Chapter 10

It’s dark outside by the time I look up from my screen. I stretch my back and get out of my seat. I’m sure there’s nothing else I can do tonight; it’s nearly seven o’clock. I’ve placed more than twenty calls, emailed back and forth with several PAs dealing with invites for various important people, and liaised with the event planner.

The calendar is moving toward winter, and the sun is setting earlier. I didn’t expect it to be this dark. I regret staying late since the walk from the station in Queens will be dark and slightly frightening.

I tidy up my desk, power down my laptop, pick up my coat and bag, and walk to the elevator with a stifling yawn. It pings, the doors open, and I enter, not surprised to find it empty. The elevator slows down and pings again, and I notice it’s stopped at the fourteenth floor. Odd, since very few staff stay beyond 5:30 p.m., although I don’t think Jake and I ever left before seven when I worked with him—he always was a workaholic.

As I expect another empty floor, I focus on my cell, checking messages as the doors slide open. Someone comes in, a male. From this angle, I can see his shoes and trousers as he stands close to me, a little too close. His aftershave takes over the space, sticking in my throat and pushing me to glance up. There’s something vaguely familiar about him, and I’m sure we’ve met before when I was Jake’s PA. He’s in his late forties with silver-gray hair and heavy-set features. He smiles at me before I return to my cell. Something about him makes me uneasy, so I subtly shift further away. I wrap my free arm around myself, guarding my body.

“You’re Emma Anderson, right?” his gruff voice interrupts my obvious disinterest in him, and I glance over and frown.

“I am, yes. Why do you ask?” Looking him up and down, I note the well-tailored gray suit and expensive shoes; he must be one of the executives rather than just the office staff. He has an air of wealth and confidence about him and the arrogance of a man who always gets what he wants.

You know? Like Jake.

“I’m Dan Gabrielle.” He extends a hand, and the name rings a bell, yet I can’t place it for the life of me. I’m normally good with faces and names.

“Pleasure,” I answer coolly, shaking his hot, rough hand and trying to stand as gracefully as I can to the side. My brain connects the dots, and I finally recognize him. Dan Gabrielle is one of Carreros’ top-tier executives. He deals with the merchandising of the beauty and grooming products. I’ve heard many rumors about this man and his lifestyle from the office staff. He’s known as someone to steer well clear of among the women. It’s only my dumb luck that I would get trapped in an elevator alone with him after hours.

“I heard you used to be Jake’s PA. I’ve been looking for a new girl myself; my last one left suddenly.” He smirks, and an odd glint in his eye causes my stomach to lurch in apprehension. I wonder how many advances she rebuffed before leaving, knowing all too well the kind of behavior executives like him sometimes use on their PAs, especially since I have first-hand experience of it with Dawson.

“I’m not looking for another PA position within this company. I’m working with Wilma Munro on events and such.” I look away, pushing my cell into my bag to give me something else to focus on. He moves closer, his gaze focused on the blouse’s neckline under my fitted jacket. Seeing the disgusting grin widening on his face, I realize he’s found the slightest hint of cleavage peeking out from the silky fabric. My stomach drops, and my nerves flutter as alarm bells drown out everything in a crazy manic fashion.

Sexual harassment is common in the offices, more common than people like to admit, and this guy is giving serious vibes. I’ve been here before; I’ve handled this kind of thing multiple times before working for Jake. I know most of the higher-ups here would never believe me, but Jake never made me feel this way in all the time he was with me, not once, regardless of his hands-on approach.

“I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement.” He moves closer, so close his arm is against my shoulder. My other shoulder is against the elevator wall; there’s nowhere else for me to go. “I need a pretty girl with good skills. I hear Jake couldn’t keep up with you, so he had to let you go.” The slimy snake-like tone in his smarmy voice causes my chin to snap up and glare at him. I know what he’s hinting at; he’s heard rumors, or assumed, that Jake and I were having sex.

Oh, my God.

“I don’t know what you’re implying, but I’m not interested,” I spit angrily, trying to move back but feel the wall behind me. It’s closer than I thought it was.

It doesn’t stop him from shifting even closer, caging me in, so I am trapped.

“I’m a believer in never saying never, Miss Anderson. I normally get what I want. I’ve seen you around the building… I particularly like the attire.” He leans into me and whispers, “Tight, fuckable skirts and sexy stilettos.” He runs a hand up the side of my tight pencil skirt, from thigh to hip, then travels across the front, heading toward the apex of my thighs. His touch causes revulsion and bile to creep up my throat, and I shove him away hard, using all my strength, forcing him to stagger back.

