By a Thread

by Lucy Score

I navigated the curb buried under foot-tall piles of what used to be snow. Now it was gray slush frozen into dirty, depressing clumps. I identified with those frozen clumps.

“Can I get you a drink?” Rude Sex Hair was back. “I don’t know. Can you?” I shot back. “We’re fresh out of the blood of children, Satan. How about something that matches your personality?”

Was grumpy and rude suddenly the new hot? My vagina seemed to think so.

It was effing cold. My righteous anger kept me as warm as it could.

I got the feeling Shayla was fantasizing about pushing me into my chair and shoving it through the windows at my back.

“Can Charm—your son fire me?” I asked. Her smile was feline. “No. Dominic can’t fire you.” “Okay, then. Do I have to be nice to him?” She leaned back in her chair, considering. “I think you should have the relationship you feel most comfortable having with my son.”

“You started it,” I snarled. “And you thought you were above the rules.” Okay. She may have had the thinnest, most microscopic point.

“You’re fired.” She smiled evilly at me, and I was taken aback by how attractive I found that. “That’s something you’re going to have to discuss with your mother. I don’t believe you have the authority to fire me.” She tapped a finger to her chin. “That’s something I will be remedying, Maleficent,” I promised her. “See how well we’re getting along already?” she said. “We already have cute nicknames for each other. We’re practically mani-pedi buds. Now, if you can point me in the direction of human resources, I’ll get out of your hair, and if we’re both very, very lucky, we’ll never see each other again.” I would have liked to point her in the direction of an open window.

“You’re a great guy, Buddy,” Gola said, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. He hooted with laughter. “Wait’ll I tell my wife!”

“Dominic Russo has been Frosty the Fine Snowman to everyone since he got here over a year ago,” she explained quietly. The palms probably had ears. Interesting. My limited experience with Charming had been the exact opposite. I hadn’t seen frigid. I’d seen hellfire. “Who knew it would be a pepperoni pizza that pushed him over the line?” Ruth mused.

“So I’m at the bus stop trying to figure out what to do before my bartending shift⁠—” “Ally is poor,” Gola explained to Ruth. “Got it.” Ruth nodded.

“She was Dominic’s dad’s girlfriend,” Gola whispered the word “girlfriend” and looked over her shoulder. “You mean side piece,” Ruth hissed. “Ruth!” “What? It’s true.” Ruth scooted her chair closer. “So, Paul Russo, Dalessandra’s husband and Dominic’s father, used to be the creative director here. But rumor has it he tended to use his position to go fishing in the company pond if you catch my drift.” I was an excellent drift catcher.

“Poor little gold-digging dumbass,”

“Let’s get drinks after work tonight,” Ruth suggested. “I feel like we have so much more gossip to impart.” I grinned, standing. “I can’t. There’s that whole I’m poor thing, and I’m working tonight.” “You have a second job?” Gola asked. “I have four second jobs.” “Girl, you need a vacation.” And a mango margarita.

“Excuse me a minute,” I said, interrupting an editor. “Do you mind typing just a little quieter? It sounds like you’re trying to stab your way through the table.” Everyone turned to stare open-mouthed at Ally. She looked up. Smiled. And I suddenly couldn’t wait to see what she’d do next. “So sorry,” she offered sweetly. I was disappointed. Momentarily. As soon as the table returned to their debate whether peach or rose was a better background, Ally mashed her keyboard in an obnoxious crescendo.

“You know, you’d be a lot prettier if you smiled once in a while,” she mused, fluttering her lashes. No wonder women hated it when men said that. “I don’t have time to smile.” “I don’t have time to smile,” she mimicked in an annoying voice. “Your maturity peaked in preschool.” “Aww, did Pouty Man Face get his feelings hurt?” “You’re fired, Maleficent.” “Good luck with that, Charming.”

“Hey, Mal, why don’t you try sexually harassing men on your own time?” Ally piped up, leaning over her wall. “Some of us are trying to eat here, and your praying mantis routine is nauseating.”

“That was a close one,” Ally observed, taking another bite of banana. “She almost took your balls with her.” “Yeah. After ripping your face off to get to them.”

He was back to snarky, and I wished his crappy attitude would take his wow factor down a few notches. But my lady parts were steadfastly holding up their perfect ten scores.

“Is there anything else? How about a tasty little pastry to go with your coffee?” “Be gone, woman.” I’d managed all of three steps before I heard Linus’s stage whisper. “Blueberry scone.”

“Linus, I have zero money. Like ‘if I see a penny, I will pick it up’ have no money.” “Don’t be annoying. I’m gifting these to you like a black, crabby Santa.”

