"Miss Carter, how many times does a man have to ask a woman like you out before she finally says yes?"
It was Eric. Of course, it was Eric—Melinda's least favorite person in the entire office, and unfortunately one who never seemed to grasp the concept of boundaries.
Melinda was the assistant to Susie Bowden, the elusive boss who hadn't stepped out of her glass-walled office in weeks. Melinda's job was simple: answer phones, redirect calls, look presentable, and say just enough to not be remembered. Easy, quiet work that paid surprisingly well for how invisible she was expected to be.
Most days, coworkers shuffled by without more than a glance, murmuring about quarterly projections or speculating—loudly enough to be heard through the thin walls—about whether Susie actually lived in her office. Melinda often wanted to chime in, just to say she hadn't seen their boss either. Not really. Not until today.
But now, Eric's voice broke through the hum of the office. He leaned just far enough over her cubicle wall to make his presence unignorable.
Melinda kept her gaze fixed on her monitor, pretending to scroll, willing him to disappear.
"Earth to Melinda?" he said, waving his hand in front of her face like she was a child who'd wandered off.
Slowly, deliberately, she lifted her head and met his eyes.
Greedy. Smug. Hungry in that sleazy, entitled kind of way that made her skin crawl.
She didn't smile. Didn't flinch. Just blinked—once—and then let the silence stretch, daring him to fill it.
"Why don't you want to take a chance, huh? What is there not to want to test out about me?" he asked as if they'd been engaged in conversation for longer than mere seconds
"Because chances with men like you lead to STDs, unwanted crotch goblins, and regrets I don't have time for. I'm busy and I assume y-"
"No, not in the slightest, I'm not busy at all, and by the looks of it neither are you."
"I-" she began
"Ever, you are never busy ever, so why don't you stop playing coy and give me a chance? Better yet, want to get lunch together, can we ride in my tesla?" he said cutting her off again with a toothy grin
"No. Eric I don't want to go on a date with you and no I don't want to ride in that overpriced lunch box, now excuse me I have to give Miss Bowden these um- these reports!" She said, taking the chase to push herself back from her desk, as she stood she flinched as Eric's hand shot out to caress her face for a mere second before she laughed and walked away
She shook her head and turned on her heels, pushing her chair back from herself, walking towards the clear glass door that was the only view into her boss's office. She didn't have shit to give her. She was just trying to escape him. Her hand rested on the door handle as she turned her head slightly, hoping Eric was fully gone, he wasn't. She quickly averted her gaze back to the printed name on the door and turned the handle. Unease settling in her gut.
"Miss Carter, a pleasant surprise, I didn't ask for you, did I?" the much older woman questioned slowly, her eyes never rising to meet Melinda's at the door.
She froze.
She didn't know if she would move any further, she had not entered here unless asked, and to just step in without reason felt foreign.
"I—I just needed a break," Melinda said, forcing her voice to remain steady. "Eric's being... his usual self."
Susie finally lifted her gaze, brows arching with mild interest, as she gestured toward the chair opposite her. "Come in, then. Sit. Let's talk about him..."
Melinda hesitated just long enough to feel awkward, then stepped inside and closed the door behind her. The blurred glass wall offered little privacy, but somehow, once inside, the room felt removed—like the rest of the office completely faded away.
Susie leaned back in her chair, one leg crossing over the other slowly, deliberately. "Don't be nervous, darling. You're not the first to bring him up," she said. "There've been whispers—lots of them—but no official complaints. And you know I can't act on whispers alone."
Melinda nodded, sliding into the chair. "I know. And to be honest, nothing's ever crossed the line. It's always just been... words. Sleazy comments. Overconfident flirting."
Her eyes stayed on Susie's face, trying to read her reaction, but it was unreadable—polished and cool. But beneath the surface, something else flickered. desire?
"I take this seriously, Melinda," Susie said softly, and for a moment her voice dropped into something more personal. "You shouldn't have to feel uncomfortable here. You're a good employee, If there's something you want to report officially, I'll support you. However, you need to."
"I appreciate that," Melinda said. She shifted slightly in her seat, trying to focus on her thoughts—but her breath caught when she felt it. The subtle pressure of a shoe, pointed and smooth, brushing against her ankle.
She didn't flinch. She didn't look down. She just crossed one leg over the other slowly, ignoring the butterflies erupting in her stomach.
"Eric," she continued, her voice a notch quieter, more focused, "he's cocky. That's all. A pest. It's never been physical..."
Susie hummed thoughtfully, her heel now grazing the side of Melinda's calf in a barely-there rhythm. The transparent glass of the desk offered no cover, yet the older woman seemed unfazed—if anything, emboldened. Her expression was calm, her lips curling at the corners as she tilted her head in amusement.
"I-i I'm not the type of flirting office?" she said with a slight raise in her voice betraying discomfort
Melinda sat up a little straighter, her shoulders pulling back instinctively as her eyes darted—briefly—to the door. A thick blanket of unease settling about her, her boss had always been supportive but never this supportive. She looked back, Susie was no longer behind the desk.
