Chapter Text
There is something that most men don’t ever admit: we quite frankly don’t care about your personality. Now, there are a few handfuls that will be adamant about their preference for that bullshit, but the fact of the matter is, it’s a lie. A nice pair of legs, perky tits, plump ass, flat stomach, and a pretty face can get you just about anything compared to a “nice personality”. Men like women who are pretty to look at, no matter how much they say that they’re the exception. We’re all superficial.
Now, if a choice presents itself on two women who are hot but one of them is a bitch and the other is not, we’ll probably go with the nicer one. At the end of the day, if the bitch was up against an ugly fat chick with the most alluring personality, the bitch wins.
We don’t give a fuck if you’re athletic, creative, artistic, talented, kind, mean, uptight, easygoing, or any shit like that. Though we’ll say we care. All we really want is someone whose small waist curves out to a fat ass that we can bounce our cocks on.
You may find me shallow, but I say I’m honest. Do I paste this fact on my forehead and shout it to the world? No. I fuck and date hot women and look down on those who aren’t. Actions speak louder than words.
For example, I enjoy fucking the thin, hot bimbo in HR, but the fat, frumpy girl in front of me right now could offer me a million dollars and I still wouldn’t fuck her.
“I should have noticed that, sir. I-I’m so sorry.” Her bottom lip trembled as she rushed the words out. Her fingers worked faster, picking at the hangnail on her left thumb. How pathetic.
“I believe this is the fifth oversight of yours this week. Far more than anyone has ever had working here. Considering your resume, it’s a wonder you were even able to land an interview.
I could hear the sharp inhale of her voice as she stiffened in the chair.
“I’m sorry, sir. It-it won’t happen again, I’ll be more-“
“And how many times have you promised the same? Surely Max wouldn’t have brought this to my attention if he believed you.”
She pulled her bottom lip under her teeth, nibbling on the flesh nervously.
“It’s just… it’s been a tough week for me, sir. T-there’s been some personal issues…”
I sighed, not bothering to mask my annoyance.
“Gee, well if that’s the case,” I said sarcastically. “You’ll correct this mistake, Ms. Coleman. Your performance will be under review, I suggest you ensure that you keep your word. Make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
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My hands shook as I took in another deep breath.
Inhale.
Exhale.
I am strong. I am worthy. I am enough.
I am strong. I am worthy. I am enough.
I repeat the chant over and over again until I felt the shake in my hands start to subside. I wasn’t sure how long I had been in this stall, silently trying to pull myself together. It wasn’t the first time I had been driven to lick my wounds in the company bathrooms and it certainly won’t be the last. Well, that is if I don’t get fired before then.
Tearing off a piece of toilet paper, I used it to dry my eyes and nose. I couldn’t stay hiding forever, I had a report to revise, a motion to draft, appointments to schedule, and two cases in need of research. I took in another shaky breath. It would be another long night, I had better get started.
As I approached my cubicle, I could hear the snickers from the others. I’m sure news of my reprimanding with a senior partner had already traveled, an office like this thrived on other’s downfall. Working in a top law firm, anything less than perfection was looked down upon. I was surrounded by type-A personalities and in this environment, work ethic wasn’t the only thing people were anal about. It extended beyond the workplace. They had a need to perfect even the minuscule parts of their life. Those who fell short of even having the proper accent was immediately cast aside.
I was the anomaly. The reject.
I didn’t dress, look, or behave like they did. It didn’t matter if I worked twice as hard as everyone else did, I wasn’t pleasing to look at. Just because I didn’t spend those two hours in the gym at 4AM every morning before work meant that I wasn’t strong enough. It only further proved what my parents and siblings thought of me.
I ignored the rising gossip and repeated my mantra.
I am strong. I am worthy. I am enough.
I started first with revising the mistakes on the report that had landed me in Price’s office.
Mr. Price. Everyone in the office was free to call one another by their first names, everyone but me. Another one of their power plays.
After revising and sending the report, I got started on drafting the motion to dismiss for Dalton, one of the new associates at the firm. The only one who has been nice to me, possibly because of his lack of knowledge that I wasn’t the most popular person in the office. He started a month ago, it was only a matter of time before he was brainwashed by the others to alienate me.
Call me bitter and pitiful all you want, I talk from experience.
It took me three hours to draft and edit the motion. I sent a copy to Dalton via email before printing a physical copy to hand in as well. Making my way towards the associate’s cubicles, I poked my head in his.
“Hey, I finished that motion to dismiss for you. Here’s the physical copy.”
He raised his face to meet mine with a smile.
“Wow, already? Thanks, Pen. You’re a lifesaver.”
