Disloyalty

- Spilled -

Are you serious? Another pile of work?" i stared at the stack of files and paper towering on Andrew's desk.

"Yes, very. I expect it on my desk by 2," he replied, not even bothering to look up from his laptop.

I want to walk out of this building and never come back.

"Are you just going to stand there gawking, or are you going to actually start working?" His voice cut through my sweet fantasies.

I cursed under my breath as I turned away, balancing the mountain of papers in my arms. "Asshole," I muttered, just loud enough that he might hear, but not enough to get caught.

"Not the first time you've called me that," he said.

I whipped my head around, stunned. He hadn't even looked up. His eyes remained glued to his laptop, as if the conversation barely registered. The nerve of him.

Without thinking twice, I let the stack of papers slip from my fingers. They fluttered to the ground in chaotic piles. "Oops," I said, feigning innocence. That finally got his attention.

I clutched my stomach dramatically, pretending to wince in pain. A single, calculated tear slid down my cheek as I looked up at Andrew, pleading.

"I'm so sorry," I said, my voice trembling. "I just—these intense cramps..." I winced again for effect. "You know... period pain. If I got down on all fours to pick those up, well... this skirt doesn't leave much to the imagination." I gestured toward the cheap black skirt I'd thrown on that morning and shrugged as though it were an unfortunate oversight.

Andrew's expression shifted from confusion to sheer discomfort. He blinked, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, before finally rubbing his temples and muttering, "Just... leave."

That was my cue. Trying not to burst into laughter, I darted out of the room. Heat crawled up my neck—a mixture of embarrassment, exhilaration, and a hint of regret. Holy shit. I cant believe I just did that.

Holly and James both told me that I probably wouldn't see much of Andrew, that he was too busy to micromanage us. Yet, here I was, barely three days in, and I'd already been called to his office four times—each one to collect more ridiculous amounts of work. 

James and Holly seemed to manage just fine with their workloads. So why was I the only one buried under stacks of files like a paper-pushing prisoner? The answer was glaringly obvious: Andrew was making my job impossible in hopes of me quitting.

I reached my desk and threw the papers down with a thud, loud enough to make James jump in his chair.

"Sorry, don't mind me—just trying to get through the other  5,000 pages I was just handed."

James rolled his chair over, raising a brow as he scanned my desk. "You must've made a pretty bad first impression. Maybe he's testing you, I have heard he can be like that"

Holly also wheeled herself over as well. "Or," she teased with a grin, "he just hates you. Could've been that first-day outfit."

They both laughed, but my smile was tight knowing the truth was far more complicated than they could ever imagine. 

I wanted to tell them so badly, I wanted to spill the whole story. That Andrew and I had a messy, tangled history that went far beyond any professional feud. 

That we despised each other long before I ever walked through the doors of this office. And yes, I had worn cowboy boots to piss him off on purpose.

 But how do you explain that without sounding completely deranged?