My Colleague Asked Me Out on a Date—I Should Have Said No #2

I never thought I’d become visible to Daniel, the handsome and charming head of my department.

For three years, I’d watched him from behind my computer screen, admiring how he commanded every room he walked into.

His confident stride, his easy smile, and the way everyone gravitated toward him during office parties.

“Earth to Cindy,” my friend Margo would say, snapping her fingers in front of my face whenever she caught me staring. “You know he’s way out of your league, right?”

I’d just sigh because, of course, I knew it. Men like Daniel didn’t notice women like me. On the few occasions he’d brought dates to our work functions, they’d all been built like catwalk models.

Meanwhile, I was more Rubenesque. I worked out regularly and played sports, but all it did was build my strength. I tried all the popular diets, too, but the weight wouldn’t shift.

At 32, I tried not to worry about my weight anymore, but it wasn’t easy. Life is hard when you’re stuck in a body that draws judgmental gazes wherever you go.

But, one Tuesday afternoon, everything changed.

I was hunched over quarterly reports, the office nearly empty as the clock ticked past six. The sudden presence at my desk made me jump.

“Working late again?” Daniel asked, leaning casually against my cubicle wall.

I nodded, unable to form words as his cologne (something expensive and woodsy) filled my small workspace.

“You know, Cindy, I’ve noticed how dedicated you are.” His smile revealed perfect teeth. “Want to grab dinner after work tomorrow? You deserve a break.”

My heart stuttered. “Dinner? With you?”

“Unless you’d rather eat with someone else?” His eyebrow quirked playfully.

“No! I mean, yes. Dinner sounds great.” The words tumbled out before my brain could process what was happening.

“Perfect. Luigi’s at seven? It’s that Italian place on Maple Street. I’ll meet you there.”

I nodded again, watching him walk away with that confident stride. Only when he disappeared around the corner did I allow myself to breathe.

I called Margo immediately. “You won’t believe what just happened.”

“What? Did you finally figure out that spreadsheet error?” Margo asked, the sounds of her kids screaming in the background.

“Daniel asked me out. On a date. Tomorrow.”

The line went silent.

Then Margo squealed so loudly I had to pull the phone from my ear. “Are you serious? Department head Daniel with the butt that won’t quit?”

“The very same,” I confirmed, still in disbelief.

“This is huge! I’m coming over right now with my blue dress. The one that makes even my post-twins body look good.”

“You can’t! I’m still at work. Meet me at my place in an hour?”

The next day crawled by. Daniel acted normal in our morning meeting, but his small smile when our eyes met confirmed I hadn’t imagined the invitation.

I arrived at the restaurant 15 minutes early, wearing Margo’s blue dress. The maitre’d escorted me to a corner table where I ordered a glass of water and waited.

And waited and waited.

“More water?” the waiter asked for the third time, pity evident in his eyes.

“He’s just running late,” I said, more to myself than to him.

By half-past seven, I’d shredded my napkin into confetti. That’s when the waiter returned, this time with a folded note.

“This was left for you at the front desk,” he said.

My hands trembled as I unfolded it, hoping for an explanation — a work emergency, a flat tire, anything.

Instead, I read: “Stand up and go to the bathroom. And when you open the door, you have to lock it behind you ;)”

My stomach dropped.

This wasn’t the Daniel I thought I knew. This was crude, suggesting something I would never do.

Was this what he thought of me? That I was so desperate I’d agree to bathroom hookups on a first date?

Anger replaced disappointment as I marched toward the bathroom. I’d tell him exactly what I thought of his “offer” and walk out with my dignity intact.

I pushed open the door and froze.

Daniel stood inside with two men I recognized from the marketing department. One held up his phone, camera pointed directly at me. All three were laughing.

“That’s it, the bet’s over. I did it,” Daniel announced, looking not at me but at his friends.

“A bet?” The words barely made it past the lump in my throat.

Daniel shrugged, already pushing past me. “Nothing personal.”

