"Did We Sleep Together?" My Boss Asked. My Answer Changed the Dynamics of Our Entire Office.

Which brought him to Saturday morning.

If someone had taken a photograph of Mark's kitchen at that exact moment—it would look like a bizarre, tense domestic drama. In the image, Lily is sitting at the wooden table in her pink pajamas, completely engrossed in her tablet, a bowl of cinnamon cereal in front of her. Mark is standing near the counter in his dark suit pants and a crisp white shirt, ready for a weekend client meeting, his face a mask of restrained hurt. And Elaine is standing near the kitchen island, looking fragile and out of place in Sarah's oversized Yale shirt, one hand nervously gesturing as she tries to explain herself.

“I wouldn’t want something like that to damage our working relationship.”

Her words hung in the air.

Mark looked at the floor, swallowing the bitter taste of rejection. "Understood, Elaine. Your career is safe. I'll call you an Uber."

"No," Elaine said quickly. She took a step toward him. The corporate armor was completely gone. "Mark, you don't understand. I wasn't relieved because the idea of you is repulsive to me. I was relieved because Richard Vance has been trying to destroy me for six months."

Mark looked up, freezing.

"He's been looking for leverage," Elaine whispered, tears finally welling in her eyes. "If he found out I slept with a direct report... he'd take it to HR. He'd have me fired for a code of conduct violation. He told me last night that if I didn't go to his hotel room, he would find a way to ruin me. I was so terrified I'd made a mistake that gave him exactly what he wanted."

She looked down at the Yale shirt. "Whose clothes are these?"