ABBIE
Heading back to the office, I knew I look flustered. Hell, I felt more flustered than I had been in a long time. Meeting King on my lunch break had been a bad idea. A very bad idea. And I was busy kicking my own ass for it. I walked away from the meeting both turned on and annoyed, but that was my own fault. What had I been expecting to happen? Meeting someone like him – someone who drove me absolutely insane like he did – on my lunch break when I had to tell him I would never be able to see him again? Ugh. Just ugh.
But when he said he wanted out of that life, my heart argued. That's what they all say when they want to get laid, my brain countered.
I decided it was probably smarter to side with my brain on that one. King wanted to retire and get out of the outlaw lifestyle? He was what, late twenties? Early thirties? I thought he was older than me, but not by much. And to think at that young age, that he already wanted out of that life seemed unbelievable, to say the least.
But there had been something in his eyes, and in his voice, when he spoke about wanting out that rang true to me. There had been a sincerity and a genuineness there. Either he was a very good, very convincing liar, or he really meant what he was saying.
I shook my head and mentally chided myself. No, I had to stay away from him. For my own good. He was a bad guy, who did bad things, and hanging around with him would only be inviting those bad things into my own life. And I had too much self-respect, not to mention too many other priorities to want to get caught up in that kind of garbage.
“Abbie, can I see you in my office, please?” my boss called out as I walked toward my cubicle.
I turned and found Jack staring at me with his beady little eyes, looking me up and down. Inwardly, I groaned. I wasn’t in the mood to put up with my asshole boss, not after what just happened with King. But what choice did I have? When the boss calls you in, you have to go. Unless you were looking to find yourself unemployed, anyway.
“Sure thing,” I said. “Let me just – ”
I meant to say, “Let me put my purse away,” but that’s when I looked down and realized I didn’t have my purse with me. I paid at the diner, though – clearly I'd had it then. So where did it go? I quickly thought back to when I'd left the diner. I sat my purse down on the counter as I paid for the sandwich I never got to eat. I apologized to the waitress and I'd left. Dammit. My purse was probably still sitting on the counter.
Dammit. I didn't have time to run back and grab it. I could only hope our waitress noticed it and put it aside for me.
Jack was still watching me. I had no excuse now and I sighed. Instead of going back to my cubicle, I stepped into Jack's corner office. He closed the door behind us, and I felt his gaze on my ass even without turning to look at him. It was just this greasy, physical weight on my backside that I couldn't help but feel as he leered at me. Shuddering, I tried to remind myself we were still in the office. There were others around. He couldn't do anything inappropriate to me here, not when there were so many eyes around. Not even he could get away with something like that – could he?
“Listen, Abbie,” Jack said, opening up a file, shaking his head and giving me a dramatic pause. Scratching his chin, he looked up at me, a frown on his face. “I've been going over your records, preparing for your performance review and I need to be honest with you here. Things aren't looking good.”
My head was spinning. “What do you mean? My clients have been nothing but happy with my work – ”
“Are they?” Jack said, pretending to read something in the file and frowning at it. I knew he was pretending, though, because there wasn’t anything like that in his file. It simply wasn’t true. “Late submitting work, required numerous changes, full of errors – and the list goes on and on, Abbie.”
“I’ve never been late with a proposal,” I said through gritted teeth. My heart was racing. This wasn’t simply a case of somebody making a paperwork mistake. This was a case of him flat out lying. But why would he do that? Why would he make something up that was demonstrably untrue?
“You know we have that promotion coming up – Sam is leaving at the end of the month – and right now, it looks like Asher is going to be up for it. I like you and I’d really like to see you there, personally, but I can’t justify it with reviews like this.”
“May I see the file?” I asked, trying to keep my voice low and steady, despite the fact that my heart was beating a mile a minute.
“I’m sorry, but the clients expect confidentiality when they leave feedback,” he said, shutting the file and slipping it into a locked cabinet – as if I might sneak in his office and steal it.
