my recovery. We had to stay fully clothed and couldn’t go further than making out. Despite the no-fooling-around policy, I’ve never had a more satisfying night.
I smile to myself, remembering the way his body was the perfect big spoon to my little spoon, how his sleepy grin and his perfectly tousled bed hair greeted me when my alarm went off. I could get used to that endearing sight every morning.
Will’s voice pulls me back to the present. “The storage product promo shouldn’t have started until next week. He knows that. I told him.” There’s the sound of papers shuffling.
“Well, Will, you can only do your best. You’ve always maintained excellent communication between your department and us folks in Purchasing, but that guy seems to have a mind of his own. Never really works well with others. I’m wondering if he needs a talking-to.”
My blood simmers. Perry speaks as though he has authority over the Purchasing department. He doesn’t. He’s the same level as Tate and me. Lorenzo is head of Purchasing, but he’s gone today, which explains Perry’s sudden appearance in our section of the building.
He sputters more nonsense about Tate’s supposed shortcomings. The urge to defend the man I’m dating is strong. This exact same defensiveness has hit me before when protecting my little sister from a bully or my best friend from criticism. It signals a turning point. Tate is now part of my tribe, and no one messes with my people.
I scroll through my emails. I remember Tate messaging me about those toolboxes a few weeks ago when I wrote descriptions for them.
Perry’s nasally vocal assault continues. “Now we have a slew of customers pissed that they won’t be getting the discount that was promised. The manufacturers only gave us permission for discounts on those specific dates, and the call center’s having to deal with their complaints. We’ll probably have to honor the sale by eating the cost ourselves. The manufacturers sure as heck won’t pay the difference between the sale price and the actual cost.”
The email I’m looking for pops up. Right there in bold, the incorrect date is listed, which means that Perry sent Tate the wrong information.
I print off the sheet, highlight the date, and dart to Will’s office.
Perry drones on. “I think that Tate should be the one to take the customer complaint calls. Don’t you—”
“Really?” I interrupt, standing in Will’s doorway. Perry frowns at me while Will looks up from behind a pile of scattered papers.
“You think Tate should apologize for your mistake? You’re completely in the wrong on this one, Perry. As usual.” I scowl at him before handing the paper to Will. “The only reason Tate set up the promo tweets for this week is because Perry told him to.”
“Let me see that,” Perry mutters. Will hands him the paper.
An expression between indignant and embarrassed clouds Perry’s face. “I don’t see why you needed to involve yourself in this discussion, Emmie.”
Classic Patronizing Perry. He’s used this tactic before when I’ve tried to correct him in the past. Always trying to make me feel like an outsider. He wouldn’t dream of taking that tone with Tate.
“I do.” I cross my arms, stand tall, and square my shoulders. I don’t even have to remind myself to slide into boss-bitch mode. I’m already there. “You’re only mad because I called you out on your latest blunder. Stop coming into our office and trying to get other people in trouble for your mistakes. We all have better things to do.”
Perry the Plague, meet next-level Boss-Bitch Emmie.
Will straightens in his seat before raising his brow at him. “She’s right, Perry.”
“Be more careful next time. We’re all a little tired of your unprofessional antics.” It’s my best professional screw-you tone. Clear and deliberate, almost slow in delivery, yet strong and hard in volume. It says don’t mess with me ever again unless you’re prepared to die on this hill.
Perry’s face reddens. He has no words, and it’s delightful. The few seconds of tense silence in Will’s office feel like a triumph.
“Ridiculous,” he mutters.
I slide to the side to let him exit the office first. He walks out the door, then freezes.
With wide eyes, Perry stammers at an unseen person around the corner. “I was just . . . You know, it’s a funny story—”
“Is it?” Tate’s hard tone hits my ears. He must have heard everything.
“I wasn’t trying to—”
“Weren’t you?” Tate is calm and steely in his no-nonsense tone. I know he’s standing up straight, arms