Page 8 of Croc Food

“What’s happening?” Zach asked in his smarmy fashion. “Trouble at home?”

I was so pissed I could’ve strangled him. Pissed mostly at myself, but at him too, for making those little comments about her he had tried to pass off as jokes.

“No, of course not. And I want you to shut up about Bitsy, dude. Don’t let me hear you making any little jokes about her again. I love my wife and if you talk any shit about her I’ll punch you in the fucking mouth.”

Zack snorted.

“Yeah, idiot. Of course you love her. She’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. Blue hair, too? Like damn. Everyone’s jealous of you. Especially Kyle. His wife is boring as fuck.”

My tie was choking me as I desperately tried to wrangle the knot free.

“What the hell? You said her lunches were cringe. That she was corny. You said she was the reason I couldn’t get the promotion.”

Zach’s jaw dropped and he stared at me.

“I was just playing mind games with you! And you believed it? Bahahahahaha. Idiot.”

Fuckkkkkkkk

I had to get out of here. I had to make this right with Bitsy.

“You’re a bastard.”

But he’d already perked up and was hovering at the edge of his chair.

“Wait, can I have her number if you guys are splitting?” he shouted as I sprinted down the hall.

“We’re not splitting!” I hollered. “Ever!”

Fuck, I was going to have to tell my boss I had to go. Even though I had a presentation on new client strategies scheduled for later that afternoon. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t go another minute without making this right with Bitsy.

Mr. Van Buren was not going to be happy, but right now that didn’t matter. I bolted down the hallway to his office.

My tie felt like it was strangling me.

“Excuse me, sir,” I gasped as I burst in, and unfortunately Kyle happened to be right there, but I didn’t care right now. “I need to take the rest of the day off. Personal reasons.”

“Are you really planning to take personal time right before your presentation?” Mr. Van Buren asked, adjusting his glasses. “It’s a very important board meeting.”

He said personal time like you might say a bite of shit.

“Yes, sir, I am. I’m sorry. I would love to reschedule as soon as I get back.”

Kyle could barely contain his smug smirk, but at this point I couldn’t think about anything besides Bitsy.

“Well,” my boss said, “I can’t legally tell you not to take your personal time.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I promised, not caring that he clearly didn’t approve.

Her workplace was only downstairs, but I couldn’t wait for the elevator. I took those damn stairs four at a time, slipping on my stupid slick wingtips.

My wife still wasn’t answering the phone. Maybe she was just busy. Maybe nothing was wrong and I was overreacting. . .

But somehow I couldn’t go the rest of the day without making this right.

“Can I talk to Bitsy?” I gasped, grabbing the front door of The Sloppy Joe and pulling myself around like a cartoon character.

Her assistant manager gave me a strange look.