Chapter 10

It's dark out by the time I look up. I stretch out my back and get out of my seat. I've placed more than twenty calls, emailed back and forth with several PAs dealing with invites for various important people, and I've liaised with the event planner. I'm sure there's nothing else I can do tonight since it's nearly 7.00 p.m. The weather's moving toward winter so the sun's setting earlier. I didn't expect it to be this dark. I regret staying so late, since the walk from the station in Queens will be dark and slightly frightening. I clear up my desk and power down my laptop then pick up my coat and bag, walking 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, I look up to notice it's stopped at the fourteenth floor. Odd, since very few staff stay beyond five thirty. I don't think Jake and I ever left before seven when I worked with him, but he always was a workaholic. The door opens and I'm expecting another empty floor; my eyes focused on my cell, checking messages. Someone comes in, a male. I can see his shoes and trousers from this angle, and he stands close to me, a little too close. His aftershave takes over the space, sticking in my throat, 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. There's something about him that makes me uneasy, so I move further away, subtly. I wrap my 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 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 for the life of me I can't place it. I'm normally good with faces and names. "Pleasure," I answer coolly, shaking his hot, rough hand and retract to stand as gracefully as I can to the side. My brain connects the dots and I recognize him. Dan Gabrielle is one of the Carrero's top tier executives. He deals with merchandising the beauty and grooming products. I've heard so 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 stupid 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 the executives sometimes like to 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, gaze stilling on the neckline of the blouse under my fitted jacket. With a disgusting grin widening on his face I realize he's found the slightest hint of cleavage peeking out at the top of my clothes. My stomach drops and my nerves start to flutter. Alarm bells drowning 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, handled this kind of thing multiple times before working for Jake. I know most of those high-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. I'm 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 your implying, but I'm not interested." I spit angrily, trying to move back but feel the wall come up behind me, it's closer than I thought it was. It doesn't stop him 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 talks into my ear, "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 so he forcibly staggers 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 yell at him, hearing the door ping. I run out at full speed, not caring if anyone sees my manic departure and run smack into a brick wall. "Fuck," grunts the wall. There's an "ooomph" and a groan, then a thud as we both hit the floor. I'm lying fully on top of someone's warm, hard body. Their arms around my waist as I scramble 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 locking onto mine from a far too intimate angle, memories flood into my brain. 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. There's two men standing close by watching us with amusement, one of them leans down and helps Jake to his feet, picking up his cell in the process, handing it to him. "I'm sorry." I breathe, panting. I look back at the lift, but it's shut … that creep has gone but my body is still vibrating with adrenaline and fear. "What was that all about?" He smooths down his clothes before reaching out to drape 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 where we are, 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 this isn't the past me anymore, and new me is sick of men thinking I'm a free for all. "Why? What's happened? Is this the reason you came thundering out of the lift like a pro footballer, tackling me in a take-down?" 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 lift door, 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 make me feel intimidated, his voice laced with anger. I sway over whether to tell him or not and know it's not wise to evade this. The two men have moved far off now, trying not to eavesdrop as Jake gets considerably louder. Me and my big mouth! "He said he was called 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 lift door, his eyes narrow and jaw taught. "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, throwing a wave to his escorts, indicating he's leaving. They seem to hover for a second then walk off assured he is dismissing them. "Where are you hauling me?" I try to pull my hand free, but he continues, holding tight, dragging me to the internal offices of 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 mother fucker 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 round and sits me in it briskly, grabbing me by the arms, pushing me around like a rag doll. He perches on the desk beside me, pulling out his cell, his eyes gleaming with rage and 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 and 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.