Watching My Boss Brag About Stealing My Boyfriend

While slacking off on the clock, a post of Slack Channel popped up on my phone. [I have a massive crush on the new intern. Problem is, his girlfriend is also an intern here. Advice?] The top comment read: [If he has a girlfriend, back off. Are you seriously considering becoming the office homewrecker?] But the original poster fired back with a long response. [Okay, here’s my deal: I’m thirty, unmarried, and completely financially secure—car, condo, savings. Aside from being eight years older than him, I have his girlfriend beat on pretty much everything else.] [I finally found someone I actually like. Am I really supposed to just walk away?] Immediately, a flood of commenters jumped in to offer advice. [They just graduated, they haven’t faced the real world yet, no stress, no professional rivalry. Stir the pot a little and they’ll break up, guaranteed.] [Support the poster! Go get your man. I agree with the above. Start being overly nice to his girlfriend. That’ll make the guy feel off-balance and guilty. Once a couple starts fighting over work, it’s game over.] [Bonus tip: You’re management. Just block her promotion. Then it’s just you and him left in the company.] I muttered a curse under my breath—seriously, what a psycho—and immediately forgot about the thread. That afternoon, however, the Department Director, Miranda Shaw, called me and my boyfriend into her office. “A major, high-value feature just landed,” she announced. “Whoever lands the exclusive interview for this project gets a guaranteed fast-track to full-time.”

Chapter 1 While slacking off on the clock, a Reddit post popped up on my phone. [I have a massive crush on the new intern. Problem is, his girlfriend is also an intern here. Advice?] The top comment read: [If he has a girlfriend, back off. Are you seriously considering becoming the office homewrecker?] But the original poster fired back with a long response. [Okay, here’s my deal: I’m thirty, unmarried, and completely financially secure—car, condo, savings. Aside from being eight years older than him, I have his girlfriend beat on pretty much everything else.] [I finally found someone I actually like. Am I really supposed to just walk away?] Immediately, a flood of commenters jumped in to offer advice. [They just graduated, they haven’t faced the real world yet, no stress, no professional rivalry. Stir the pot a little and they’ll break up, guaranteed.] [Support the poster! Go get your man. I agree with the above. Start being overly nice to his girlfriend. That’ll make the guy feel off-balance and guilty. Once a couple starts fighting over work, it’s game over.] [Bonus tip: You’re management. Just block her promotion. Then it’s just you and him left in the company.] I muttered a curse under my breath—seriously, what a psycho—and immediately forgot about the thread. That afternoon, however, the Department Director, Miranda Shaw, called me and my boyfriend into her office. “A major, high-value feature just landed,” she announced. “Whoever lands the exclusive interview for this project gets a guaranteed fast-track to full-time.”

1 Hearing those words, my stomach tightened. It was probably because of the ridiculous post I’d just read, but I instantly flashed back to the comments. I shook my head a second later, trying to physically jettison the thought. What were the chances of a coincidence that absurd? The world wasn’t a bad romance novel. I heard my boyfriend, Owen Grant, say, “No problem, Miranda.” I quickly chimed in with, “I’m on it.” Miranda nodded, satisfied with our responses, and waved us out. She was nothing like the psycho in the comments. It was just a crazy coincidence. I put the whole thing out of my mind. As soon as we were out of the office, Owen and I made a verbal pact. “No matter who wins, no pouting,” I said, holding out my hand. “And whoever gets the interview, the winner buys dinner to celebrate,” he added, shaking my hand vigorously. We both laughed, a shared, easy sound. We knew when we decided to intern at the same company that there would be competition. But neither of us thought it would ever jeopardize our relationship. For the past month, we’d adapted beautifully. We didn’t have to worry about fitting in, going to work, eating lunch, and leaving together every day. We were a couple, but we were also each other’s primary support system. I’d told him more than once how much I loved our life exactly as it was. Owen had always agreed. That night, though, we didn’t drive home together. We went our separate ways. I figured Owen would take the direct route and try to stake out the CEO’s office. So I decided to go rogue. I tracked down