My coworker and I had been flirting for almost a year, mostly through jokes that went one inch too far.
At a work conference, the hotel messed up our reservations. He said we could share until they found another room. Neither of us called the front desk again.
We ordered food, opened the tiny bottles from the minibar, and talked on the bed like teenagers hiding from somebody’s parents.
By midnight, he had his hand on my thigh. By one, we had crossed every line we had spent a year pretending not to see.
At breakfast we sat across from our boss and discussed quarterly goals.
I have never felt more insane in my life.
Now the comments get a turn.
Read the room, state your case, and try not to become the reason the next submission exists.