“I’m telling you, Jack, I was never late. Not once. I'm early and am always willing to work with clients to make sure they're happy and satisfied. Errors? No one ever pointed any out to me, and I'd like to see what I've supposedly messed up on so I can improve. I believe that's only fair, don't you? If you're going to knock my performance, I am owed that much.”
I forced myself to slow down, control my breathing, and keep my anger under control. I knew he was full of shit and I wanted to scream, but I couldn't let Jack see me coming unraveled. I couldn't give him the ammunition or leverage to use against me. My fists were balled up at my sides and my face was burning, so I knew I was flushed with anger. But there was no way I would let Jack win. This promotion was supposed to be mine. I'd busted my ass and had fucking earned it.
Asher needed me to take him by the hand and guide him the whole way on everything. He needed me to continually press him to meet deadlines and he was always coming to me for help on something he didn't understand. There was no way he should be made PR Director. He couldn't do the basic fundamentals of the job with without my help. He couldn't do a damn thing on his own.
“Abbie, I'd really like to help you, but I don't know if I can,” Jack said, leaning forward and steepling his fingers in front of his face. His gaze fell on my cleavage and he made no attempt to hide it. “I personally believe you'd be better in that position than Asher. Hell, I believe you'd be better in any position – I mean, better than Asher, of course.”
The innuendo wasn't lost upon me. I sat up straight and tried to hold myself together, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Willing myself to count to ten in my head. “You'd really put Asher in the role, knowing full well he can't even write a basic marketing plan without me proofreading it and fixing it before submission? We both know you usually send his documents to me before sending them back to the clients. And yet, knowing all of that, you still want him to head up the department? I guess I don't understand the logic here.”
Jack shrugged, licked his lips and continued to openly leer my cleavage, even though I adjusted so he couldn't see much of anything from where he was sitting. He was still trying, though – or at least making it look as if he was trying. He wanted me to catch him, hoping for some sort of reaction. It was more than clear that he'd fabricated this story about dissatisfied customers simply because he was hoping to use is as leverage, hoping and praying that in a fit of panic, I'd offer up my body in exchanged for this promotion. I could see the hunger in his eyes as well as the hope that I'd just decide to get naked right then and there.
As I looked at the disgusting pig in front me, I realized there were only a few women in higher-up positions – all of them attractive and young – and maybe it wasn't fair, but I suddenly found myself wondering about how they'd gotten there. It made me wonder how many had given in to Jack's implied price tag for a promotion. Given the fact that he seemed entirely comfortable asking for that kind of a quid pro quo, I had to believe that more than a few had given it up to get ahead.
“Not everything is fair, Abbie,” Jack said, finally bringing his gaze up to stare into my eyes rather than at my tits. “Which is why I'm offering you a chance to prove yourself, prove that you're ready to be directly underneath me – in more ways than one.”
My body stiffened. Here it comes, I thought to myself.
“Meet me tonight at my place. Don't worry, it's just dinner. We can talk about a few strategies I have to help you lock in this promotion. And I can guarantee that if you get it, there is an ample pay raise that goes along with it. You can always decline, of course. But if we can't find some way to work this out between us, I'm going to have no choice but to submit this review to my father and the others above me. I have people I must answer to, as well, and I can only do so much when it's in their hands. My dad isn't as friendly or as amenable to compromise as I am, you see.”
I held tight onto the armrests on the chair. “No,” I said, my voice quiet at first. I didn't flinch or let myself seem rattled in any way though, and for that, I was proud. “No, I won't meet you for dinner. And what you're proposing here is not only wildly inappropriate, it's also highly illegal.”
“Come on, Abbie,” Jack said, standing up and placing both hands on his desk. He hovered above me now, his voice loud and domineering. Jack was used to getting his way – but he wasn't going to get it this time. “Do you really want to lose your job over this?”
I couldn't lose my job, I needed it. PR jobs in our coastal town weren't plentiful, and that's all I knew how to do. If Jack made good on his threat to fire me, I might have to move or consider working two part-time jobs just to get by. There was a knot in my stomach that was twisting painfully at the mere thought of losing my job, but I couldn't sleep with Jack. I wouldn't There was no way I could do that and live with myself afterward. I stood up, too, but he still loomed over me. Shaking my head, I didn't say another word. I merely walked to the door, in silence, before turning toward him. “Please don't make me do this, Jack,” I said. “Don't force me into this kind of decision.”
