This is bullshit. Pure and utter bullshit. I shouldn’t have to be doing this. But, of course, I’m going to. Because this is bullshit.

I’ve gathered my entire team into the conference room for this shit. All of them stare at me with wide, nervous eyes. I don’t regularly call emergency meetings bright and early in the morning, or even really at all. But this situation is different. Completely different since it’s not even really about work at all.

“Does anyone know why I’ve called all of you in here this morning?”

Last week, I found you crying in the utilities closet. I was heading out for the day and noticed you weren’t at your desk when I swung by. It’s kind of our thing. You swing by my office in the morning with coffee, and I swing by yours at the end of the day for a quick kiss on the cheek. Since we decided to make our relationship public a few months ago, it’s our normal. So, when I didn’t see you, I panicked. Searching everywhere until I found you in distress.

I should’ve seen this coming. I should’ve known better. Especially with our age difference playing a part in all of this. You’re 24 and I’m 30. It’s not my fault I fell for you! It’s neither of our faults. It happened naturally after seeing each other every day at work. And it’s good.

So, why the hell do my employees think they have a right to comment on it?

When I had calmed you down enough in the closet, you told me of the whispers you’d heard. People calling you my ‘sugar baby’ or saying you were a gold digger. The worst is that they say you’re trying to sleep your way to the top, to get special treatment from me. It’s all ridiculous. And I have to put a stop to it.

“I’m positive you’re all briefed on the harassment and bullying protocols here seeing as we do a yearly review on them, no?” The group all murmurs back, still nervous. “If that’s so, then why am I hearing preposterous accusations about one of our own?” No one dares to speak. “Well, until the person or people confess, I’ll be docking all of your pay. Effective immediately.”

That gets them talking. But I don’t listen. I stand from my seat at the head of the table and walk out, leaving them to point fingers at each other. I find you leaning against the wall just outside the conference room, eavesdropping.

“Come on, sweetheart. We’re going to breakfast.”