Page 95 of Written By a Woman

I need to get out of here.

I stiffly forced my legs to take me back to my desk, replaying the scene I had just witnessed, over and over again. Zaid hunched over his desk, distress coating his body language. Jacqueline swiped through all the evidence proving that I used Zaid’s appearance, both inappropriately and without his consent. The light seemed too bright at my desk, and I kept either closing my eyes or squinting them against my computer screen.

I’m having a panic attack.

Zaid probably is too.

Oh god.

Zaid didn’t ask for this. He didn’t ask for any of this. Jacqueline was probably walking him through the procedure as I spiraled. He probably had no intention of speaking to me ever again, and I couldn’t find a part of myself that blamed him one bit.

I had crossed the line.

Hell, I hadsprintedacross the line.

I had even come back over, just to dance across the line multiple times in the last few months. I could have pulled the project as soon as I realized how messed up it was. I could have demanded to my agent and editor that I change the appearance of Zayne’s character. I didn’t. I actively chose to stick with the original inspiration, because I cared more about my selfish desires. I cared more about finally landing my dream job than I did about Zaid’s privacy. His peace of mind. The peace of mind that comes from working with employees whodon’twrite smutty fanfic about you.

It was my own fault.

I had no one to blame but myself.

Surely, I would be fired. I was replaceable. My job was fairly entry-level, and even though I was sure that there would be growing pains between firing me and hiring someone else and training them to do everything I did, it would be worth it to the company. Firing the lower-level employee who, for all intents and purposes, sexually harassed the CTO would make more sense than fighting to keep me on.

Zaid was valuable to the company.

I wasn’t.

So, what did I do now? Did I just…wait to be fired?

A new wave of embarrassment and dread filled my chest, and when I glanced at the time and saw that I only had about an hour left of my workday, I decided that sticking around was a bad call.

I stood from my desk, not remembering sitting down at it, and started shoving everything in my bag. Charger, earbuds, gum, ibuprofen, and Midol that I kept in the drawer.

“Signe,” Jacqueline’s voice made me jump and snap my head up towards where she stood over me, her iPad that had my sins clutched in her arm against her chest, “Do you have a moment?”

“I—I,” I closed my eyes, feeling my chin wobble and desperately trying to control my chaotic emotions, “I don’t know.”

Jacqueline’s dark eyebrows rose a hint, “Are you busy?” Her eyes glanced at my computer screen, “I’m sure whatever it is can wait.”

“Actually,” I felt my heart racing in my chest, my fight or flight instincts at war with one another as I shook my head and shouldered my bag, grabbing the desk plant that Zaid had given me.

I felt my eyes sting with tears when I remembered how I got this cute little plant.

Part of me wondered if I should throw it in the garbage instead.

A bigger part of me hated the thought of that.

“Actually,” I swallowed around the lump in my throat, attempting to speak again, “I think it’s best if I just go.”

Jacqueline’s brows came down this time, “Are you feeling alright?”

“No,” I shook my head, a smile tugging my lips as my bottom lip trembled, “I’m not. But that’s okay. I’m okay. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Worry about you?”

“I heard you, just now,” I jerked my head in the direction of Zaid’s office, making Jacqueline’s eyes widen as she straightened her posture.

“Did you?” She seemed a little nervous, and part of me truly felt bad for putting her in this position. I had just started to crack that armor of hers. We had just started becoming friends. And yet, she had to do her job.

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