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Henry’s eyes flickered behind the spreadsheets and quarterly reports. Until, inevitably, he received another annoying text from his on/off girlfriend, Kelly, who was angry that he was at the office on a Saturday. “You shouldn’t put up with that,” I said, flatly. “She knows you’re working this weekend. Why does she have to start a fight with you about it?”
He stared at his laptop. “She’s my girlfriend,” he finally muttered, as if the definition mattered more than the drama. I leaned forward and the scent of my strawberry perfume wrapped around the table. I was furious that, yet again, Kelly had a burr up her ass and wanted to make Henry pay for it. Not to mention the fact that it had been a long, sexless winter for me and I was ready and willing to help him forget all about that bitch.










