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“Is that why you’re mean to me?”
He looked affronted. “I’m not mean to you. I just try to find ways to get an advantage. I’ve never done anything malicious.”
“The thing you said about my outfit this morning wasn’t mean?”
“I— Okay, that was a little harsh.”
“Mm-hmm. And planning your lunch date with Shawn on the same day, at the same place, at the same time as my lunch with Lily—a lunch literally everyone knew about, so don’t you dare call it a coincidence—wasn’t malicious?”
He smirked. “It kept you on your toes, didn’t it? You said yourself that you killed it.”
She scoffed, suddenly indignant. “So now I’m supposed to thank you? God. This is so typical of men: doing something they think is helpful and then expecting gratitude when the act wasn’t even necessary—or asked for—in the first place.”
He leaned back and blinked, looking a little frightened. He seemed to gather himself before speaking. “Okay, fine. I did it on purpose to mess with you. I wasn’t trying to keep you on your toes; I was trying to give myself an advantage.”
A spark popped inside her like a firecracker. “An advantage? Are you kidding me? Chase, you already have all the advantages.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but she silenced him with a glare, knowing anything he said wouldn’t hold water.
And then, her own words came flooding out.
“You realize I have to work twice as hard for things that are handed to you, and I get paid less for doing it—and women of color get paid even less than me. I can’t behave like you can and not be punished for it. You’ve probably never been called bossy or had to seriously consider how you phrased something before speaking so you weren’t dismissed. I bet you’ve never put an exclamation point or a smiley face in an email to sound friendly for fear of coming across harsh. You haven’t been conditioned to apologize when you interrupt someone. No one has ever patronized you with ladies first as if they are relinquishing right of way because they own it. When you get mad, you can just be mad. You can raise your voice in a meeting; you can storm out of a room. If I do any of those things, I’m hysterical and overreacting. No one second-guesses you, doubts you, asks if you’re sure you know what you’re talking about. They just believe anything you say. Why do you think we’re sitting outside HR right now, preparing to be interrogated about Annie’s allegations rather than watching Jonathan get dragged out of here? And these might all seem like small things, but trust me, they add up, and it’s fucking exhausting.”
He stared at her, silent. His mouth didn’t fall open in shock, but he also didn’t try to disagree. He, for once, looked like he truly heard what she had said.
Lucy exhaled a tired breath, feeling the weight of her words and worry and honesty lift off. Though she’d had those thoughts since she joined the professional workforce, she’d never voiced them. She’d never fully considered them, turned them over and saw them for what they were, and thought about the toll they took.
And there she was, opening her heart to Chase McMillan.
She expected a snide remark; something sharp-tongued that would cut her up and reinforce the notion she was too sensitive or overreacting. But instead, Chase looked at her and simply nodded.
“You’re right. I don’t have to deal with any of that. And it’s not fair.”
The Chase-shaped knot in her chest loosened, and she found herself softening toward him. “It’s not fair. And I’m not asking you to go easy on me—because you do keep me on my toes; you kick ass at your job too—I’m just asking that you please don’t go out of your way to make mine harder because you think you need an advantage.”
He considered her with a steady gaze, and she wondered if a Lucy-shaped knot in his chest was loosening too. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“Thank you.”
They settled into silence again, but it was comfortable. She couldn’t believe she was getting along with Chase McMillan and she had confessed he kept her on her toes by being good at his job. What had gotten into her?
The truth, obviously.
And she realized she’d rather have Chase around, making her better at her job—as long as he wasn’t sabotaging her on purpose—than not have him at all, even if he did drive her nuts.
“You’re not so bad, Chase.” Her admission embarrassed her, but the words were out without her consent.
Chase smiled. “Yeah, I guess you’re all right too, Lucy. Truce?”
He held out his hand, and she slipped hers into it, returning his smile and shaking.
“Truce.”
And then she remembered where they were sitting, and an ugly thought struck her.
“Wait. Are you saying all this to me because you feel badly that I’ve been harassed?”
Color filled his face, and he rolled his lips inward, looking guilty but unsure about it. “Maybe?”
