Page 104 of Not Safe For Work

“What’s wrong?” Gavin asks across our desks.

Shit. “Did I say that aloud?”

“No, but you mouthed it.” He mimics me, mouthing an overly exaggeratedfuck.

Guilt pours over me. Gavin is my boyfriend. Nothing fake about it. It suddenly feels dirty to keep these messages a secret from him. I need to come clean, but I have no idea how he’ll react.

“I’m okay. But I have something I need to talk to you about. Maybe tonight? We could get dinner?”

“Can’t, Sparkles. I have a thing with Daanesh.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He looks toward Mitch’s office but it’s still empty. None of us know if he’s still in Portland or planning to come in late. He’s been managing the whole team by email for the last three weeks.

“Let’s go get a coffee. I can’t go all day wondering why you’re upset.”

“Okay, just give me fifteen minutes.”

I fire off another email to Darnell. I shared a pricing proposal after our last meeting, and he told me the next step would just be landing on the right start date and getting approval from leadership. Leadership equals Tristan.

This time I copy Tristan back into the thread to ask for an update and any outstanding questions or concerns. I also throw in a few of my favorite value points—never stop selling!

My stomach is full of butterflies, the evil kind, as I think about what I’ll say to Gavin. Everything about this situation has turned to shit. I have no idea if the deal will close, if my promotion or even my job is still in danger. Gavin is my only bright light these days. What if he’s pissed I’ve been hiding this from him?

My phone buzzes, interrupting my internal pity-party.

Mitch Stevenson:

Did Tristan RSVP yet?

What’s the latest update?

I motion to Gavin that I need another minute and take my phone into the closest conference room to call Mitch. I know this is going to suck, but I’d honestly just rather get it over with.

“Hey Livy,” he answers. It sounds like he’s in an arcade or something, lots of ringing bells and buzzers in the background.

“Hey. So I just heard back from Tristan and he can’t make it. But I think?—”

“I’m gonna email Gavin to take over on this, Livy. I can’t let you fuck around anymore.”

“Excuse me? I’m?—”

“You gave it a shot, now?—”

“No. I didn’t give it a shot. I amactivelyshooting and about to score. Just give me the chance to get open. I will close this deal, Mitch.”

“Appreciate the sports knowledge Livy, but—what?”

I hear a squeaky voice come through Mitch’s end of the line. “I can use the company card again, right baby?”

It sounds like something is rubbing against his phone, like maybe he’s trying to cover it. “Get anything you want. Just give me a minute,” he says, voice slightly muffled.

“Hello?” I ask, wondering if we’re still in the middle of this conversation.

“Sorry. Tif—Ellen’s on my case again.”

“Okay.” I draw out the word, confused as hell, because that didn’t sound like a couple who argues as much as Mitch does with his ex.

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