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noticed the other women in the office blush when he talks to them, especially Mindy. He’s also always willing to help out when I have a question or need some guidance balancing the books. But I have a feeling that he has a serious case of little man syndrome.
    At only five sevenish, he isn’t much taller than I am. And he seems to try to compensate for his lack of height with a larger-than-life personality and a monster truck. Jake spends the first hour of every Monday morning telling us all about the crazy exploits he had over the weekend, which usually involve big boats, parties, and women. That lifestyle sounds like it would be a blast—if I were twenty-one. But it only makes him sound like someone who’s trying too hard. And it’s a major turn-off.
    Regardless of if I am attracted to him, the thought that he’s interested in me is flattering. It’s been a while since I’ve even attempted a date, and for a second, I entertain the thought of saying yes.
    What’s the worst that could happen?
    Jake once more places his hand on my leg, this time much higher than before, and begins slowly rubbing his thumb back and forth, up and down the seam in my jeans. I’m instantly disgusted and find my voice.
    “No,” I say simply.
    He raises his eyebrows but continues to practically molest me with his thumb. “No?” he questions.
    “Jake, we work together. That would be inappropriate. I’m flattered—really. But no.” I try to keep the disdain out of my voice so as not to make things awkward at work on Monday.
    Without waiting for his response, I turn my body away from his and interrupt Mindy’s conversation.
    “Hey, lady. Thanks so much for putting this together. I’ve had a great night, but I’m beat. I think I’m gonna grab my check and then head home,” I tell her quickly. All I can think about is getting out of here and away from Jake’s wandering hands.
    Mindy shouts, “No way! We are supposed to go out dancing after this. I was looking forward to showing off my white-girl moves.”
    “Just because I’m going home doesn’t mean you have to.” I tell her smiling. I’m a little disappointed I’m going to miss her dancing, but if I agree to go out, I’ll never get Jake to leave me alone. Not to mention I have a whole list of chores to get done tomorrow and plans with Connor I don’t want to be hungover for. “I promise that we’ll do this again. And I won’t bail early next time,” I assure her.
    Still pouting, Mindy grabs my arm. “Come on, Sidney! It’s not even that late. Let’s just go to one club and I promise that if you wanna leave after we get there. I won’t protest!”
    Checking my watch, I see that she’s right. It’s only a quarter to ten.
    Relenting, I tell her, “Oh, all right. I’m only turning thirty once. After this year, it’s back to twenty-nine again. I’ll go.”
    Mindy squeals and grabs me for a quick hug. “We’re going to Raw! Have you been there?”
    I shake my head. I haven’t been to a bar in at least six years.
    “Oh my God. It’s the best nightclub in Atlanta. I know a guy working the door tonight, so we are definitely getting in.” She claps her hands and jumps up and down again.
    Her excitement is contagious, and before I know it, I’m pumped about showing off my white-girl moves too.

 
    M ark put me through the ringer yesterday as punishment for not having shown up to the media event. I’ve tried to tell him so many times that the morning-after media events are killer. There is nothing I want less than to have to show up and rehash my latest win. I get two weeks off after each fight for a reason. I need to unwind, preferably in a club with a hot piece of ass and a bottle of Crown. Which is probably the exact reason he schedules them so early the next morning.
    He’s constantly scheduling appearances and events that start before the fucking sun comes up, claiming it’s just when these things need to be done. But I have a feeling he does it to