The Witch, the Tie, and the Tension

That’s it. I’m quitting.” Darcy fumed as he flung his red polka dot tie across the desk, the fabric landing with a soft thud on the threshold. He could already imagine the headline in the next employee newsletter:

"Meet Darcy the Clown – Now With Bonus Tie!"

Thanks to her — the witch — and his humiliating walk of shame, Darcy was now the official laughingstock of the entire office. Carina, the company gossip with nothing better to do, was probably furiously typing her next blog post about him even as they spoke. And Tony, the tech guy with an iPhone permanently glued to his hand, had filmed every embarrassing second.

Darcy groaned, sinking into his chair.

Celebrity, my ass.

“Knock-knock,” came a chirpy voice from the doorway.

Before Darcy could say “Come in,” Macy waddled in and plopped herself on his desk as if it were her throne.

“What’s wrong, Darcy darling? Did the witch bite your head off again?” she asked, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Worse.” Darcy pointed to the tie lying on the desk. “She made me wear this bloody thing.” His voice was thick with resentment.

Macy burst out laughing. “The red polka dot one? Ha-ha! That’s priceless.”

“Oh, just shut up, Macy.”

“Did Tony catch you on camera?”

Darcy rested his forehead on the desk, sighing. “Check YouTube tonight if you want a good laugh.”

Macy tousled his already messy hair. “Great content. Honestly, it’ll be viral in no time.”

“Stop. My head’s splitting,” Darcy groaned, rubbing his temples.

“That’s not a headache, ducky, that’s a hangover,” Macy teased, pinching his cheek until it flushed red.

Darcy swatted her hand away. “Whatever. I want to work.”

But Macy wasn’t done pestering. “So, what were you doing while the witch was meeting with Clarice Mason?”

“Working,” he lied quickly.

“Really?” Macy raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced.

“Yes.” Too fast. Darcy cursed himself silently.

“You’re so annoying. Seriously, what did Brian ever see in you?”

Darcy smirked despite himself. “Zip it, Macy. You’re just jealous I’m still free while you’re stuck with Brian.”

He wasn’t jealous. He liked his freedom too much. But to keep the peace, he muttered, “Okay, fine, I’m jealous. Happy now?”

“Darcy darling,” Macy said with a sly smile, “you were sleeping during that meeting, weren’t you?”

“What? Why would you say that?”

“You have drool at the corner of your mouth.”

“What?” Darcy frantically wiped his chin just as Macy burst into uncontrollable laughter, almost toppling backward off his desk.

“Ha-ha! Hilarious. Now get out.”

“Oh, stop being such a big baby. Why don’t you ever swear at the witch?”

Darcy sighed deeply. “Because—dammit—I just want to quit.”

“Then quit.”

“I can’t,” he said quietly. “Student loans.”

“Not on yourself, maybe, but you spend plenty on your girlfriends.”

“They’re not girlfriends,” Darcy said defensively. “I have a sex life, not a love life.”

“So you’ll just sleep around until you’re old and alone?”

“Yep. Happy bachelor here. All those girls keep me healthy.”

“You mean sexually healthy?”

“Yes. Little Jonathan is doing fine,” he said with a smirk.

Macy rolled her eyes. “You’re so transparent, Darcy. You’re stressed because you have the hots for the witch.”

Darcy choked on his own disbelief. “What the hell?”

“It’s obvious. You want her attention, and you like being controlled. Admit it — you’re a masochist.”

He gagged. “I’d rather bite my tongue off than admit I like her.”

Macy grinned. “You do. You’re obsessed. All that tension between you two — it’s chemistry, plain and simple.”

“Out!” Darcy barked.

But Macy was relentless. “You just mark my words, little ducky.”

Finally alone, Darcy sighed and began tidying his cluttered desk, but Macy’s words echoed in his mind.

You have the hots for the witch.

No way. She was old. He had one rule — never date a woman older than him.

He remembered the disastrous date with a woman in her thirties. She looked stunning, but when he saw her age on her driver’s license, his throat went dry. He’d bolted out of the restaurant, slamming a fifty-dollar note on the table before disappearing into the night.

He snickered at the memory, trying to convince himself.

Still, despite himself, he found his mind wandering. Imagining the witch in something... seductive. Like the lingerie from those glossy magazines his exes loved to show him — the ones they begged him to buy before birthdays.

Tousled black hair cascading down her back. Pale, creamy skin glowing under soft light. Long lashes shadowing her eyes seductively. A strap slipping just off her shoulder…

Darcy shivered.

Nope. Not in this lifetime.