“How do you get home from here?” he asked. “Train,” I said, taking a bite. He reached for his wallet. “I’d rather you take a cab.” “No.” “No?” He sounded like he couldn’t believe I was so stupid, so impertinent. I rolled my eyes. “I’m not yours, Dom. You don’t get to worry about me or play protector. You’re my boss. I’m your employee. Unless you’re forking up cab fare or Uber credits for all the admins on staff, the answer is no. No special treatment. No extracurricular sex. No seduction attempts. No flirting. The air is cleared.” He stared at me a long beat. Those eyes impossibly sad. It’s
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