21I tried to ignore fate’s message.
Most of my coworkers have been men. I wasn’t immune to their charms.
But I refused to be the office inkwell. The pen controls the narrative.
I write my own story.
I find my bedmates off the job.
Either of the other men on my list was a wiser choice.
Hiring an inferior candidate was not a smart move.
Today, I found myself stuck in the same loop.
Frustrated, I went into the bathroom.
Phoned Marina.
Told her I’d kidnapped Vicky. We’d drive home on Wednesday.
Wouldn’t reach Chantilly until after five o’clock.
I urged her to extend her Baltimore visit another day.
She was delighted to do so. Satisfied, I ended the call.
My house would be vacant for most of tomorrow, July fifth.
Another piece of my cover nailed down.
When I vacated the bathroom
