I still want toset it on fire. It would probably turn to ash in two seconds from all the nylon.
Me:
The only thing you got right was the color.
April:
So you don’t want to see me in them?