I gave him a small smile in return. Dalton was attractive, like the others, but with how fresh out of law school he was, he had an air of innocence around him. There was as pang in my heart knowing how this job could dim that.
“No problem. Let me know when you’re ready for me to file it for you.”
“Will do. You’re the best.”
I was on my way to the break room for a late lunch when I saw Price and Jenson heading the same way. Jenson was the other third of the law firm Price Osborne Jenson. I immediately turned back around, not wanting another interaction. Guess the late lunch will have to be later.
I spent the time scheduling some court dates for a senior associate and started the research report on a company facing charges for OSHA violations. When I was a quarter of the way into the report, I was finally feeling the effects of missing lunch. Saving and closing the document, I finally made my way back towards the break room.
I was halfway through my leftover chicken cacciatore with fried polenta when a gaggle of girls entered the room. It was Bethany, Stella, and Wendy. Bethany and Stella were junior associates while Bethany, like me was a paralegal. They paused when they saw me. Mouths turned up in a sneer.
Great, three more people that hated my guts.
The three of them sat a couple tables from me with their takeout containers.
“Ugh, Stella, your salad looks amazing. You got the garlic roasted chicken one, right?” Wendy asked.
“Yep, with the Greek yogurt dressing. That one’s wayyy healthier than the Italian.”
“Looks so good. I think I’ll get that next time.”
“Nothing like a salad for lunch. I can’t imagine having something else. I would be sooo bloated if I did.”
They three of them snickered, throwing a glance towards me. I struggled to contain an eye roll.
“So true,” Bethany added. “I have to be so careful with what I eat, or I’d puff up. I can’t imagine indulging on carbs and all that.”
The bite I swallowed felt like sandpaper in my throat. I tried not to let their words get to me, after all, they were the same things my mother had pointed out again and again. I had always been a few pounds overweight which my mother always sought to “cure”. Diets, exercises, verbal discipline, she’s tried it all. My therapist tells me that as long as I am happy with myself, I shouldn’t let her expectations control my life. But the truth is, I wasn’t happy.
Packing the rest of my food up, I got out of the room, ignoring their giggles of victory.
It was 7PM when I finally finished the second report. The office was pretty much empty, aside from the few senior associates still working. I was the only paralegal that ever stayed this late.
Emailing the last report, I finally grabbed my things to go home. The ride on the C took 15 minutes and it was another 10-minute walk to my studio. I put on the new medical drama I started to run in the background as I started on dinner. I had marinated some chicken the previous night in preparation for chicken tikka masala. I’ve made the dish before but could never get it as good as the restaurant down the street. Hopefully I was successful this time.
With the chicken grilling in the oven and the basmati rice going in a rice cooker, I got started on the sauce. I focused on each step and ingredients, letting the stress of my day melt away.
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The three of us watched as the hot blonde stumbled her way back to our table. Reid had been buying her shots after shots, no doubt preparing to fuck her tonight. He liked his women drunk and defenseless while Trent liked the fight. I personally enjoyed breaking a woman down slowly. Stripping them of their self-importance, making them needy. Although I can’t say I’ve never drugged anyone.
“I definitely saw tears, she went straight to the bathrooms after,” Reid said.
“She’s pathetic, we should really check to see if Carla’s lost it,” Trent replied.
I ignore the two of them. Carla is the hiring manager at the firm, hired by the previous partners. She had worked there longer than we’ve practiced law. With how strict she was, it was surprising she would allow anyone less than exceptional be hired. I wasn’t sure how in the world someone like her had managed to get hired. Although I made that statement about her resume, I’ve never actually seen it. It was more to make a point than anything.
I finished off my whiskey, signaling to the waitress for a refill.
“To be fair, I don’t think anyone makes it out Carter’s office without crying,” Trent pointed out.
“What about Stella?” Reid said with a smirk.
“Oh, she definitely cries for him, but’s it’s more like,” Trent raised the pitch of his voice, “ah ah ah Carterrr~.”
Reid laughed as I rolled my eyes.
“Real funny,” I muttered.
“Oh, come on, don’t be so anal. Thought you’d be all loose after reaming Penelope a new one. It’s funny how she s-s-stutters when someone reprimands her.”
“It’s not funny, it’s pathetic and annoying. She’s incompetent, I would’ve fired her today if I could.” The waitress set a new glass in front of me, lingering for a moment with her eyes on me.
Eyes too far apart. Great tits, tough. Could do shots off those babies.
“Maybe we don’t have to fire her. I know someone so charming, so charismatic, so-“
“Manipulative?” Reid finished.
“I was going to say convincing, but that works too.”
“I don’t know what you’re suggesting, but if it’s what I think it is, you’re out of your fucking mind,” I said.
