My female boss kept asking my boyfriend to run personal errands for her, even summoning him to deliver a dress to her hotel late at night. One afternoon, passing her office, I heard my boyfriend's strained voice inside...
That Damned Cup of Coffee
Everything had seemed perfect—my raise, the promotion, the end of those lingering glances at my boyfriend. Yet sometimes, deep in the night, that aching tightness in my throat would return. It all began with a cup of coffee. Jenna was my boss. When I first joined the company, I admired her—a force of nature. Mark, my boyfriend, worked in the same department but a different team. That morning, Jenna called me into her office and ripped into me about a delayed project report. Fuming, I stormed out just as Mark approached, documents in hand for her signature.
The First Errand
He went in. He emerged much later, looking unsettled. "What happened?" I asked. He scratched his head, "Nothing much. Jenna wants me to pop out and get her a coffee." "Coffee?" My voice might have risen. "The break room has coffee." "She says it’s not to her taste," Mark lowered his voice. "Specifically wants a flat white with oat milk from 'Blue Bean' on the corner. And... uh..." He hesitated, embarrassed. "And what?" "And... she wants the cup temperature tested against my wrist—warm but not hot." He rushed the words out as if they burned. "Insane! Gotta go, or she’ll blow her top." He hurried off.
The Justification
At lunch, I pressed him. "You actually bought it? Tested the temperature? Against your *wrist*?" Mouth full of sandwich, Mark mumbled, "What choice do I have? She's the boss! It’s just coffee. She claims sensitive skin—can't handle too hot or cold." He scowled, radiating resentment. "Don't overthink it." At the time, I agreed. Just coffee. But one cup became two, then countless. Jenna summoned Mark increasingly often—mornings, mid-afternoon slumps. His initial grumbles of "so annoying" subtly shifted into weary acquiescence.
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That Damned Cup of Coffee
Everything had seemed perfect—my raise, the promotion, the end of those lingering glances at my boyfriend. Yet sometimes, deep in the night, that aching tightness in my throat would return. It all began with a cup of coffee. Jenna was my boss. When I first joined the company, I admired her—a force of nature. Mark, my boyfriend, worked in the same department but a different team. That morning, Jenna called me into her office and ripped into me about a delayed project report. Fuming, I stormed out just as Mark approached, documents in hand for her signature.
The First Errand
He went in. He emerged much later, looking unsettled. "What happened?" I asked. He scratched his head, "Nothing much. Jenna wants me to pop out and get her a coffee." "Coffee?" My voice might have risen. "The break room has coffee." "She says it’s not to her taste," Mark lowered his voice. "Specifically wants a flat white with oat milk from 'Blue Bean' on the corner. And... uh..." He hesitated, embarrassed. "And what?" "And... she wants the cup temperature tested against my wrist—warm but not hot." He rushed the words out as if they burned. "Insane! Gotta go, or she’ll blow her top." He hurried off.
The Justification
At lunch, I pressed him. "You actually bought it? Tested the temperature? Against your *wrist*?" Mouth full of sandwich, Mark mumbled, "What choice do I have? She's the boss! It’s just coffee. She claims sensitive skin—can't handle too hot or cold." He scowled, radiating resentment. "Don't overthink it." At the time, I agreed. Just coffee. But one cup became two, then countless. Jenna summoned Mark increasingly often—mornings, mid-afternoon slumps. His initial grumbles of "so annoying" subtly shifted into weary acquiescence.
NEXT >>
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