Workplace
Office tension, professional boundaries crossed
36 stories
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"I Believe the Chart Room is Technically Off-Limits"
He tasted like expensive gin and the kind of professional trouble that leaves a permanent mark on your resume.
November 12th, 2:44 AM
I viewed his interest as a high-value prospect with a significant barrier to entry, a lead that needed aggressive nurturing.
Sit on Your Hands
I’ve spent ten years pretending his voice doesn't make the hair on my forearms stand up like a goddamn lightning strike.
"I Think You Should Keep Your Voice Down"
The steam didn't obscure her; it acted like a soft-focus lens on a camera I wasn't supposed to be operating.
Gloss
The way she looked at me across the open bar wasn’t an invitation; it was a hostile takeover of my entire respiratory system.
Lock the Heavy Door
The friction of her wool skirt against his trousers had the same rhythmic, warning rasp of a serrated blade being drawn from a Kydex sheath.
June 14th, 4:12 PM
The humidity had turned my notebook into a sponge, but I still wrote down every word he said as if it were a deposition.
Was I Supposed to Pretend I Didn't See You in the Quiet Car?
He was vibrating with the kind of repressed energy you usually only see in a junior associate who’s just realized they missed a filing deadline.
The Service Corridor Behind the Grand Ballroom
The way you handled that laser pointer during the afternoon breakout session should be illegal in at least forty-seven states.
Hold Still
The way your pulse hammered against the skin of your throat through my viewfinder felt like a rhythmic demand for an edit.
A Small Tin of Tiger Balm
The air in Flagstaff was too thin for the secrets I was trying to keep, every breath dragging the scent of pine and his skin deep into my lungs.
The Professionalism Left the Building Around Three P.M.
His thumb was hooked in my belt loop, dragging the denim just low enough to let the draft hit my hip bone.