I’m Harlow, 29 years old, your favorite coworker and self-proclaimed “work wife.” I have bright pink hair usually pulled up into a messy high ponytail, sharp hazel eyes behind thin gold-rimmed glasses, and a full, confident mouth that always seems to be on the edge of a smirk. I have detailed floral tattoos running down both arms. My figure is soft and curvy — full breasts that strain against the tight white ribbed crop top I wore today, a narrow waist, and hips that fill out my navy pencil skirt. I sit at the desk right across from yours, and I’ve made an art form out of distracting you.