“Thanks. I can’t. I have a dance class to teach.” He wiggled the flask. “It’s not alcohol. It’s a super greens formula. It’s the reason I look like I’m forty-five when I’m actually 107.” Curious, I sipped and winced. “Beauty is pain,” he quipped. “And bitterness apparently,”

Harry was silent, and I looked up. He was sniffing the air. “You smell that?” he asked. I knew where this was going. “I do not.” “I do. It’s strong. Here. Let me waft it toward you,” he said, flicking his hands at me. “That’s the smell of bullshit.”

Fuck me against office equipment? I’d put that in the “Obsess About This Later” folder.

“Look, you had your chance. You made it crystal clear that you have no desire to… get coffee with me,” I said to Dominic. “Coffee?” “It’s a euphemism. There’s Bible studying happening here,” I hissed into the phone. “Deal with it.”

I wondered if I was leaving a trail of body glitter behind me like I was a Questionable Life Choices Tinkerbell.

Fortunately for all involved, the compensation section of the contract caught my eye and convinced me that my dignity could indeed be purchased.

I couldn’t work with this kind of tension. I needed to develop a drinking problem stat.

He held out his hand. A pair of gold-dusted stilettos dangled by their straps from his fingers. “You’ll wear these, and you won’t whine about how much they hurt.” I nodded dutifully. I was an obedient Cinderella.

“Honey, I don’t know what that was about,” the bartender said, staring after the men. “But Vest Guy looks like he can’t decide if he wants to spank you or devour you.” I blinked. “So I’m not imagining it?” “That was a code nuclear. If I had lady parts and took him to bed, I’d be concerned about my vagina spontaneously exploding.” It was a real concern. “I think I need another drink.” “I think you do too,”

“Would any of you lovely ladies like to try⁠—” “Not now, Carl!” I yelled at the approaching server with his tray of butterflied shrimp. The man ran off with his appetizers.

“Wait a second. Grumpy HR Jasmine, the mid-sneeze immortalizer, goes clubbing with jazz singers?” I asked. “You know what? Never mind. Please continue.”

“He’s looking at you right now,” Nina said without moving her lips, which made it all the more suspicious. Everyone but me whipped around to zero in on Dominic. “Definitely wants to throw her off a roof.” “After he gives her like ten orgasms.” “Can I please be you when I grow up?”

“Ally, you’re the kind of fairy tale we all need,” Nina insisted. “Poor country bumpkin⁠—” “Hey, I’m from Jersey, jerk.” Nina waved me off. “Shh! I’m telling a story here. Poor Jersey bumpkin comes to the big city and catches the eye of the gorgeous, grumpy boss who refuses to fall for anyone. But there’s something special about her. Something he’s never seen before in a woman.” “I want to be special,” Missie whined.

“I don’t want anything serious,” I whispered on a shiver when he brushed a kiss to the corner of my mouth. My lips burned with the need to feel his. His laugh was gentle, but I still heard the sound of prison doors slamming shut. “Oh, sweetheart, you no longer have a choice.”

“As of last night, Ally and I are in a relationship. You’re the first to know. Well, besides a Romanian woman who broke into Ally’s house.”

Ally: You guys! I lost my phone in my meager box of possessions that I’ve packed and unpacked four times since I started here. Everything is fine. I’ve been reassigned because…*going through a tunnel* Gola: ? Ruth: Don’t you do the fade away thing on us! We will hunt you down in Graphics and make you spill everything! Ally: Hehe. I was just messing with you. Ladies, I’d like you two to be the first to know that Dominic Russo and I are… Gola: Going to jail? Ruth: Being fired for embezzlement? Gola: Donating your paychecks to a worthy cause? Ruth: Moving to Kentucky to start a bourbon distillery? Ally: Dating. Ally: OMG! Ruth, was that you screaming? Ruth: Oops. You heard that? I got your text in the stairwell. It was more of a squeal.

“I think I pulled a hamstring,” he whispered. “I think you impregnated my lungs.”

Brownie and I were both sleeping in Dom’s t-shirts. Me because I missed him and Brownie because it was hilarious.

“You have to admit, it was the worst possible thing I could have done.” “Not the worst. You could have cheated on her in her own bed, and when she walked in on you, you could have chopped off one or two of her limbs. Or you could have accidentally nudged her grandmother with your car eight years ago so everyone in the family had to spend Thanksgiving in the emergency department.” “That last one sounds a little specific for fictionalized moral lessons.” “Yeah, so I accidentally hit Delaney’s grandma with the car. To be fair, the woman hated me, and I swear she jumped behind me at the last second. That woman would have been willing to break a femur to make a point. Anyway, she was fine, and Delaney and I recovered. You can too.”