No…no…no! Why does this shit always happen to me?

Just like Dawson when I worked for him and his wandering hands! What the hell is it about me that screams, ‘Touch me’?

“Get the hell away from me!” I spit at him. Hearing the door ping, I run out at full speed, overcome with manic fear and not caring if anyone sees my erratic departure, and run smack into a brick wall.

“Fuck,” grunts the wall. There’s a thud and an “oomph” as we both hit the floor, my arms flailing as I nosedive with it, then a groan. Despite my shift from horizontal to vertical at speed, I am cushioned nicely.

I’m lying fully on top of someone’s warm, hard body. Their arms move around my waist to stop me from sliding as I struggle to take a breath; the fall must’ve knocked the wind out of me.

“Jesus, Emma! A hello would have sufficed.”

I groan at Jake’s voice and raise my head, coming nose-to-nose with him. His perfect green eyes lock onto mine from an intimate angle as memories flood into my brain and bring instant face heat.

Really? It had to be him! Of all people. Why him?

I push myself up quickly from sheer embarrassment and haul myself to my feet ungracefully. Two men are standing close by, watching us with amusement while one of them leans down and helps Jake to his feet, picking up his cell in the process and handing it to him.

“I’m sorry,” I breathe out heavily, panting. I look back at the lift, but it’s shut, and I sag with relief. That creep has gone, but my body still vibrates with adrenaline and fear.

“What was that all about?” He smooths down his clothes before reaching out to push back a strand of my hair. Realizing what he’s doing, he moves back quickly, dropping his hand to his side. I glance at the other men awkwardly; both seem to be staring anywhere but at us. They mutter something incoherently and move off to give us space.

“Your employees are all assholes,” I bite, shaken by the encounter and speaking without thinking. The past me wouldn’t have said anything about this. But I’m not the past me anymore, and the new me is sick of men thinking I’m a free-for-all. I am so done with being an object for sleazy creeps to grope.

“Why? What’s happened? Is that why you came thundering out of the elevator, tackling me like a Jets linebacker?” He smiles at me gently and adjusts his jacket again, looking down to button it back up and smooth his tie behind it. I can’t help but begin to smile too.

“Maybe.” I look away, embarrassed about this whole thing.

“Who was in there?” He thumbs toward the elevator doors, curiosity on his face. “Wasn’t my father by any chance?” He smirks, knowing too well his father is someone I would call an asshole. Jake and I share that kind of love for him.

“No. Your father, unlike you, knows to keep his hands to himself.” I regret it as soon as it’s out of my mouth, and I catch the darkness move into his eyes instantly, the grim look on his face that turns to psycho mode.

Oops. Good one, Emma!

“Someone laid their hands on you?! In there…right now?... Tell me who! Tell me, Emma!” He steps close enough to intimidate me. His voice is laced with anger. All jest evaporated, and the Jake who beat Ray to a pulp stands before me. I sway over whether to tell him and know it’s not wise to evade this. The two men have moved farther off, trying not to eavesdrop as Jake gets considerably louder.

Me and my big mouth!

“He said his name was Gabrielle…Dan, I think.” It comes out in a feeble mumble, and I can’t look him in the eye. I watch as his jaw tenses. He looks over my head at the elevator doors, his eyes narrow and jaw taut.

“I know exactly who he is.” Snarling, he grabs my hand and pulls me with him, so I almost stumble. I’m jerked behind him as he throws a wave to his escorts, indicating he’s leaving. They hover for a second, then walk off, assured he is dismissing them.

“Where are you dragging me?” I try to free my hand, but he continues holding tight, hauling me toward the internal offices on this floor. My heart is racing, and my head is protesting every second.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“To use an office. You need a seat, and I need to have that motherfucker fired.” He sounds terrifying. His voice is laced with venom, and his muscles are rigid. A jolt of adrenaline shoots through me.

Is this what I want?

Oh, my God, the drama that will come because of this. It’s not the first time I’ve been groped in this building, but it’s the first time I’ve told anyone…told Jake.

“Wait, no. Jake, wait!” I panic, but he hauls me inside a small office and shuts the door behind us. Ignoring me, he swivels a chair around and, grabbing me by the arms, sits me in it briskly, pushing me around like a rag doll. He perches on the desk beside me and pulls out his cell, his eyes gleaming with rage. I know better than to try to stand back up.

“Tell me exactly what happened. What he did, every detail.” He’s spitting razor blades; his expression is serious, yet I hesitate.

Maybe I overreacted or misjudged the scenario…

My face pales, unsure if I should tell him everything, but I know he won’t let this go.