But Steve’s comment…that was out of line, and she wasn’t going to let it slip by. Dropping her purse onto her desk, she snapped, “Gay or not, he has more of a chance with me than you do. Now get out of my seat.”
“I’m just—”
“Out,” she said again, punctuating the word with a swift kick to the seat of the chair.
Steve scrambled to stand. “I need help with a fax.”
“You’ve been here longer than I have,” she told him. “You’re just looking for a reason to breathe down the back of my neck and stare down the front of my shirt.”
His face reddened as he crumpled the papers between his hands. “What? No, I wouldn’t…I don’t—who told you that? Did Eric—”
“Fax it yourself or I’ll let Delia know you’re harassing me,” Jenny warned.
Steve’s color deepened to an almost eggplant purple. “I am not.”