the CEO’s daughter. I’d heard Mr. Brad was completely devoted to her, and I figured leveraging that relationship was my best shot. The conversation went better than expected. Chloe promised she’d talk to her dad for me. My heart full of smug satisfaction, I headed home. When I walked in, I found Owen had already cooked dinner. He looked unusually pleased with himself. My heart did a tiny, nervous flop. Did I get here too late? Just as the thought crossed my mind, Owen walked over. “Babe, guess what? Mr. Brad already agreed to my interview. Looks like you were a step too slow, but don’t look so bummed!” His joy was obvious, but there wasn’t a hint of malice or gloating in it. And he’d cooked all my favorite dishes. I was genuinely happy for him. “Well then, congratulations on the early promotion!” I said, smiling. He stroked my hair and gave me a playful squeeze. “My girl is amazing; you’ll get yours soon enough. And when I get my first real paycheck, it’s all yours.” I nodded, not disappointed in the slightest. In fact, his words made my heart feel warm and sweet. So sweet, in fact, that I completely forgot to follow up with Chloe. I didn’t remember until the next morning. When I got to the office, Miranda Shaw called us both into her office again. I knew she was going to discuss the interview. I was ready for the inevitable professional dressing-down; that’s just how the corporate world works. But I wasn’t ready for what Miranda did next. She walked right up to me. “Lily,” she said, her smile wide and slightly unnerving. “Congratulations. You’ve been assigned the feature interview. Make us proud.” At her words, the happy smiles on both Owen’s and my face instantly froze. 2 I was the first to recover, my surprise giving way to confusion. “Miranda, I think there’s a misunderstanding. Owen secured the interview yesterday!” Owen, now catching up, frowned, though his expression was more confused than angry. “That’s right. Mr. Brad personally agreed to meet with me yesterday afternoon. Did something change?” Miranda looked genuinely surprised, though later I’d realize it was the performance of a lifetime. “That’s impossible,” she said. “Mr. Brad called me early this morning and specifically requested Lily Hayes for the interview.” I frowned, a deep, unsettling premonition sinking in my gut. Before I could speak, Miranda spoke to me in a warm, motherly tone. “Lily, I know you two are a couple, but there’s no need to sacrifice your work for him. You have the talent. Go get it.” Then she turned to Owen, her voice hardening slightly. “Owen, listen to me. Competition is completely normal in the workplace. Don’t worry. You missed this one, but there’ll be others.” Owen nodded, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face. But he still managed, “Of course. Whatever is best for the company.” Miranda smiled, gave a curt nod, and dismissed us. Outside the office, Owen turned to me. “It’s fine, babe. Seriously. You nail the interview and get the experience. Don’t feel any pressure from me.” I nodded absently, a knot still tightening in my stomach. Something felt deeply wrong. Just then, my phone buzzed with a message from Chloe Lin. Ah, this must be it. I immediately typed an apology and started to explain the mix-up, asking her to clarify things with her dad. Instead, she called me. “I can’t believe you!” she practically screamed. “I only helped you because you begged me to talk to my father! You took the interview from your own boyfriend and you’re not celebrating? Stop acting so innocent!” “Don’t ever contact me again!” She hung up, and the messages I sent immediately turned into a single exclamation point. I sighed, bewildered, and turned around. Owen was standing right behind me. He had clearly heard Chloe’s voice over the speaker. His face was a mask of disbelief and rage. I opened my mouth to explain. “Lily Hayes,” he said, his voice shaking. “If you wanted this interview, I would have stepped back without a fight. But setting up this kind of backstabbing scheme? That’s low.” I knew I hadn’t set him up. But I was certain someone had set me up. I was about to explain the situation with Chloe when Miranda’s voice cut in from behind me. “Owen Grant. My office. Now.” Owen didn’t emerge for nearly half an hour. By then, the office was buzzing, and I didn’t get a chance to talk to him. I finally caught up to him during the lunch break. He was already walking out the door. “I have something to do this afternoon,” he said coldly. “I won’t be joining you for lunch.” With that, he walked away. I knew he believed Chloe’s fabricated story. With no chance to explain face-to-face, I sent him a series of detailed texts. He didn’t reply. Not