Lucy Zimmer sat at her desk staring at her research for the Corbin versus Corbin case. She had the distinct impression that she’d seen this exact information before. Her eyes began to glaze over. Now that she had been working as a paralegal at Bars & Associates for the last two years, each day seemed to bleed into the next. She sighed and printed out the file. As soon as the warm paper left the printer, she added it to the filing cabinet.

Thank God it was Friday. Her boss, Mr. Bars, the senior partner at the firm, walked past her desk and glanced at her cleavage. A cold chill went down her spine. She’d been avoiding his advances since his favorite secretary had quit three months ago under strange circumstances. Lucy was beginning to understand why Monica had left without notice. Mr. Bars walked into his office and shut the door. A moment later, Lucy’s phone rang.

“In my office now, Ms. Zimmer. Bring a legal pad. I need you to do some research for me.”

She grabbed her things, feeling a blast of apprehension spiral in her stomach. Her legs went leaden. Every step toward his office felt more difficult than the last. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and went inside. His office was decorated with dark, masculine furnishings: a carved mahogany desk, heavy shelves full of legal tomes, and a burgundy Persian rung that covered the chestnut wood floor.

She stood by the leather armchair across from his desk and glanced at the landscape oil paintings on the walls. Even those gave her the creeps. His eyes swept up her curvy hips, hugged by her form-fitting pencil skirt, and singed over the slight amount of skin exposed at her collarbone under her crisp white shirt.

“Have a seat, Ms. Zimmer,” he said with the slightest note of contempt in his voice.

Lucy sat down, crossing her ankles in a ladylike manner, and readied her pencil. She lifted an eyebrow and looked him in the eye. “Yes?” she asked.

He began to recite information for her to research. A new divorce case. She was to hire a private investigator to spy on the mother so that the father could somehow get information to give him the upper hand in a child custody case. If that failed, he just wanted to pay less child support. Lucy gritted her teeth. She hated family law cases. They always seemed so nasty.

Mr. Bars stopped speaking and stood by the window, looking directly at Lucy’s full breasts. Her nipples tingled with awareness. She bit her lip. Mr. Bars was so not her type. He was old, at least fifty-five, married, and had children her age. Lucy was anything but interested, but her body told her everything she needed to know. Mr. Bars was very interested.

“Lucy. May I call you Lucy?” he said, moving across the room. He poured a glass of scotch and came to stand above her. “How long have you been working as a paralegal for the firm?”

“Two years, sir, since I finished school. I was hired at Bars & Associates upon graduation. I’m grateful for my position. It’s been great here,” she lied.

“I have a need for a private paralegal, someone to work closely with me on some special cases.”

Lucy cringed. She knew exactly what he meant by “private paralegal.” Translation: private parts paralegal. “I don’t know what to say. My direct supervisor is Ms. Cavendish. I’m sure I can be reassigned through her.”

“I don’t think you understand what I’m saying, Lucy.”

He reached down and slid his hand inside her shirt, under her bra, and squeezed her breast. Cold sweat broke over her skin. She stood up instinctively and backed away, her mouth agape. She couldn’t stop blinking.

“That isn’t in my job description,” she choked out.

He laughed at her, holding his glass of scotch as he leaned on the leather chair. His body language said he didn’t care that the attraction wasn’t mutual. He looked at her, utter contempt flashing over his face for a brief instant, before he smiled again.

“You do want to keep your job, don’t you? Things are tough out there for entry-level girls these days.”

“This is sexual harassment.”

He laughed again, almost choking on his scotch. “You want to play legal games with me, little girl?”

She looked down and away. No one would ever believe her. Even if they did, she’d never win a legal case against Bars & Associates. “I’ll think about it,” she stammered as she turned to leave the office.

Lucy’s head spun, throbbing and buzzing with the sound of a million bees. This couldn’t be happening. She needed this job. Her apartment was expensive, and she’d lost her roommate. Even if she started looking for jobs now, she would run out of money before she got one.

This couldn’t be happening. She’d been comfortably working here for two years. Would they even give her a reference if she left? All the horrible possibilities spun in her brain, and she felt sick to her stomach.

Lucy stumbled to her desk and sat down. She gulped as the edges of her vision turned black.

After grabbing her things, she somehow made it to her supervisor’s office. The older woman sat at her desk in a lace-trimmed white shirt. A silver chain hung from her glasses.

“I’m feeling sick today, Ms. Cavendish. I’ve got to leave early.”

“Is everything all right, Lucy? You look green.”

“Must have been something I ate. I’m sure I’ll feel better by Monday.”

“Did you finish filing the Corbin versus Corbin case?”

“Yes.”

“All right, then. Take care of yourself, dear.”

Lucy stumbled to the elevator and took it downstairs to the parking lot. Once inside her car, she took deep breaths, trying not to throw up. Her entire career was at stake because of one old pervert.

She screamed and hit the steering wheel. After turning the key in the ignition, she sped out of her spot and into the street. The late-afternoon sky shone brightly over Portland as Lucy drove through downtown.

Everything she’d worked for was on the line.