Page 69 of Desserts for Stressed People

He scowls at me. “I’m your superior. I’ll deal with the band. End of the discussion.”

When my head feels like a teapot about to whistle, I storm away. I wish I could slam the door behind me, but it’s one of those that closes at its own pace no matter how strongly you pull it. So I rush back into my office and sit in my chair, pressing my fingers on my temples.

There might be nothing I can do to change his mind about me, and after his reaction, I’m not sure I want him to. But he won’t cut me out of this project. I need that promotion, and I’mnotletting him win.

I immediately contact the band, and within half an hour, I know where I need to be and at what time. He’ll have me there tomorrow night whether or not he wants me.

* * *

Friday.This week has been insufferable. No one in the office really talks to me—or to each other—and now that Shane and I are on non-speaking terms, I’ve gone back to eating at the cafeteria with my old teammates to get some human contact. They’re working on some marketing campaigns for a local celebrity, and they got tickets to go see her show.

Though I knew I was going to regret this sixth-floor adventure, I had no idea it’d be this much.

At least, I’ve barely seen Alex too. His startup is trying to reel in a new partner from somewhere in Asia, and he’s been having meetings at the most absurd hours. Dinner-at-breakfast-time type of routine, which would be perfectly fine if he didn’t leave a mess all over the place.

Still better than being forced to withstand his company, I guess.

I grab my bag, making sure I’ve actually remembered my Super Sad Salad and my box of Oreos—sometimes I’m so tired in the morning that I forget them on the kitchen counter—but as I’m making my way out, Marina calls my name.

“Meeting.”

“I’m on my way to lunch.”

She shoots me a look I interpret as “I couldn’t care less,” so I reluctantly follow her into the meeting room. The whole team is there, with Shane at the head of the table.

When we glance at each other, I’m not sure who turns around first, because it happensthatfast. Then I sit and wait.

“We haven’t met as a team for a while, so I thought it might be worth catching up,” Shane says as the last people enter the meeting room. Tapping his fingers on the glass table, he continues, “Catch me up.”

That’s my cue, so I perk up in my chair. “Everything’s under control, we—”

“David, how are we doing with the budget?”

As David takes out his tablet and starts pouring out numbers like a calculator, I slump back in my chair. I glare at Shane so hard that he could catch on fire, and he must feel it because his eyes shoot to me, radiating as much disdain as mine.

“Great,” Shane says as soon as David is done speaking. “Willow? An update on social media?”

“Oh, hmm...” Willow, who has less to do with social media than I do with aeronautical engineering, shoots me a desperate look, and I interject.

“We’re in line with the goals—”

“I asked Willow, not you,” Shane barks.

I look down at the table with a huff. He is being such an asshole. He’s angry, I got it loud and clear, but he seems to forget I’m here because he needs me.

When my heartbeat muffles my colleagues’ voices and my hands are shaking, I get up and walk toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

Turning to Shane, I force my shoulders to square. “I’m obviously not needed at this meeting, so I won’t waste my lunch break on it.”

“Heaven, you’ll leave when the meeting is over.”

There’s a staring competition going on, and we all know how I feel about winning. I won’t let him treat me this way, no matter how hurt he is. If he’s going to bring our problems to our workplace, then I won’t respect him as my boss.

With a glare, I turn around and open the door, leaving him and the stupid meeting behind me.

* * *

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