For years, I had secretly admired Daniel, the charming and confident head of my department.
He was the kind of man who could walk into a room and instantly command attention. People gravitated toward him at office parties, drawn in by his easy smile and effortless charm.
“Earth to Cindy!” my best friend Margo would tease whenever she caught me staring at him. “You know he’s way out of your league, right?”
I always sighed in response because, deep down, I knew she was right. Daniel only dated stunning women—the kind who looked like they belonged on magazine covers. Meanwhile, I was just… me. No matter how much I exercised or how many diets I tried, my body never changed. By the time I hit 32, I had accepted it, but that didn’t mean the judgmental stares hurt any less.
Then, out of nowhere, everything changed.
It was a Tuesday evening, and I was the last one in the office, buried under a mountain of quarterly reports. The sudden presence at my desk startled me.
“Still working late, I see,” Daniel said, leaning against my cubicle with a casual smile.
I nodded, my throat suddenly dry. His cologne—a rich, woodsy scent—filled the air around me.
“You’re really dedicated, Cindy,” he said. “How about dinner tomorrow? You deserve a break.”
My heart nearly stopped. “Dinner? With you?”
“Unless you’d rather eat with someone else?” He smirked playfully.
“No! I mean, yes! I’d love to have dinner with you.” The words tumbled out before I could even think.
“Great. Luigi’s on Maple Street. Seven o’clock. See you then.”
I sat frozen as he walked away, my mind spinning. The moment he disappeared, I grabbed my phone and dialed Margo.
“Margo, you’re not going to believe this!”
“What? Did you finally fix that stupid spreadsheet?” she asked, struggling to be heard over the noise of her kids in the background.
“No! Daniel asked me out! To dinner! Tomorrow!”
There was a moment of silence before Margo let out an ear-piercing scream. “OH MY GOD! Daniel with the perfect jawline? Department-head Daniel? Butt-that-won’t-quit Daniel?!”
“Yes! That one!”
“I’m coming over right now with my blue dress—the one that makes me look amazing even after having twins. You are wearing it!”
The next day was a blur. Daniel acted normal at work, but when our eyes met, he gave me a small smile that confirmed I hadn’t imagined the invitation.
By evening, I was at Luigi’s fifteen minutes early, wearing Margo’s blue dress. The maitre d’ led me to a cozy table, and I ordered a glass of water, my excitement building.
And then I waited.
And waited.
Thirty minutes passed. The waiter approached me again. “More water, miss?”
“He’s just running late,” I mumbled, trying to convince myself more than him.
At 7:30, my hands were shaking. That’s when the waiter returned with a folded note.
“This was left for you at the front desk,” he said sympathetically.
I unfolded it, my heart pounding.
“Stand up and go to the bathroom. And when you open the door, lock it behind you ;).”
My stomach twisted. This wasn’t the Daniel I had admired for years. This was crude and disgusting.
Was this all I was to him? Some desperate woman willing to do anything just because he finally paid attention to me?
Anger replaced my disappointment. I stood up and marched toward the bathroom, determined to tell him exactly what I thought of his little “offer.”
I pushed open the door—and froze.
Inside, Daniel stood with two guys from the marketing department. One of them was holding his phone up, filming me. All three of them were laughing.
“That’s it! The bet’s over. I did it,” Daniel announced, barely looking at me.
My blood turned to ice.
“A bet?” The words barely escaped my lips.
Daniel shrugged and walked past me. “Nothing personal.”
His friends followed, still laughing, still filming. I stood frozen, their cruel laughter ringing in my ears long after they had left.
I went home that night, curled into a ball, and cried myself to sleep.
But Daniel wasn’t done humiliating me.
The next morning, my phone buzzed non-stop. When I checked my work group chat, my stomach dropped.
Daniel had shared the video of me entering the bathroom with the caption: “Didn’t take much convincing. 😏”
My entire body burned with shame. He was making it look like I had willingly followed him, like I was eager for him.
I called in sick that day. And the next. I couldn’t face anyone.
On the third day, my phone rang. Mr. Reynolds—the company owner.
“Cindy,” he said, his tone unreadable. “I expect to see you in the office within the hour. Or clean out your desk.”
I swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”
When I arrived, I was led to the main conference room. My breath caught when I saw the entire company gathered inside. Daniel sat near the front, looking smug. My heart pounded.
Mr. Reynolds stood beside a projector screen. When he saw me, he nodded.
“Now that we’re all here,” he said, “I want to address something.”
The screen flickered to life, playing the video of me entering the bathroom. My face burned with humiliation. Whispers spread through the room.
Then Mr. Reynolds laughed.
“Alright,” he said, “Who here thinks this is funny? Be honest.”
Seven hands went up. Daniel’s was one of them.
Mr. Reynolds’ smile disappeared. His voice turned ice cold. “And who thinks this is disgusting, unprofessional behavior that has no place in our company?”
Slowly, hands started going up. Five. Ten. Fifteen. More than half the room.
“Those who found this funny,” Mr. Reynolds said, “please collect your things and leave. You no longer work here.”
A heavy silence fell over the room.
Daniel shot up from his seat. “What? You can’t be serious! It was just a joke!”
“Workplace harassment isn’t a joke,” Mr. Reynolds replied. “Neither is recording someone without consent. Security will escort you out.”
Daniel looked around, realizing he had no allies left. Security stepped forward. His face paled as they led him away.
Once they were gone, Mr. Reynolds turned to me. “Cindy, I owe you an apology. This should never have happened.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, overwhelmed.
“There’s one more thing. We now have a vacant department head position. Based on your performance and your reputation among your colleagues, I’d like to offer it to you.”
I blinked in disbelief. “Me?”
“You’re the most qualified for the job,” he said. “And unlike your predecessor, you have integrity.”
Tears stung my eyes. Three days ago, I had been invisible. Now, I was being offered the position I had always dreamed of.
“Do you accept?” Mr. Reynolds asked.
I thought about Daniel, the humiliation, the way I had let his opinion define me. Then I thought about the respect of my colleagues and the chance to make real change.
I lifted my chin. “Yes. I accept.”
For the first time in years, I truly saw myself. And I liked what I saw.