“You can make any girl do whatever you want, surely you can handle someone like her?”
“I take my time with women I want to fuck. I do not want to fuck Penelope Coleman.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Reid’s blonde slurred out.
Reid slung his arms behind her and pulled her closer. “Oh baby, let’s say you’re Gigi Hadid and she’s… she’s… wow, I got nothing.”
“She’s not pleasing to look at,” Trent answered.
“Like, she’s ugly or something?” the blonde asked.
“She doesn’t take care of herself for sure. Not a single ounce of makeup, her clothes are ugly too. Overweight as well,” Trent said.
“Ugh, yeah, sounds like a major loser,” she said.
Reid laughed. “You want another shot?” The blonde laughed and nodded. Yeah, she was so fucked.
“I’ll give you ten thousand if you fuck her and get her to quit.”
Reid and I turned towards Trent. Our eyes widened.
“You’re insane,” I said.
“What? I want to see if you can actually do it. Don’t tell me the great Carter Price can’t break Penelope Coleman?”
“Goading me won’t work, I don’t want anything to do with her, much less fuck her.”
“I’ll add ten too, that’s twenty thousand total just to fuck a girl and get her to quit,” Reid added.
“Don’t join him, it’s literally crazy. I’m not doing it.”
“One hundred. Each,” Trent looked at Reid. Reid shrugged. “I can do that.”
I looked at the two of them like they’ve both grown two heads and laughed.
“I can’t believe the two of you are my best friends,” I shook my head. “Five hundred from each of you.”
“Deal,” Trent agreed.
“Deal,” Reid added.
“I hate you guys,” I mumbled before downing the rest of my whiskey. I was wrong. I guess I would fuck the fat, frumpy girl for a million dollars.
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I arrived at the office at 7AM the next day with two cups of coffee and two donuts from the coffee shop near the office. I dropped a cup and a donut off at the reception desk where Thomas, the security guard, sat.
“You spoil me Ms. Coleman.”
“Thank for keeping us safe, Thomas. Have a good day.”
“You too.”
After dropping my lunch off in the fridge, I made my way to my cubicle and started on a list of tasks that I wanted to accomplish today. This past week had been tough for me. After reflecting last night, I realized that Price was right, five mistakes was unacceptable at one of the most prestigious law firms in the country. I could blame it on the disastrous dinner with my family last weekend all I wanted, but I had to suck it up and put on my big girl panties. It also helped texting my therapist last night during dinner. I need to thank Rita the next time I have a one-on-one session with her.
It was around 7:42AM when I heard someone else arrive. I was usually the first one here since I was typically assigned more work than the other paralegals. I poked my head out of my cubicle to glance over at the elevators, immediately retreating when I saw the man coming out.
Oh crud. Of course it’s him.
I scribbled another item onto my list before opening the reply from Dalton on the motion I wrote yesterday.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: You Rock!
This is the best motion I’ve ever read. You are the GOAT.
Thanks again,
Dalton Mercer
Junior Associate | Price Osborne Jenson
I felt the corner of my mouth lift up in a smile. I never knew how much I craved a normal interaction with a coworker until Dalton joined. At first, I had been surprised when he approached me, but I soon saw that he was friendly with everyone. He was charming, sweet, and-
“Some good news I hope.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood as my entire body tensed. The low, deep voice that sounded from behind me resembled a lot like the one that had tore into me just yesterday.
I must be hallucinating. I’m going to turn around and NOT see Price.
I must have done terrible acts in my past life because there he was, all six feet and four inches of him, standing at the opening of my cubicle. He filled the small space, physically and metaphorically. When my eyes met his cold green eyes, they immediately dropped. I opened my mouth to greet him, but my body must have gone into shock because nothing came out.
“You’re here early, Ms. Coleman. I’m impressed.”
If he had paid the slightest attention to her before, he would have known that I came in early every morning.
“Wanted to get a head start, sir.” I waited a moment, hoping that was enough to send him away. But he didn’t move. Maybe he was expecting something. Of course! He probably just wanted to make sure I wasn’t screwing up again.
“I-I’m really sorry about yesterday, Mr. Price. The personal issues I had before, they-they’ve been resolved. You won’t h-hear another incident f-from me.” I cringed at my stuttering.
“Well, I have to admit, I was a bit… harsh on you yesterday. It had been the first time that I have had a compliant about your work. I just wanted to inform you that your performance will no longer be under direct review.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! I raised my eyes back to his, looking for any signs of deceit. Instead, his features were… soft. They didn’t hold the contempt that were so prevalent in them just yesterday. Even his lips, the ones that were always set in a harsh straight line, had a sight warm curve to it.
Ok, I’m past hallucinations. I must have died in my sleep last night.
