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A major thorn in my side.
Devina is difficult to deal with, but Jack is impossible.
For months and months, I’ve done my best to be professional in my interactions with Jack Morgan. But every time I see his name or work email, I clench my teeth.
When I interact with him on work platforms, I think the same things: He’s reckless, dumb, and too confident for his own good.
It bugs me to no end that he promises big things to clients without a clue how to deliver. Bravado and swagger make for a good salesperson, but they make for a pretty lame person as a whole.
I figured Jack Morgan was a nightmare in real life: cocky, suave, a real ladies’ man.
I knock the back of my head gently against the door.
Shoot.
Did I fall under his spell today because of all those things?
I mean, I was attracted to his confidence right away. I liked how he looked me directly in the eyes. I lapped up his compliments. He literally swept me up in his arms, and I swooned like a damsel in distress.
The whole evening, I was like the typical wallflower at a school dance, getting wooed by the talkative Prom King. Blossoming in his presence. I opened up to him.
It felt like a dream come true, but now I see it from a new perspective.
Wallflowers don’t end up with Prom Kings. That’s just not how the story goes.
Jack Morgan charmed me. I let it happen… and chalked it up to good luck.
Welp.
It was not good luck. This is awful.
I can’t believe I let this happen. I should have figured out who he was at some point between the hot tub and our goodnight smooch.
I mean… we talked.
A lot.
Didn’t work come up?
I know it did. I mentioned how I work from home. I’m pretty sure I made some stupid joke about how, most days, I don’t get dressed until the afternoon. He said he works remotely, too, but can’t stand sitting at a desk. “I cruise around in my truck all day, on the phone for most of it.”
We traded stories about poor management and the ups and downs of working for big companies… and then moved on.
There’s the problem. We never said exactly what each of us was doing—me from my desk, him from his truck.
And we never brought up company names.
Or… name.
We’re both employed by the same company: Buzzy Digital Marketing. We have the same manager. The same pool of clients. I have exchanged hundreds of emails with Jack Morgan, and if the pattern continues, as patterns tend to do, my future holds hundreds more.
How the heck am I supposed to ever deal with him about work stuff again after what we just did?
The thought of forging forward in my professional life after this big of a blunder makes me want to crawl under a rock and stay there for a couple of years. Not to mention the fact that going out to a lovey-dovey dinner that ends with a kiss is definitely against company rules.
What have I done?
I bury my head in my hands and just wait as a wave of shame and embarrassment washes over me.
