Chapter 3: After Hours and Office Traps

One evening after Lillian left work, only Natalie and I were left in the office.

It was one of those late autumn nights when the sky turns purple and the city lights flicker on outside. The HVAC was humming, and the only other sound was my keyboard clacking. I’d started to relax when I noticed Natalie shutting the door quietly.

Natalie quietly closed the door, covered her mouth, and giggled: “Did you catch Lillian just now? She was sitting right across from you, legs crossed—bet you got an eyeful, huh?”

Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, her eyes dancing with mischief. I could feel my face burning. I tried to laugh it off, but my brain was short-circuiting—like, was this a trap or just office banter on hard mode? The whole thing felt like a test, and I didn’t want to fail.

Lillian had dressed a bit lightly today, but I didn’t comment—just shook my head quickly.

I looked anywhere but at Natalie, pretending to sort through some papers, desperately wishing I could vanish. No way was I getting caught in that trap.

Natalie pouted, unconvinced: “Don’t play dumb. Lillian definitely likes you. Where did you two go last time you went out alone?”

She leaned closer, her tone teasing but with a sharpness underneath. The air felt thick, and I fiddled with a pen, searching for the right words.

I denied it flatly: “Nat, don’t start. If I tried anything, Lillian’s husband would have my head.”

I tried to sound casual, but my voice cracked just a bit. In my head, I pictured Lillian’s tech-guru husband tracking my every move, and suddenly I felt like a character in some bad sitcom.

Natalie giggled: “You used to be a player, flirting with both me and the other girls in the cycling club. You had guts.”

She tossed her hair and grinned, clearly enjoying my discomfort. I could tell she remembered every little thing from back then—probably more than I did.

I blushed, scratched my head, and said, “Back then I’d just joined, didn’t know any better, just chatted with whoever. If someone liked me, I’d try dating.”

My voice was sheepish, the confession tumbling out half-formed. Truth was, I’d barely dated, but Natalie loved to exaggerate.

Natalie scoffed: “Shameless.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile, like she was enjoying being the one in control.

I meekly kept explaining, not daring to say a single wrong word.

One wrong word and I’d be the star of tomorrow’s group chat. I’d seen it happen—one joke, and suddenly you’re the meme of the month. I tried to keep my tone light, but inside I was sweating bullets.

I knew what kind of person Natalie was—if you hesitated even a little, the whole office would be buzzing with rumors.

She was the queen of the grapevine. She could turn an innocent comment into a full-blown scandal before you’d even finished your morning coffee. I’d seen it happen to others and didn’t want to be next.

Honestly, I really didn’t like women like her, so I kept my distance.

I learned to say just enough to stay on her good side—nothing more. Better safe than sorry.

Just then, Natalie suddenly leaned in close, whispering in my ear: “Jason, from what I see, you could totally land Lillian. Why not try the charm of a mature woman?”

Her perfume hit me first—something citrusy and sharp. The suggestion landed like a dare, her eyes glittering with a challenge I wasn’t sure I wanted to take. My mind raced, trying to decipher whether she was joking or testing me.

I stared at her, stunned speechless.

For a second, I wondered if this was some kind of elaborate prank. I felt my face flush, my hands going clammy on the desk. I tried to laugh it off, but nothing came out.

On Lillian’s side, she suspected there was something between Natalie and me.

I’d caught her glancing at us a few times, her eyes narrowing in that way that made me feel like I’d done something wrong even when I hadn’t. The tension was thick enough to cut with a letter opener.

After all, I got this job through Natalie’s referral—no secret there.

My connection to Natalie was public knowledge, and in an office like ours, connections always seemed to mean more than they should.