Work for It

by Talia Hibbert

Which means it’s finally happened; after thirty-eight years of fighting it, I have become an alien species.

I feel like she’d trying to be profound and either she can’t or the situation doesn’t warrant it

He could choose any normal, messy, human man in this place, but he will take the alien because it looks divine. Men, in case anyone on earth has somehow failed to notice, are pigs. I can say this with supreme confidence, since I was a man before I was E.T.

it’s a game I like to play called Keeping My Shit Together. I try not to lose. Not in public, anyway.

Rebecca lets herself in after three seconds of waiting, which she’d probably describe as Oh my God like a fucking hour, and stands in the open doorway,

“Afternoon, Mr. Holyrood,” Rebecca says. The words are polite, right? But the way she says them, they sound like Fuck you, Mr. Holyrood, wearing their Sunday best. That’s her superpower.

I’m not a man who had to go home and Google the definition of ‘provincial’ before he could be properly pissed off, either. I mean, for Christ’s sake, did he have to insult me with Scrabble words? Couldn’t he have just called me a tosser?

“You come off it. What are you doing, sulking up there?” What a load of rubbish. I don’t sulk; I brood. Like Batman.

Now I feel like a troll on a bridge demanding payment for passage. Fuck it; why not? I’ll be a troll. I bet trolls get an unfair rep, anyway. I bet they’re proper decent blokes trying to make a living, but handsome, entitled princes keep turning up to cause trouble, and…

“I’m a profligate rake. It’s considered an outdated profession, but I’m rather good at it.”

The more time I spend in this place, the clearer it becomes that Griff is the local anomaly. People at work who are all warmth with me give him wary looks that I know—I know—he’s done nothing to earn. There are meaningful pauses and subtle sneers when his name comes up.

“I just don’t believe in coincidences.” “Well,” he says, “you should. The world is huge. The universe is huger. There are so many tiny, ridiculous, random events happening and independent choices being made each second, we couldn’t possibly count them all. It makes statistical sense for coincidences to occur all the time.”

“Attractive, intelligent, too talkative by half and generally in control of any situation. Of course I’m a lawyer.”

golden plaque on the door that features his name and the fact that he is CEO. Employees probably need the reminder, since Henry seems to work an average of two hours a week,

He best love everything about her, or I’ll be having words.

This is meant to be reconnaissance in my mission not to get too attached, but I am starting to suspect myself of ulterior motives.

I nod as if I’m not flinching at the idea that I’m part of a generic group named People Olu Fucks. I don’t know why. It’s not like either of us ever said this was anything else. My brain tries to tell me I’m an idiot. I tell it we don’t think things like that anymore, and if it’s not going to be a positive part of the team, it can piss off.

Olu claps his hands and says, “Well, then,” which is the universal phrase for I want to leave and don’t know how to put it politely. I may not be an expert in people, but I know that much.

For some reason, I demand, “What, are you fucking her, too?” Olu raises his eyebrows and blinks very slowly. I think that might be Morse code for Don’t be an imbecile.

See, you never can tell what rich people might do. They don’t think in straight lines. It’s like, the more money they were born with, the fewer logic points they get.

Wanting Griffin, it turns out, is rather like being with Griffin: I forget to worry about things that don’t matter.

presses his free hand into his thigh. I can feel the force of his hope, his nerves, his regret. But beneath all that, I can feel myself: I’m stunned. And so happy I don’t know what to do with it. What happens when you’re overflowing with more fucking joy than you’ve ever felt in your life? It’s like an ocean in me, made up of I love you and You’re brilliant and Will you give me a chance? All the things I’ve ever secretly wanted, barely dared to hope for, never quite got around to expecting.

Before, my heart ached for him, which was very noble and emotional and shit, but now he’s in my heart, so the nobility has gone, and it’s my balls that ache instead.