when he came back from lunch, and not by the time we left for the day. The drive home was silent. When we walked into our apartment, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Owen, did you see my mess—” I stopped. He had pulled a rolling suitcase out of the closet and was filling it. Panic gripped me. “Owen! What are you doing?” We’d been together since freshman year of college—four years. Was he breaking up with me over this? I grabbed his arm, trying to stop his frantic packing. “Lily, just focus on the interview. I’m going on a quick business trip with Miranda. We’ll talk when I get back,” he said, avoiding my eyes. “We both need a reset.” He pulled his arm free, grabbed the suitcase, and walked out the door. A trip with Miranda? A sudden, horrifying thought surfaced. Against my better judgment, I pulled out my phone, found the post, and clicked on it. The psycho had updated it. 3 [I set them up! Got my old contact to agree to the guy, then flip the interview to the girl. Today, they had a major fight in the break room.] [Just scheduled a business trip with him. Wish me luck, ladies!] Every single detail matched. I finally knew it. The post was Miranda Shaw’s. I couldn’t believe the brazen, professional manipulation. Below the update, the comments were piling up, eager for the next step. I was shaking with anger. My fingers flew across the screen. [This is psychopathic. You’re nothing but a predator.] Miranda replied almost instantly. [It’s called strategic ambition, sweetheart. The ends justify the means. If I can successfully ‘poach’ him, he’ll thank me for upgrading him.] Her logic was sickening, but I had to admit, she had a point—a truly cynical one. But before I could reply again, the trolls came out. Whoa, same IP address! Girlfriend alert! Stop fighting the poster and go get your man back! I knew they only wanted a spectacle. Two seconds later, my comment was deleted. I gritted my teeth, navigated to my contacts, and called Owen. He picked up almost immediately. “Lily, don’t explain. I saw your texts. I know this isn’t your fault! It’s complicated,” he said, his voice back to its old, gentle, reassuring tone. “I’ll bring you back a present when I get home.” Hearing his familiar voice, I felt the knot in my stomach loosen. He’s right. We had four years of history. We had trust. Why was I letting a psycho on a public forum make me doubt him? As Miranda herself had said, if she could truly steal him, then she was only helping me recognize him for what he was. My anger deflated. Still, I couldn’t stop myself from checking the thread. Miranda hadn’t updated, but Owen was texting me constantly, checking in, sending me photos of the city. It was as if our argument and the trip hadn’t even happened. I slowly started to relax. The night before he was due to return, we were on a long video call, the way we always did when we were apart. Then, I heard a knock on his hotel room door. A second later, I heard Miranda’s voice. “Owen, the shower in my room is busted. Can I use yours?” Owen sounded completely nonplussed. “Sure, no problem.” My heart jumped into my throat. I tried to interrupt, to demand he call me back, to say anything. But before I could, Owen abruptly hung up. My good mood evaporated. [Don’t hang up on me! Call me back NOW!] [Owen, I’m serious, I’m getting mad!] My messages went unanswered. I tried calling back, but it went straight to voicemail. After several agonizing minutes, he finally sent a text. [Lily, I’m busy. Talk later.] Busy doing what? What could a man and woman alone in a hotel room possibly be doing? I wanted to trust him. I truly did. But in that moment, I couldn’t. I kept refreshing my phone, waiting for his follow-up call, that promised “talk later.” By 3:00 AM, my heart felt cold and numb. I stopped texting. Instead, I opened the thread. I knew, somehow, it would be there. Miranda’s latest update was waiting for me. [I’ve been trying to initiate physical contact this whole trip. He keeps pulling away, but I can feel that he’s not resistant. We go back tomorrow. I used the ‘busted shower’ excuse to get into his room. Yes, we kissed. I asked him if he’d ever done that with his girlfriend. He said no.] [I asked him if he wanted to try it with me. He got heated, but in the end, he stopped. He said he couldn’t do that to his girlfriend.] [Ladies, what do I do now?] The words stabbed me like needles, leaving me breathless. I told myself Miranda was doing this to torture me, that it wasn’t true. But if it wasn’t true, why hadn’t Owen called? My eyes burned. I knew I was done. I was packing my bag. But before I could say the words, Owen beat me to it. “Lily, I’m putting in my two weeks’ notice.”