Page 54 of Mr. Perfect

“Whatever he did. I mean, it was pretty obvious that the two of you hit it off last week and now it’s pretty obvious that he’s not speaking to you. So I’m sorry. Office romances, right? It’s difficult. Especially when you’re dating your boss.”

“Oh,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “We weren’t dating.”

“Well,” Jennifer says. “OK. But you were doing something. Ellen told me she caught you two in the stairs right after your completely hilarious exit from the meeting. I have to say, Ellie, that was epic. Best scene ever in all my twenty years in Corporate America.” Jennifer laughs, and I don’t think it’s a making-fun laugh either. I think she really did get a kick out of my meltdown.

I’m not sure how I feel about that.

“I hear you wrote a book?” Jennifer says.

“Let’s just try to concentrate on work, OK, Jennifer?” I smile at her, but it’s forced. I want to rip her hair out right now.

“Sorry,” Jennifer says. “I’m not trying to be mean. I had a few office affairs in my time as well. In fact, Joe and I got married last year.”

“Joe? Joe Fuller in accounting?” I’ve seen them together a lot, and I figured it was another one of her flings. But married?

“Yeah, he’s not as flashy as Doug over in Studio Eleven production, but he’s perfect for me. And I guess that’s all that matters.”

I stare at my screen, quiet for a few seconds. “Everyone knows?” I ask, looking over at her.

She nods with a sympathetic smile. “Everyone. It was pretty apparent that you two had chemistry. And for what it’s worth, I think everyone feels bad that it didn’t last.” She huffs out a small laugh. “Well, except Ellen, I think. She’s got some grand delusion that she and McAllister Stonewall are meant to be together.”

“Ellen?” I roll my eyes. She’s like ten years older than him.

“Just ignore her.” Jennifer places a hand on my shoulder. “And don’t tell her any details. I’ve been working with her for many years and she’s a conniving bitch. She will spread rumors faster than you can blink. She outed me once too. But that was with Joe, and we were already engaged, so no one cared. Besides, Joe and I are in completely different departments.”

“Yeah,” I say. “How did I not know any of this?”

Jennifer shrugs. “You’ve been down at the airport for what? Seven years? How would you know anything?”

“True. I have to admit, I kind of like it up here. It’s nice to be around people. In all the hustle and bustle.”

“Sucks that you’re leaving. You could always change your mind, you know. Even if McAllister doesn’t want you here, Stonewall Senior will.”

“No,” I say, sighing out the word. “I did write a book and I’m going to publish it one of these days. That’s why I’m leaving. I just need to move on, you know? I’ve been here since college. It’s time.”

“Well, I don’t want your job, Ellie. Mr. Stonewall told me to fill in for you, but I honestly don’t know how I can. I have my job too. And maybe it’s not as exciting as what you do, but I like it. I’m used to it. And I’m good at it. I’m going to mess up everything when you leave.”

“No, you won’t,” I say, smiling. “I’ll show you everything. And if you have time this week, I’ll even let you come with me.”

“That would be great,” Jennifer says. “I’ll make some time.”

Jennifer does accompany me, and I do get all the scheduling information to her before the week is over. But even though I’ve accomplished everything Mac told me to this week, I feel let down.

It’s Friday morning and this is the first day Mac even came into the office. I can hear him talking on the phone in his office right now. It’s killing me.

I want nothing more than to burst in there and tell him off.

In fact, I’ve envisioned it all week. I picture myself walking in there, slamming that connecting door, and just laying into him.

And then I completely lose touch with reality, because I picture him pushing me up against a wall and kissing me as his hand slips up my dress.

Yes. I wore a dress today even though it’s casual Friday.

The dress, in fact. The two-thousand-dollar Victoria Beckham pencil dress.

And I didn’t unzip the bottom. On purpose. I want to parade my wiggling ass around in front of him and drive him crazy. Make him wish he’d never talked to me that way. Make him beg me to take him back.

Jesus Christ. Why am I so delusional?