Page 7 of Croc Food

But the more I sat in my office and stared at my computer screen, the less fully justifiable and defensible it seemed.

After an hour I began to shift uncomfortably in my seat.

Well, perhaps I hadn’t put that very well. Maybe I should have waited for a day I wasn’t so stressed.

And had I made it very clear that of course this just pertained to her appearance and behavior around my work colleagues and boss?

I wasn’t so sure I had.

After teaching my first lesson of the day, I felt even worse.

Obviously I didn’t want her to change. If I’d said that, I hadn’t meant it. That was ridiculous. I adored everything about Bitsy. Not only was she super sexy, absolutely bitchin body, but she was funny as hell, smart, interesting, kind, really considerate, banger cook, and my soulmate.

Wanna get Cuban food for dinner? I texted her.

That was her favorite, and obviously I was going to properly explain things tonight. It was just a work thing. Nothing else. Nothing to be upset about.

But after an hour had passed and she hadn’t responded to my text, I began to twitch a bit.

By the time it was almost lunch, I wondered if maybe I hadn’t been a bit of an ass.

In fact, I was sure I had been.

Sorry for how I behaved last night.

No response to that either.

God, really, I had been rude. I definitely hadn’t been fully clear about what I was asking her to do. I hadn’t been trying to hurt her feelings or anything. I’d just been feeling so stressed recently, could barely think about anything but this promotion.

Now I really regretted not making things clearer to her.

Although she might be busy at the Sloppy Joe, I itched to call her. It wasn’t usual that she was this busy, so busy she couldn’t even respond to my texts.

By the time lunch rolled around, I wasn’t feeling hungry at all, only jittery and anxious, every single ding on my phone making me lunge to see if it was Bitsy texting me back.

But it never was.

Back in the break room, I opened my lunchbox.

Whatever this lunch was, I was going to appreciate the fuck out of of it.

But it was totally empty except for one neatly folded piece of paper.

What the hell?

I opened it hastily, glancing down at my phone to see if maybe she had texted back and it was all a big joke.

Nope.

Dear Chad,

Maybe Kyle’s wife can make your lunch.

Regards,

Bitsy

Not even an xoxoxo after her name? Boy, I was in deep shit.