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It’s quiet in the area at work as I sit by myself, my head in the clouds. I’m peeling a tangerine, but not really paying any attention to it.

My mind is on Charlie. More specifically, on the deal we had. I fulfilled my end, playing Charlie’s pretty girlfriend. And Charlie…

Well, let’s just say that his end of the bargain was met when he made me orgasm three times in a row. I blush just thinking about it.

So I guess that since we've both held up our ends of the bargain, it’s over even though he did ask me to stay a little longer for appearances. I don’t want to play games anymore, and that’s all this is to him.

Showing up at the bar, waiting for him to call it quits is just torture. He’s just stringing me along. I sit back and sigh. I don’t want it to be over. I want anything but that, really. I want a commitment. I want more with him.

But facing him and asking for more is only going to leave me alone and brokenhearted even sooner. I can play along for a little while, but that only makes me more pathetic.

As I stand up, rolling my eyes, I throw the half-peeled tangerine in the trash. It’s time to quit moping over things I can’t change and do some work instead.

Sarah, my immediate boss, sticks her head in the break room. She’s redheaded like me and big-boned, but she always dresses like she’s on an Italian runway. Today she’s wearing a black boat neck dress that looks like it cost a million dollars from the way it flatters her frame.

“Hey, Grace.” She’s cheery as always as she steps into the room.

“Hey,” I say with a forced smile. I shouldn’t feel bad for my afternoon break, everyone takes them. Still, I feel the need to defend myself. “I’m just on my way back to work.”

“Do you have a minute? Jack and I would like to talk to you in his office.”

I stare at her. Jack Holt is one of the partners at our firm. I’ve literally only talked to him at Christmas, when he’s handing out holiday bonus checks. My heartbeat picks up with anxiety at the thought of having a meeting with him.

I rack my brain to figure out what he could possibly want to talk to me about. A new project? But no, he isn’t usually involved on that level.

This is looking really, really bad. I swallow the lump in my throat, searching Sarah’s face for a clue, but there’s nothing there.

“Uhh… sure.” I smile lightly.

“It’s nothing bad. Stop looking like I’m taking you to see the grim reaper,” Sarah jokes. “Come on.”

Does being fired count as bad? I wonder, trying to calm down.

I follow Sarah across the main room where everybody works. Unlike me, most of the employees don’t put their heads down while they work, so a few eyes follow me across the room. I glimpse Diane trying to make eye contact with me, but I avoid it. I haven’t talked to her since the wedding… which she didn’t attend.

Sarah leads me to a corner office, where she pauses to knock on the door. I fidget, gripping the hem of my shirt and trying to stay calm. Sarah wouldn’t lie to me.

“Come in!” Jack calls through the door.

We enter, my legs feeling like jello. Sarah shuts the door behind me, increasing my paranoia that I’m about to be fired.

“Grace, hi,” Jack says, standing up from behind his large espresso desk that’s littered with paperwork. He’s in his fifties, well dressed, and brown as a nut from tanning on his yacht. “Please sit,” he gestures to one of two chairs in front of his desk.

I glance at Sarah and pick a chair. Sarah sits in the other one, crossing her legs and smiling. Jack settles himself back behind his desk, looking serious.

My heart begins to thump wildly. I’ve never been fired before. My hands are clammy and I try to think of something to say, but I don’t trust my voice.

“So Grace, I asked Sarah to recommend someone to run the art desk, keep the designers on task. She recommended you.”

I stare at him for a second, processing his words, then look at Sarah. “She did?”

“Apparently you… let’s see here,” he says, picking up a piece of paper off his desk. He starts to read. “Quote - She works ten times harder than anyone else. If everyone was as dedicated to customer satisfaction and producing great artwork, we would be far more successful.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” I manage, my cheeks turning pink. I look at Sarah, feeling a sting in the back of my eyes. I didn’t think anyone noticed. I manage to answer Jack, although my throat feels tight. “Thank you for noticing.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank Sarah,” Jack says. “Now the promotion comes with a big bump in pay, and ten people working directly below you. Can you handle that?”

“I… yes,” I say, nodding vigorously. “Absolutely.”

“Alright! Well, Sarah will see that the paperwork is on your desk by Monday. Thank you for your hard work,” Jack says, standing and offering me a handshake.

I stand and shake his hand, trying not to let him see that I’m trembling. Sarah smiles at me on the way out. I don’t know how I’m even walking, I’m so stunned. Once the door is closed behind us, I let out a breath.

“Oh man. I really thought you were going to fire me,” I confess to Sarah.

She laughs. “I told you it was nothing bad!”

I reach out and almost grab her hand, but instead I clasp mine in front of me, feeling so grateful and overwhelmed. “Thanks so much, Sarah. Really.”

“Well, I just wanted you to realize that I see how hard you work. I see all the nights you’re here late, and all the crap you put up with from the salespeople.”

“You won’t regret this. I promise,” I say. I’m starting to get giddy, as the shock wears off.

“I’d better not,” she says, winking.

We part ways, Sarah back to her office and me back to my cubicle. I’m smiling so hard that it hurts as I return to my seat. Immediately, Diane’s head pops up over the cubicle walls.

“What was that all about?” she asks. “It looked serious.”

“I… I actually got a promotion,” I say. “It’s weird to say it out loud.”

“What?” she asks, standing straighter. “Promotion to what?”

“They need someone to manage the art desk,” I answer her, turning in my chair to face her.

“No way! I thought Melanie was going to run the art desk.”

She looks and sounds… pissed. I swallow, feeling the high die down and answer her, “Well, apparently not.”

“Congrats! Seriously, that’s awesome.” Although her words are kind, her expression and tone are still off.

“Thanks.” I smile and try to shrug it off.

“We should go celebrate later! Go out, grab some drinks.” Her fun side comes back, and for a second I think I imagined her original reaction.

I think about it, then decide what the hell.

“Sure. Maybe we could go to that bar with the awesome Mexican food?” I offer.

“Sarita’s? Yeah, girl. And then we can make our way to Mac’s.”

I go silent, pulling a face. Charlie said he wants me to come to keep up appearances, but I don’t know if I can bring myself to do it. I don’t want to get hurt. I don’t want to play games anymore.

“What?” Diane asks. “You don’t want to go to Mac’s?”

“Not especially,” I say but it’s hard to admit. My heart hurts just thinking about it.

“Is it because of Charlie? Oh my God, did you two break up?”

“Jesus, Diane!” I say, lowering my voice and looking around. “Not everything is about Charlie.”

“You did! You totally broke up,” Diane says, a hint of glee evident in her eyes.

“For your information, everything between me and Charlie was fake. We were just trying to fool his family,” I snap. “Which we did. Now we’re done.” I wish I could reach out and snatch my words back. It hurts to say it out loud.

“Oh,” she says. It’s hard to read what she’s really thinking. “Well, alright. Let’s go to the bar with the Mexican food, then.”

“Fine,” I say, on edge. I’d rather be angry than anything else. So I cling to that emotion although I think I’m only angry at myself. “I have a lot of work I need to finish first.”

“I guess that’s why you got the promotion,” she says, with a smile. “I’ll be back at six to bug you, though.”

She disappears behind her side of the wall. I’m left trying to decide if I should feel bad for snapping at her. I feel like she had it coming… actually, she had a lot more than that coming.

I slip on my headphones and sink into my work, refusing to think about any of this shit anymore.