The pressure intensified the older I got, and with him gone, I was alone at home.
Alone with them.
He noticed, of course, when he was home for a short while or when we talked—he always notices when something is off.
He tried to get me out of the house to spend time with him and his wife, my nieces, who are six and eight. Go out of the city and on hikes. But at the end of the day, I still had to go back home.
I think he’s relieved that I’m out of there now, even if it means I haven’t seen him in the two years I’ve been here.
August is the only one I miss, the only one I truly have.
He’s my favorite person. But I’m not his, of course. His wife and his kids come first, which I understand.
I accepted this a long time ago.
I’m no one’s first choice.
I’m nobody’s favorite person.
The sound of approaching footsteps pulls me out of my pity party, and I brace myself as my boss, Dr. Edward Langley—or Dr. Cockwomble, as I like to call him in my head—the epitome of a chauvinistic and narcissistic prick, makes his predictable entrance into my office.
Despite his good looks—sharp features, chiseled jawline, and piercing blue eyes—his demeanor quickly erased any initialattraction I could have felt. He’s in his forties, with an athletic build and perfectly styled hair that gives him an air of arrogance.
He plants his ass on my desk, his usual spot when he wants to feel taller. I hate it, but I know the petty reason behind it—he’s five-foot-nine, I’m five-ten, and it fucking bothers him.
Men like him always seem to have an issue with me standing tall, quite literally, above them. I can’t help but relish the moments I do stand, looking down at him—there’s a twisted sort of pleasure in it.
“So, Amelia, what are you working on?” His tone is casual, but there’s an underlying impatience that sets my teeth on edge.
“I’ve been making steady progress on the integration features,” I say, keeping my explanation vague.
He doesn’t need to know that the only thing I did the last few days was research fish.
He interrupts, drumming his fingers on my desk. “You should have submitted a report on this last week.”
I open my mouth, the words almost spilling out about the fish and how they’d sidetracked me, but I catch myself just in time. “I’m aware of the deadline,” I reply, keeping my tone even.
He shifts, scanning my workspace as if assessing my competence at this very moment. “Well, now you’ll be juggling two projects.”
I straighten, my interest piqued despite my irritation. “Two?”
“The AI Department wants someone from our team to beta test their new operating system and see if it’s compatible with our smart home devices.” He smirks. “It’s a sort of companion AI, empathetic, designed for lonely people… singles, like you.” I glare at him, the words striking a nerve as he intended. “What? No man, no family, no kids, I thought you were the perfect candidate.”
I grit my teeth. “And what devices do they want us to test it with? I can make sure we have all of them here and running.”
“No, no…” he waves a hand dismissively, “… you do that in your free time at home. This weekend. They want to know how it interacts in the real environment. I know you have all our gadgets in use.”
“But—”
“You’ll manage. Let’s be honest. It’s not like you have a lot to do outside of work.”
The pleasure of punching him is not worth losing your job over, Amelia.
His insinuation hangs heavily between us, and then he adds, almost as an afterthought, “If you don’t want to test it alone, I can come over in the evenings, and we can do it together. Maybe drink a glass of wine while we’re playing with Elysium’s new toy.”
That’s the downside of the company-provided apartments. Almost everyone here lives in the same building as me, including him.
The offer sends a shiver of disgust down my spine. I know the way he looks at me—part heat, part jealousy, part disdain. He hates that a woman might just be better at his job than he is and would love nothing more than for me to submit to him.
