Gemotions

Brenda tapped her pen against the spreadsheet, the repetitive click a counterpoint to Mark’s incessant humming. He’d been like this all morning, happy-go-lucky and insufferable. She hated his cheerfulness. He was currently attempting to organize a team lunch, something she felt was a colossal waste of time. She'd told him as much, her tone sharp.

He’d ignored her, of course.

“So, Brenda, what do you say about Italian? I was thinking, maybe that place on Elm?” Mark’s smile widened, a beacon of forced camaraderie. She hated that he always assumed she'd be agreeable.

"I have a dentist appointment," she announced, barely looking up. It wasn't true. She just didn't want to go. The mere idea of spending an hour chattering with these people made her stomach churn.

Mark sighed, the sound a low, almost exasperated rumble. “Again? That's the fourth one this month. You okay?”

“Perfectly.” Her gaze met his, a direct stare that dared him to challenge her. It was a battle of wills, and she would not yield.