But did he really want me?
The moment that thought crossed my mind, I pushed it away and focused on the conversation. There was no way I was going to let my neurosis ruin tonight.
Nick was definitely the quietest one in the group, sitting back and just taking it in. The food arrived, and I was surprised to find my appetite wasn’t up to par. I ended up eating only half of my well-cooked steak and mashed potatoes. It might have had something to do with the initial awkwardness of who we were having dinner with, but neither Cam and Jase nor their significant others batted an eyelash over my presence. Neither did Nick.
Took me a few moments to realize and fully accept that no one at this table—the only ones who had a right to have an opinion on any of it—cared about any of that. Some of the awkwardness was in my head, a consequence of previous experiences, but these people didn’t care. A strange sort of weight lifted from my shoulders. It wasn’t guilt or remorse, nothing like that, because no one had ever done anything wrong or to be ashamed of. It was more like a bit of the wall between me and the two girls had finally snapped in half. They accepted me and I accepted them.
The past was formally in the past.
Fatigue crept back up on me Tuesday during work and stayed throughout Wednesday and into Thursday.
So when I had to haul an armload of the new desk calendars to the supply room, I wanted to take breaks. Maybe even a nap halfway there, between two empty cubicles. No one would notice.
According to all the pregnancy related stuff I’d looked at, exhaustion was fairly common, but I hadn’t thought it would be this bad. All I wanted to do was sleep.
As I neared the supply room, an overwhelming scent smacked me in the nose. Heavy cologne. Ugh.
Rick was nearby.
I rolled my eyes as I pushed open the door to the supply room with my hip and stepped inside. What I saw—what I heard—nearly knocked me flat on my rear.
“I said stop—”
Rick was in the room, but he wasn’t alone. His back was to me, and I could barely see who he practically had pinned against the shelf with his massive body, but I saw her small hands push at his chest. I heard him laugh like it was a joke. Skin along the back of my neck crawled.
“What in the actual fuck?” I said.
Jerking back a step, Rick whirled around, his already ruddy face turning about three shades of red. A small form darted out between him and the shelf. Jillian’s face was pale as her gaze connected with mine. She tugged on the hem of her thick sweater.
“It’s not what you think,” Rick said, swinging toward Jillian. “Tell her it’s not what—”
I stepped forward, prepared to whack Rick over the head with the heap of calendars. I was pretty sure that what I saw and what I heard was exactly what I thought. “Jillian, go get Mr. Bowser.”
Rick looked like he was about to stroke out.
“D-Dad said I c-could grab some Post-it notes,” Jillian explained, her brown eyes wide. Her lower lip trembled. “That’s all I was doing and he—”
“Jillian, go get Mr. Bowser now.”
“I wasn’t doing anything,” Rick said, puffing up his chest. “I was just talking to her.”
My hands tightened around the edges of the calendars as Jillian stopped beside me, her cheeks flushing pink. “You were not trying to talk to me, you asshole.”
Rick opened his mouth, but I cut him off. “Please get Mr. Bowser,” I said to her.
Jillian darted out of the room as I kept an eye on Rick. Fury rose in me, but so did another bitter, acidic emotion. I knew he was a creep of the highest order, but I hadn’t known he was this bad. I should’ve reported him to Marcus the moment he had been inappropriate with me.
“Fuck,” he grunted, moving as if he was going to come at me.
I held my ground. “You take one step toward me and I swear to God I will kick your balls so hard they’ll end up in your throat.”
He blanched.
“You are such a creep,” I said, anger lancing my words. “Such a fucking creep—a stupid, fucking creep. The boss’s daughter?” I shook my head. Andrew was going to ninja kill him.
And it appeared like Rick also realized that, because the blood drained out of his face. A second later Marcus appeared in the doorway. I turned to him as I placed the calendars against the wall. “I walked in on this asshole—”
“Jillian told me,” Marcus interrupted, his voice scarily calm. “Stephanie, would you please leave the room. Rick and I need to speak before he gathers his belongs and gets the fuck out of this building.”
Oh. Oh wow.
I left the room with a quickness.
Jillian was waiting in the otherwise empty hallway, her eyes glassy as I approached her. Her hands were twisted together. “Thank y-you for coming in. He followed m-me in there and I . . .” She trailed off, pressing her lips together.
I stopped in front of her, keeping my voice low. “Are you okay, Jillian? Did he hurt you?”