She was perched on the edge of it now, just to the side, looking down at Melinda with that same inscrutable smile.
"You are an enigma you know, always so composed, thoughtful... you notice the tiniest details." that's why I keep you around." Susie said, reaching out to let her fingers trail lightly down Melinda's arm. "It's no wonder Eric's interested. But if you ever need to talk... really talk... I'm always here. All ears."
The touch lingered longer than it should've, and for a heartbeat Melinda found herself leaning into it before she caught herself. She stood quickly, smoothing her blouse like she could iron out the flush rising up her neck.
"Thank you, Miss Bowden. I should... I should get back to my desk."
Susie didn't stop her. She just smiled knowingly, her voice soft and deliberate. "Of course. But remember what I said. Anytime."
Melinda nodded, hand already on the doorknob, desperate to put distance between herself and whatever that just was.
"Oh—one more thing," Susie added just as Melinda turned the handle. "I have a late meeting scheduled this evening. I'd like you to sit in and take notes. Shouldn't be long. Around six? It's with Brandi Brentford, she's around your age, I think you two would get along well?"
Melinda paused. "Yes, ma'am."
She slipped out the door, letting it close behind her with a soft click, then exhaled the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. The office was back to its usual rhythm—phones ringing, keys tapping, voices humming.
But inside, everything felt off-center.
Melinda returned to her desk with a knot of tension still twisted in her stomach. The soft click of the door behind her had done little to clear her head. She slid into her chair, straightened the stack of papers she hadn't touched all day, and stared at her monitor like the right combination of clicks might stabilize her pulse.
The next few hours passed in a blur of keystrokes and distracted tasks. Eric didn't come back, thankfully. No one else did, either. The office moved around her like usual, quiet, and distant. Occasionally, Susie called her back in to clarify a calendar note or add a last-minute appointment. Each time, her voice was calm, her expression unreadable, her touch non-existent. If the encounter earlier had shaken anything loose, it was hidden under layers of a practiced mask.
It wasn't until the clock edged toward 6:00 that Melinda noticed how still everything had become. Phones had gone silent, chairs left half pushed in, and half-empty coffee mugs abandoned. The office was empty now. Except for her.
Then, the elevator chimed.
She turned her head lazily, expecting maybe a postman or someone who'd lost track of time—until she saw her.
Tall, poised, and effortlessly stunning, the woman stepped out like she owned the very floor she walked on. Her locs were jet black, parted neatly and tied back into a low ponytail that brushed just past her shoulders. Her suit was midnight blue, tailored to perfection and hugging curves that spoke of power and precision. Just enough skin peeled from the open collar to leave the imagination grateful and longing.
Brandi Brentford.
Melinda didn't need an introduction. She knew it in the way her stomach flipped before a word was said, the way her skin warmed just looking at her. The woman's diamond-stud earrings sparkled with casual arrogance, and her heels echoed like a slow metronome counting down to something inevitable.
By the time Brandi reached her desk, Melinda was already breathless.
"Hello," she managed, voice soft, almost too quiet. She hated the way her tongue stumbled in her own mouth. "You're here to see Miss Bowden, right?"
Brandi's gaze landed on her with an intensity that made Melinda's spine straighten. She smiled, slow, knowing, devastating. She crossed her legs...
"I am," she said, her voice low and rich like aged bourbon. "Though, if I wasn't, I'd probably be here trying to pick you up."
Melinda's breath caught. She laughed nervously, "I—uh... thank you. That's... kind of you."
Brandi's grin widened, clearly amused by the blush creeping across Melinda's cheeks. There was something easy in the way she spoke, but not careless. Every glance, every shift of her weight felt intentional.
"You don't get told that enough, do you?" Brandi said, resting herself just at the edge of her desk.
"That you're stunning when you're nervous?", 'How the hell did she get past the cubicle?' she thought, Melinda opened her mouth to respond, but a voice cut in behind them like a blade.
"Miss Brentford," Susie called, appearing in the doorway to her office. Her tone was pleasant, but the edge was unmistakable—cool and clipped with just enough sharpness to make both turns.
Brandi straightened smoothly, as if the interruption hadn't fazed her. "Right on time, I presume."
"Of course," Susie replied, stepping aside to let her in. "Melinda will be joining us as well, I hoped she could aid in our communications"
Melinda blinked, her eyes flickering to Brandi's face but quickly darting away sure she'd seen a flash of suspicion, or her own panic rising,"Right, ma'am."
As she stood and gathered her tablet, she caught the look Susie gave her—neutral on the surface, but something possessive simmering beneath. Jealousy didn't shout from Susie Bowden. It whispered.
Brandi, however, gave her a wink as they entered the office together.
And as Melinda took her seat at the corner of the desk, pen at the ready, she couldn't shake the heat rising under her skin. The air between them hadn't cooled. If anything, it was just beginning to boil. But Susie seemed to be interested in their earlier games...