When she saw the "typing…" indicator appear at the top of the chat, Jenna quickly deleted the messages and sent me an emoji of a cat begging for forgiveness.
[Oops! Meant to send those to my bestie, but accidentally sent them to you. I was just messing around--don't be mad! Brandon's already knocked out.]
She probably expected me to blow up her phone with angry calls, like I had before.
But this time, I just blocked her and went back to sleep.
Whether she was playing games or being serious didn't matter anymore.
The next morning, they showed up at work together.
Jenna, always trying to be delicate, tripped over her own feet, her face going pale with fear.
Without hesitation, Brandon scooped her up and carried her into the office.
Her cheeks flushed, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, glancing back at me with a smug grin.
One of my coworkers sidled up to me, whispering, "Can you believe that girl? Jenna doesn't even know how to work the copier, let alone anything else. How has she been Mr. Louis's secretary for half a year? You don't think he's, like, actually into her, do you?"
I was busy texting my lawyer and nodded absentmindedly. "Maybe."