Page 15 of 100 Days to Ruin Me


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I nod, trying to look attentive while my brain screamsfuck this placeon repeat.

“I’m putting you on a performance improvement plan. Ninety days to show us you want to be here.”

A PIP. The corporate kiss of death.

“I understand.”

But as he drones on about expectations and metrics and professional development, my mind drifts back to last night. To green eyes and a voice that made my knees weak. To the feeling of being wanted by someone who looked at me like I was…

Oh God.

The memory hits me like a freight train.

My hand. On his… on his…

Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

“—and we’ll check in weekly to assess your progress. Mary? Are you listening?”

I must make some sound—a yelp, maybe, or a whimper—because Dave’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Are you okay?”

I shake my head violently, trying to dislodge the image of my drunk self grabbing a stranger’s cock through his jeans.

“Sorry. Yes. Weekly check-ins. Got it.”

But I don’t got it. I can’t got anything right now because I’m pretty sure I sexually assaulted the hottest man I’ve ever seen, and now I’m sitting in a performance review trying not to have a complete mental breakdown.

Did I really…? Oh God, I did. I grabbed him. And he just stood there. Probably paralyzed with horror.

“Mary, you look green.”

“I’m fine. Just… processing the feedback.”

Dave closes the folder. “I hope so. Because I like you, Mary. But this is a business, and we can’t carry people who aren’t pulling their weight.”

I nod again, muttering something about understanding and improvement, but inside I’m spiraling.

Real or dream? Real or dream? Please let it be a dream.

But I can still feel the phantom weight of him under my palm. Still taste wine and something dangerous on my lips.

Definitely real. Definitely happened. Definitely ruined.

I walk back to my desk on unsteady legs, feeling like everyone can see my shame written across my forehead in permanent marker.

Stephanie smiles at me as I pass. “How’d it go?”

“Great,” I lie. “Really productive conversation.”

I sink into my chair and immediately want to crawl under my desk and hide until this whole day, this whole week, this whole year just… disappears.

My phone buzzes. For a split second, my heart leaps.

It’s Jasper.

I answer, and before I can even say hello, his voice is already shrieking through the speaker.