I slowly lifted my glare to find the Little Tucker hovering over me. I had been in the middle of a graphic and he’d interrupted just as I was trying to place the emblem in the exact spot to look life changing. But his voice had startled me enough that my hand had jerked, dragging it to the upper left corner, far away from my target. He’d ruined thirty minutes of work.
I contemplated ignoring him as I gripped the mouse with refreshed determination. Earlier in the week I’d sent an email to Doris from HR, explaining what had happened with Henry and how I felt harassed by him on an almost daily basis. I hadn’t expected an immediate return email since she was still on her cruise, but two hours later she’d responded. By telling me that it sounded like a colossal misunderstanding and that I should respectfully bring up the matter with him if I ever felt uncomfortable again. She was confident we could work things out without her. She was positive Henry would never do it again. She wanted me to leave her the hell alone so she could get back to sun tanning on the lido deck.
“About what?” I asked as I went back to staring at the computer screen. Graphic development was ten percent skill, twenty percent taste, thirty percent ability to keep your hand steady and three hundred percent mentally willing everything into place.
The numbers work. Don’t ask questions.
“I haven’t gotten your Black Soul updates, sweet cheeks,” he snarled. “I needed them three hours ago and they’re nowhere to be seen.”
A nervous feeling ticked inside me. I had ignored an email from Henry this morning in favor of working on Ezra’s stuff all day. I was starting to make headway with his websites so I was feeling extra inspired to do something that I could show him.
Since I’d been avoiding Ezra since Saturday, I was still fuzzy on when that would be. Sometime in the very distant, very ambiguous future, whenever I worked up the courage to see him again, he was going to be so impressed.
To be fair, he hadn’t made a huge effort to reach out to me either, so I felt vindicated. In like a really depressing way.
Victory! As I cried into my ice cream every night.
Not kidding. Just kidding.
Instead of dwelling on my ability to ruin every good thing, I’d thrown myself entirely into his project so I could impress him with my design genius. I would then proceed to ignore him from now until the end of time.
Fine, I had been the one to retreat Saturday, slinking out of Bianca without saying goodbye. And fine, I hadn’t made any effort to reach out to him or email him or text him or try to have any contact with him whatsoever since then. But it was Wednesday. Wednesday! He’d said he liked me and then let this go until Wednesday without even a work email!
Also, I hated being this girl.
I wanted the record to show, I loathed being this undecided, fickle, crazy person terrified female that didn’t know what she wanted or who she wanted or when she wanted it.
But I couldn’t seem to talk myself down from this psychotic ledge.
I couldn’t even paint my way out of these feelings. And believe me… I’d tried.
I barely spared Henry a look when I explained, “I’ve been really busy with the EFB Enterprises account. Sorry. I’ll get to the updates in a bit.”
“I need them now,” Henry gritted through clenched teeth.
The second meeting with Black Soul wasn’t until next week and all I had to do was change the color scheme they didn’t like. And no, for those interested, I hadn’t used gray and yellow.
I’d used black and white with some striking reds. It had a vintage Guns and Roses vibe to it. The suits wanted something subtler with softer colors. Basically, I should have gone with gray and yellow to begin with.
It would be a pain to go back through everything and re-shade, but I didn’t have to create anything new. I just needed a few focused hours to get it done.
Giving up on the graphic in front of me until Henry had slithered off, I pushed away from my desk and bit back a growl. “I don’t have them ready for you right now. But if they’re that important I can walk away from what I’m working on and start them.”
Henry’s expression turned sour, reminding me of a petulant child. “I had a feeling two major projects were going to be too much for you. You’re not ready for a lead role yet, baby. I told my dad that he should have let me run the EFB account. “
I resisted, barely, the urge to punch him in the throat. Was he seriously attacking my work ethic? If I had slacked on anything it was the Black Soul project and that was all his fault. And I would be more than happy to have a conversation with his dad about why I wasn’t totally enthusiastic about working with his deviant of a son.
But to Henry, I remained professional, poised, and only mildly bitchy. “They’re not too much,” I said coolly. “I’ve carved out plenty of time for each, but I was planning on starting the Black Soul touchups later in the week since my EFB account is on a tighter timeline. Why do you need them right now?”
Ignoring my question and my explanation and my entire A-plus work history, he tapped his fingers on the chest high partition and said, “I want those updates before you leave for the day. Got it?”
Clenching my teeth together to keep from choking him saying something I would regret, I nodded once. “Fine.”
“Good girl.” He smirked.
Expecting him to leave, I was surprised when he stayed. He stood there for another minute staring directly at my chest. He didn’t even try to hide it. I’d taken to wearing the most modest, dowdy clothing I owned to work. The chambray button-up paired with the Aztec printed maxi skirt I was wearing were hardly revealing, and yet Henry salivated all over my cubicle like he was front and center at a strip club.
“Do you mind?” I asked bluntly.
He reluctantly lifted his lascivious gaze and winked at me, then finally walked away.
That’s when I threw up all over my computer. Okay, maybe not all over my computer, but at least a little bit in my mouth. God, he was such an asshole!
A gross, disgusting, asshole.
After he disappeared, I contemplated running to HR again and demanding that they file a report for his employee record. I wasn’t imagining his gross behavior.
He was out of line.
At least, to my personal standards, he felt very, very out of line. Maybe Doris hadn’t understood before. Maybe she hadn’t realized how out of control he was. I knew she wanted to protect her own job and felt that writing up a formal complaint about the boss’s son maybe wasn’t the best way to do that. But she couldn’t ignore his behavior anymore. He was a liability. And pissing me off!
I stood up and walked over to her desk, but she still wasn’t there and writing a handwritten complaint wasn’t going to get me anywhere if she still wouldn’t be back for several days. Spinning around, I observed the whole office, trying to decide what to do. I spotted Mr. Tucker’s office and wondered about going directly to him. What would he say? What would he do? Was I prepared to accuse his son of sexual harassment directly to his face?
No, no I was not.