Page 9 of Strictly Against Policy

As I scrolled through the orders before placing them, I couldn’t help but notice how he had selected the most expensive drink on the menu. To top it off, he added a fancy Madagascar vanilla syrup to his cold brew, topped off with some fancy cold foam.

I wasn’t cheap, but I was a person of practicality. So, when I saw that he had barely touched his drink, and that it had become this milky-brown and watery concoction by the end of the day, I sighed—not out of frustration, but because a perfectly good drink went to waste.

“You didn’t like the coffee you got, Jonathan?” Grace asked curiously.

“No, it was disgusting,” he muttered bitterly.

Or it wasn’t the perfect drink for him.

The same way I wasn’t the perfect colleague.

He turned to me with the corners of his lips downturned. I blinked back, unperturbed by his behavior. He walked toward me with heavy footsteps across the carpeted floor, cup in hand.

“I’m sorry to hear the drink you ordered wasn’t to your liking,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it, Dr. Lee. The coffee was as disappointing as I anticipated,” he muttered, not sparing me a glance.

Typically, I wouldn’t care how someone responded to me or what tone they used. However, his reply irritated me. I’d understand if he didn’t like me or my performance as his colleague. But for him to direct his bitterness at me over a coffee he chose? It was unnecessary. If he had an inkling it wasn’t up to par to his standards, he could have declined my offer.

My patience chipped thinner. I drew in a sharp inhale after he left the pharmacy floor and turned back to my responsibilities.

Underneath it all, a mild frustration began to bubble under my skin, the same way it usually did with Jonathan. It boiled over when I opened my locker to find a ten-dollar bill placed by my bag. It looked like someone slipped it in, considering its crooked position.

For the coffee, wrote Jonathan on a note.

No ‘Thank you’ or an apology for his uncalled for comment earlier. He didn’t even bother signing his name. But I knew it was him. His money looked like him. New. Crisp. Smelled nice. Most of all, it crumpled easily into a ball in my palm before I tossed it into my bag.

CHAPTER 6

Jonathan

I knew I’d been fucking dumb and childish since last week.

Every night after coming home from work, I thought about how stupid and petty I’d been after Shoua and Anthony had called me out. It didn’t look good. I know.

As a member of our team, I didn’t have any grounds to dislike Lina Lee the way I did. Sure, she was rude. Her demeanor was always cold, rigid, and emotionless. If she was engaged in a conversation, she always found the greatest way to converse in the driest and most uninterested tone. She never seemed to care about the pharm techs who wanted to know more about her, nor did she try to have a friendly relationship with them.

Aside from my personal grievances, she was an excellent staff pharmacist. If I went on a rampage and fired her, I knew I’d wake up the next day regretting it. Hell. I’d probably even beg her to come back—which I would never admit to.

She wasn’t afraid to work hard or step in to help our techs by answering phone calls or dealing with patients when they were overwhelmed with filling prescriptions. She never complained about the unprompted rushes. Lina also wasn’t afraid to look me in the eyes and raise a brow at me.

When her presence in the room was too much and I’d get all agitated, she’d turn to stare directly at me—practically challenging me to give her more of my irritation until my blood curdled.

It was the same way she’d look at me when she sat down at the corner of the table in the break room. She was typically pretentious, never eating her lunch with us even when Grace was kind and asked. At times, she even refused before Grace could finish the question. Perhaps today was the day she decided to climb down from her high horse.

“Your food smells delicious, Lina,” commented Sheryl.

“Thank you,” she mumbled quietly, glancing at me as though waiting for me to bite from my seat far from her.

I wanted to say, It’s nice to finally see you join us, Dr. Lee, but I knew that was too callous. After my comment yesterday about the nasty cold brew I ordered from a café she had picked, I knew it was best to shut the fuck up. My behavior over the last eight days was the most unprofessional it had ever been in any job. I hate what I’d allowed myself to become in front of my team.

It was embarrassing in hindsight.

I went back to avoiding Lina altogether. I ignored her and scarfed down my food in silence. My team glanced at me as I popped on my earbuds to tune out their conversation with Lina. But it wasn’t long before I was pulled back in.

“Jonathan!” Grace called out.

The team clearly knew who was least likely to step on my toes. Grace had been a pharm tech here for over 20 years; she was essentially the mother hen of Sierra. She knew every customer by name and always welcomed new patients warmly, especially with her loud but warm personality. If there was anyone who knew the history and the ins and outs of this pharmacy better than John, the owner, then it was her. It definitely wasn’t me, despite the fact I had started working here as a pharm tech myself years ago.