“I… thank you, sir. I am grateful for your leniency.”
“Hmm, well, I won’t keep you any longer Ms. Coleman. You have a nice day.”
“You-you too, sir.”
I watched as he made his way back to the elevators. I sat there for a good 10 minutes replaying the conversation before snapping out of my trance. I doubt there was anything deeper in the conversation, just a boss letting off an employee for their mistakes. No matter how many times I told myself it had been a normal interaction, I couldn’t help hoping that it was a sign. A sign that maybe things will get better.
I was still dumb founded by the interaction with Price this morning as I stood in front of the microwave, waiting for the leftover chicken tikka masala to heat up. I had even pinched myself a couple times since this morning to make sure that I hadn’t dreamt the whole ordeal up.
“Mmm, what’re you heating up? It smells good.”
I jumped, let out a gasp, and turned around quickly, placing my hand to my heart.
“D-Dalton! You trying to give me a heart attack?”
Dalton chuckled. “My bad, Pen. You scare so easily, it’s fun seeing your reaction.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, so fun,” I said sarcastically.
“I’m serious though, whatever you’re heating up smells so good.”
“It’s just some leftover chicken tikka masala that I made last night,” I said as I pulled it out of the microwave. Grabbing a disposable fork, I made my way to an empty table. I was surprised when Dalton plopped down beside me. Although he’s been friendly to me since he was hired, we’ve never actually had lunch together. He was pretty popular already and usually ate with the other junior associates.
“Damn, it looks good too.” He opened his own takeout container. It was some kind of last-minute slap-something-together sandwich and some chips.
“Uhhh, yours too,” I tried my best to sound sincere.
“Thanks for humoring me, Pen.” He unwrapped his sandwich and took a big bite. “You said you made it yourself last night? From scratch and all that?”
“Well, I didn’t raise the chicken if that’s what you’re asking. I bought the ingredients at the store. I did make my own Greek yogurt though. Well, I used store bought Greek yogurt to make it, but I guess I multiplied it?” I let my voice trail off in the end, a little embarrassed rambling about food in front of Dalton. How was I this socially inept?
“You make your own yogurt? I’m impressed.”
I couldn’t help but blush at the compliment.
“Y-you can have a bite if you want,” my blush deepened. “I-I mean, you don’t have to,” I rushed out and let out a nervous chuckle, “sorry, that was weird, you don’t-“
“Can I? I’ve never had chicken tikka masala, I am a dud in the kitchen.”
“Uh, yeah. Let me go get you a fork.”
“No need.”
Before I knew what he was doing, he picked up my fork and scooped a bite into his mouth. I watched his face to see his reaction. I let my shoulders relax when I saw the expression on his face.
“That’s delicious!” He took another scoop. “You’re smart and a good chef.”
I couldn’t help but preen under his praise. It felt so good, so addic-
A throat cleared in front of us, and our attention shifted to the figure before us. Price stood there, a hard look in his eyes.
“Now this is a sight,” he said.
“Hey Carter,” Dalton acknowledged with a smile, “did you know our very own Penelope Coleman can cook?” He draped arm over my shoulders, pulling me to his side.
I turned to give him a look of horror, but he was stilling facing Price. I turned back to the man in front of us. He lips were set in a hard line, eyes seemingly unamused.
“I don’t suppose the two of you need a refresher on our policy regarding office romance.”
Dalton let out an amused chuckles while my ears burned. I shrugged out of his hold.
“N-no, sir,” I rushed out, not wanting him to misunderstand. Dalton tended to be straightforward, I’m not sure he thought someone could misinterpret his actions. “Dalton and I were just having lunch.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, the corners of his lips curled downwards. He let out a grunt I couldn’t interpret.
“And afterwards, we’re going to the utility closet to make out,” Dalton added nonchalantly.
My eyes widened in shock, mouth gaping open. My eyes darted to the other tables. Thankfully, most of the people had went back to work and the people left weren’t really paying the three of us any attention. I looked back at Price.
“He’s j-just joking, sir. We-we didn’t- we weren’t going to-“
“Dalton, come with me,” Price turned, obviously expecting Dalton to follow.
Dalton grabbed his lunch with a laugh. “Gotta go, Pen. Boss’s expecting me.”
I was still in shock by the time he made it to the door where Price waited for him.
“W-wait!” I cried out, voice tinged with worry. The two of them turned towards me. I looked at Price. “He really was joking, please don’t p-punish him.”
He didn’t reply, just turned to walk out. Dalton gave me a wink as he followed.
I plopped back down in my seat, my appetite gone. Dumping my barely eaten lunch, I headed back to my cubicle. I tried my best to focus on my task list, but there was a constant worry in the back of my mind.