Page 6 of Love to Loathe Him

And the thing is, I enjoy helping people. It’s why I got into HR. So if we didn’t have a ton of other shit to deal with, I might actually look forward to these weekly heart-to-hearts.

Emily clears her throat nervously, shifting in her seat. “I need to disclose a relationship.”

“Okay,” I reply, giving her my full attention. “Usually both parties come to disclose it together, but that’s all right, your partner can come see me later today. You’ll both need to sign the conflict-of-interest forms. Who’s your partner?”

“That’s the thing . . . he’s more senior than me.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “Daniel Hart.”

I blink. Please tell me I didn’t hear that right. “Daniel Hart?”

“That’s right.”

“Does he know you’re disclosing the relationship?”

“No, he’s being quite casual about the whole thing. But as the junior employee, I feel I need to ensure everything is properly documented, just to be safe.” She smiles nervously, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. “I’ve been so worried about it; I couldn’t sleep last night. So I thought it best to come to you today.”

I frown. “If you don’t mind me asking, how long has this relationship been going on?”

Her face reddens. “Six months.”

Right. I lean forward, giving her a sympathetic look. “I appreciate you bringing this to my attention, Emily. However, I’m afraid there may be a bit of an issue here.”

“Oh?” Her eyes widen. “I thought it was allowed as long as we disclosed it? I know it’s a little late—”

“It’s not that,” I interrupt gently. “Look, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it seems Daniel has already registered as being in a relationship. Here. At the company.”

Seriously, why can’t people just keep it in their pants at work? Is that really so much to ask? I’ve always believed in putting career before cock.

Her face goes blank.

“With someone else,” I add, because I get the feeling she’s not willing to let the truth sink in. “So unless you’re in a polyamorousrelationship, which I assume you’re not . . .” I trail off, clearing my throat pointedly until the penny drops.

And when it does, oh boy.

“No,” she gasps. “Are you sure? There must be some mistake. Daniel wouldn’t . . .”

“I’m sure,” I say, trying to keep my tone neutral even as I feel a twinge of sympathy for the poor girl. “Unless there’s another Daniel Hart lurking around here that I don’t know about.”

In which case, we’ve got bigger problems than her shattered heart.

Her face crumples. “I don’t believe this . . . Who? Who is he with?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t disclose that,” I say, giving her a sympathetic smile.

An ear-splitting sob erupts from her mouth with such force, I instinctively lean back to avoid the spray.

I jump up from my desk and rush to her side, plopping down next to her and shoving a box of tissues into her quivering hands.

“I can’t believe it. I thought we had something special,” she wails.

I bite back a sigh. If I had a pound for every time I heard that line, I could buy this company and fire everyone. Starting with Daniel.

“Emily,” I say calmly. “Think about what you want to do with this information. Remember how important this job is. You’ve only been here two years, but you have such a bright future ahead of you, if you handle this tactfully.”

She snatches a tissue and honks into it, her face turning redder. “That wanker. That lying, cheating, scumbag wanker!”

I wince. “It’s probably best if you refrain from calling another employee names in front of me.”

Even if he is a total wanker.