“I'm not making you do anything, Abbie. The choice is all yours.”
Yep. I had no choice. I had to walk out.
“Just so you know, I'm not quitting. I'm just turning down your dinner invitation,” I said. “I refuse to have sex with you in order to get a promotion and I just pray you'll do the right thing.”
I walked out of his office, closing the door behind me. My heart was racing and I needed some fresh air. I couldn't stay in this place, not after what happened. I needed to get outside, and fast. I rushed toward the elevator and pressed the button, stabbing at it with my finger over and over again. But after ten seconds of standing there, I thought it was still taking too long.
“Come on, come on,” I said, looking behind me, partly worried that Jack might be following me.
I wouldn't put it past him, but I breathed a sigh of relief seeing that the hallway was empty and I was alone. For now. He was probably back in his office still recovering from the shock of being turned down. When the elevator still didn't come thirty seconds later, I rushed toward the stairway. We were only on the second floor; I could walk down before the elevator got here.
I didn't walk, however, I ran. And when I hit the bottom floor and pushed open the door to the outside, I felt so much better. With the warmth of the sun, the slight breeze, and fresh air, some of that grimy, greasy residue Jack had left on me began to fade. Taking a deep breath, I walked across the parking lot toward my car. I'd run back to the restaurant, get my purse and come back. I'd try to pull myself together, put all of this behind me and get back to work. Hopefully I'd still have a job when I got back.
Footsteps behind me caused me to turn, and just as I did, Jack's hand clamped onto my arm. He squeezed and it felt like my arm had been caught in an iron vice. It hurt and I squealed.
“Jack, please – ” I screamed, trying to pull myself away from him.
But he was too strong. He pulled me toward him, our bodies touching, his face inches from mine. “No, you listen to me, Abbie. No one – and I mean no one – turns me down like that, you hear me? If you need this job so fucking badly, and I know you do – ”
I struggled against his grip, but it was no use. He was simply too strong and was easily overpowering me. The sound of tires skidding on the road caught us both off guard, but it wasn't until I saw King's face and saw him pulling Jack away from me that I realized what was happening.
“Who the fuck are you?” King spat, holding Jack up by the throat.
Jack's words were garbled, so I answered for him.
“He's my boss,” I said quietly.
King looked over at me, his eyes softening. “And did you want him touching you like that, Abbie?”
“You know this guy?” Jack asked, choking on his words.
“No,” I said, answering King and ignoring Jack. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to explain what had happened. “He followed me out here – after I – ” But I couldn't force myself to say the words.
King swung back, punching my boss hard across the face. My eyes went wide and my mouth formed an “o” as I listened to the sound of bone crunching beneath King's massive, powerful fist.
“No, King. Don't – ” I said, grabbing King by the arm, but it was too late. He punched Jack again before I could stop him.
“Don't you ever lay a hand on her – or any woman – like that again, jackass.”
“Please, King!” I shouted, pulling on his arm.
There was something in his eyes in that moment – it was a pure hatred and rage solely for Jack that made him seem terrifying. But when he turned and looked at me, his faced changed back, and he was the same old King again.
“If he ever touches you again,” he said loud enough that Jack could hear, “you let me know and I'll kill him for you.”
“You don't – ” I started to say, but King stopped me, talking directly to Jack.
“You got that? I will fucking kill you. Don't think I won't.”
Jack nodded, tears mixing with the blood that was streaming down his face. Jack's body trembled and he looked like he might throw up. He was scared. Truly scared. And I couldn't help but feel some small sense of satisfaction about that.
King let Jack's limp body fall to the ground, shaking his head. “Fucking piece of trash,” he said, spitting on Jack.
That's when I noticed something hanging from King's arm. My purse. The one I left at the restaurant. He'd brought it back for me.