It wasn’t funny to me. Because it wasn’t a joke.
And yet if I told her, then I would have to make a formal complaint. I loved Emily, but she wasn’t going to keep something like that a secret. It would get around the whole office. Without a formal complaint I would look like a liar or like I wanted to ruin him out of spite.
“He hated my giveaway idea.” I heard myself say the words, but I felt detached from the conversation, like I was outside of my body watching myself cover up for someone I couldn’t stand. My mind spun and spun and spun with the memory of what had happened, trying to remember every single detail so I could make sense of it.
So I could figure out the unbiased truth of it.
“That sucks.” Emily frowned in sympathy. “But are you surprised? He’s not exactly on the cutting edge of trends.”
“Y-you’re right. I shouldn’t be surprised. I guess I’m more disappointed.”
She reached out to pat my hand, but I pulled it back quickly. My personal bubble had just tripled in size and I wasn’t ready to touch another human yet. Even if it was one of my friends.
Her head cocked back. “Are you sure you’re okay, Molly?”
“I have a headache,” I told her. “I think it’s becoming a migraine.” Truth. “And it’s just been a really rough morning.” Noticing my hands had started to shake I balled them into fists and tucked them beneath my desk.
“Can I get you something? Coffee? Water?”
Whiskey. Neat. “W-water would be great. Thank you.”
Her expression stayed concerned, but she got up and headed for the kitchen. I took a shaky breath and tried to convince myself that it wasn’t the end of the world. I was just jostled. I hadn’t been expecting to face this today. Or any day. Or ever.
I closed my eyes and his hand was on my breast again. His fingers had stretched around the full circumference, his palm pressed firmly against my nipple.
Okay, so maybe I didn’t want to relive every second of that altercation.
A shudder slithered over me and I felt abruptly nauseous. Nervous energy rushed through me and before I totally grasped what I was doing, I had started a casual lap around the office. I probably wasn’t going to talk to HR, but it wouldn’t hurt to check out who was here today.
Nobody it turned out.
Doris ran the entire department by herself and she was nowhere to be found. Her desk looked untouched. Apparently, she had the day off.
Spinning around, I cased Mr. Tucker’s desk. It was across the office, but because of the open floor plan, I could see it from here. The only thing standing in my way was basically every single one of my coworkers, a brick pillar and my own doubt and fear.
“How’s the account?”
I jerked, surprised by the person standing to my left. “Oh my God. Catherine, you scared me.”
As the top female designer at STS, Catherine Dawes was everything I aspired to be. She was at least five years older than me and light years cooler. Starting with her perfectly smooth, expertly tamed platinum blonde hair to her houndstooth wrap dress, she embodied poise and professionalism.
Today, I looked like a cracked-out hipster with hair that wouldn’t lay nicely or do what I asked it to do. I couldn’t blame the hair on Henry though. That was one hundred percent me.
The Maverick curse.
“What account?” I asked stupidly.
“The Black Soul account. Didn’t Henry handpick you for that project?”
“Uh…” I didn’t know what to say. Her gaze probed mine, looking for something I couldn’t identify. Was she jealous? Did she want the project? She could have it. I was over Black Soul and working with Henry Tucker. “I guess.”
“What’s it like working with him?”
I folded my arms over my chest, feeling distinctly singled out. Catherine never spoke to me. Not even when we’d been paired on projects together. In general, she always kept to herself.
So I didn’t understand where this was coming from. Had Henry asked her to say something? Feel me out? In the proverbial sense, anyway. We already knew that if he was going to do it literally, he would do it himself.
“It’s fine.” I wished I wouldn’t have walked all the way over here for Doris who couldn’t even bother to show up for her job.
I must have glanced at Doris’s desk because Catherine’s gaze moved in the same direction. “Are you looking for Doris?”
“I was,” I admitted. “But it’s not a big deal. I can just talk to her when she gets back.”
“She won’t be back for another ten days,” Catherine supplied. “She’s on a cruise.”
Well, shit. “Are you serious?”
“Is it important? We got a memo about this last week. We’re supposed to go to Henry if we need something HR related. He’s covering while she’s out of the office.”
Of course he is.
“It’s seriously not a big deal.” I started to move away from Catherine toward my desk. “I’ll catch her some other time.”
“Molly,” she called after me. I only stopped because I was so surprised she knew my name. “If there’s something you want to talk about or if… something happened that you feel should be shared, I’m here for you.”
I licked dry lips and determined to forget about what had happened and move on with my life and this project. “Okay. Uh, thanks.”
Catherine’s bizarre proposal stayed with me for the rest of the day while I pretended to work. I wanted to tell someone. I would even tell Emily if it meant getting it off my chest. But I couldn’t seem to get the words past my lips.
It wasn’t until she started packing up for the day that I finally found the courage to confess.
She turned and asked, “Happy hour?”
I blinked at her and said, “Henry grabbed my boob this morning,” in a rushed, whispered explanation.
Her response boomed through the office. “He did what?”
Glancing around, I dropped my voice and repeated, “Henry grabbed my boob, Em. After the meeting this morning. He started by putting his hand on my shoulder and when I tried to move away, he grabbed my boob.”
She dropped her purse and laptop on the floor and shoved her rolling chair over by me. “Like full on?”
“Like a grab, Emily! Like you grab something. Like you intentionally try to grab something. That’s what he did. To my boob.” And if I’m forced to say boob one more time today, I might scream.
“Holy shit! What are you going to do?”
“I tried to talk to HR earlier, but Doris is on a cruise for the next ten days. The Little Tucker is filling in for her.”
“Yeah, well the Little Fucker can go to hell.” Her outrage soothed some of my own. “Did you say something?”
I took a steadying breath. “I told him not to touch me again. But since I shouldn’t have had to say that to begin with, who knows if he’ll listen.”
“He better listen!”
“I know.”
“Molly, what are you going to do?” she asked for a second time.
“Do you have any ideas? Seriously, I’m open. At this point my only other option is to go to his dad. But Henry is adamant that it was an accident. It’s his word against mine.”