His friends followed, still filming, still laughing. I stood rooted to the spot, their laughter echoing in my ears long after they’d gone.

As awful as it was to think he’d asked me out so we could hook up in a bathroom, being the butt of some juvenile prank was even worse.

I went home and curled into bed, still reeling from the shocking turn the evening had taken.

But when I got up for work the next morning, I discovered that Daniel had taken things a step further.

My phone started buzzing nonstop while I was brushing my teeth. When I saw the messages were coming through on a work chat group, I opened it immediately.

My jaw dropped. Daniel had shared the video of me entering the bathroom with a brief caption: “Didn’t take much convincing😏”

As if winning his stupid bet wasn’t bad enough, he was now making me look desperate for him!

Neither of us could’ve known how deeply he’d regret his actions in two days.

I couldn’t face my coworkers after that so I called in sick. I couldn’t believe how badly I’d misjudged Daniel… had I been so blinded by his good looks that I hadn’t realized who he really was?

I called in sick the next day, too. When my phone rang on the third day, I almost didn’t answer. But the caller ID showed Mr. Reynolds — the company owner.

My stomach lurched.

“Hello?” My voice sounded small, even to my own ears.

“Cindy,” Mr. Reynolds 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.”

“Report to my secretary when you get here.”

Ninety minutes later, I walked into the main conference room, where Mr. Reynolds’ secretary had told me he was waiting.

Confusion mingled with dread when I saw the entire company assembled. Daniel sat near the front, a smug smile playing on his lips.

Mr. Reynolds stood at the head of the room, next to a projector screen. When he saw me, he nodded slightly.

“Now that we’re all here,” he said, “I want to address something.”

The screen flickered to life, and there I was again, entering that bathroom. My face burned as whispers rippled through the room.

Then Mr. Reynolds laughed.

“Alright,” he said between chuckles. “Who thinks this video is funny? Be honest. Raise your hand.”

Seven hands went up, including Daniel’s.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Unshed tears burned my eyes as I turned back to Mr. Reynolds.

I wanted to scream at him, or put all my years in the gym to good use and flip the conference table, but then I noticed something.

Mr. Reynolds wasn’t smiling anymore. He was staring at Daniel coldly and his jaw had clenched tight.

“And who,” Mr. Reynolds continued, “thinks this is disgusting, unprofessional behavior that has no place in our company?”

Slowly, hands began to rise. Five, then ten, then 15. I couldn’t believe it.

“Everyone who found this funny,” Mr. Reynolds said, his voice suddenly cold, “please collect your things and leave. You no longer work here.”

The room went silent.

“Workplace harassment isn’t a joke,” Mr. Reynolds replied. “Neither is recording someone without consent or spreading videos meant to humiliate them.”

“But—”

“Security will escort you out,” Mr. Reynolds cut him off.

Mr. Reynolds then turned to the rest of the employees. “Those who supported Ms. Wilson will find a bonus in their next paycheck.”

I stood frozen, unable to process what was happening.

As security led Daniel and the others out, Mr. Reynolds approached me. “Ms. Wilson, I owe you an apology. This should never have happened.”

“Thank you,” I managed, still stunned.

“There’s one more thing,” he said. “We now have a vacant department head position. Based on your performance reviews and the respect you clearly command from your colleagues, I’d like to offer it to you.”

“Me?” I blinked rapidly. “You want me to replace Daniel?”

“I want the most qualified person for the job,” he corrected. “Your quarterly reports have been exceptional, and unlike your predecessor, you understand that leadership requires character, not just charisma.”

The room blurred as tears filled my eyes. From invisible to department head in three days — it didn’t seem real.

“Do you accept?” Mr. Reynolds asked.

I thought about Daniel, about the video, about all the times I’d felt small. Then I thought about what I could do with this position; the changes I could make, and the people I could help.

“Yes,” I said, my voice stronger than it had been in days. “I accept.”

As I looked around the room at my supportive colleagues, I realized something important: I’d never been invisible. I’d just been looking for validation from the wrong people.