by Sajni Patel
My brain told me to shut up and keep this to myself. But that had to be a residual impact from what happened years ago. Because Dad had said it to me. Girls who get assaulted or harassed usually placed themselves in that situation. Why was I alone with a man?
I punched my pillow in its fluffy gut. “Effing screw you, Dad.”
He was wrong.
I snatched up my phone and called Reema.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked in a scratchy, sleepy voice.
“Something has to be wrong?” I asked, hating that my voice wobbled.
“Yes. It’s late. Are you drunk? Do you need me to pick you up?”
I clenched my eyes, and tears streamed down my face. God bless her sweet heart. She wouldn’t ignore my phone call or get irritated if I had been drunk and needed a ride.
“No. I’m home.” The words slipped out with a shudder.
“What happened?” Reema asked, sounding fully alert.
“I had a bad night,” I almost sobbed. “I know it’s late, but…”
Fabric rustled on her end of the phone, and I knew she’d shot out of bed. “Preeti is studying in the living room. I’ll get Sana. We’ll be right over!”
About half an hour later, she’d texted that she was unlocking the door, which I was grateful for. I didn’t want to descend into a panic attack, giving Mike power by fearing that he was breaking into my safe space.
I never felt more overwhelming love for my girls than when we came through for one another. Reema, Preeti, and Sana crawled into bed with me with a solemnness in their eyes.
Sana, without a word, popped open a tub of my favorite Blue Bell ice cream and handed me a spoon first. We quietly gave one another a half smile as I scooped out some sweetness, letting the cold melt on my tongue.
Reema turned on the TV and joked, “Netflix and chill?”
The following morning, I dressed to cover any scratches. In the privacy of the bedroom, Preeti examined my ankle and wrapped it. My ankle was bruised and swollen and hurt to walk on, but it didn’t look too bad.
For the next week, I would have to say goodbye to skirts and high heels and hello to dress pants, compression wraps, and flats.
It took forever to hobble from my car to the building, cross the hall to the elevator, then down another hall to my office, but I made it to work bright and early Monday morning. Mike worked in the building down the street, and we’d run into each other often during lunch. He wouldn’t dare show his face near me again, but if he did, we’d get some crucial things settled. My resolution to face Mike was so vehement within me that I wished Mike would cross my path. I banished any lingering fear and anxiety. I was ready.
Since we had our Jay-led corporate meeting today, I went straight to the boardroom, took my time sitting down, and sighed as soon as I displaced the weight from my ankle. It throbbed and thrummed, and I couldn’t help but slip off my shoe and gently massage the slightly swollen area. Maybe Wendy could bring ice to my office later.
This moment of peace and tranquility at work was alien. Although nice, it didn’t last long. The door opened and Jay walked in, his head down as he read his tablet, a briefcase in the other hand. He wore the hell out of a dark gray suit; tailored lines and expensive fabric that enhanced his physique.
He dropped his briefcase at the end of the table and looked up. He half smiled, but it seemed nothing but sincere.
“You’re here early,” he commented.
“Took my time. Didn’t want to give you a reason to call me out in front of everyone.”
“Ah. That first meeting was probably not my best moment.”
I arched my brows and poked. “You have best moments?”
He laughed. “Ouch. You seem to be in a better mood. How’s the ankle?”
My body warmed, recalling how he’d seen me all frazzled and out of it last night and, to boot, had taken care of me the way he did. “It still hurts, but not as badly.”
“Broken?”
“Preeti says it’s sprained. Nothing serious.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Gratitude hung on the tip of my tongue, but Jay nodded and went about setting up. The fabric of his suit stretched across his back as he scribbled a few things on the whiteboard beside the PowerPoint display. He had broad shoulders and a wide back that tapered at his waist. When he reached up to draw a line over the top of his words, his suit jacket arched up and tugged against a very nice backside.
I bit my lower lip and glared at the notes on my tablet. What was I doing?
Within minutes, the awkward silence dismantled as the rest of the attendees filed in. The meeting went on as planned, and Jay revealed the extreme situation we were headed into, but most of us had guessed it was coming. Or in my case, knew because he’d told me.
Lawsuits galore were racing toward us. Payouts and settlements were on the forefront. We would hemorrhage money that was owed to customers and patients, as it was the right thing to do, but where did that leave us? Did this company have enough money to keep going? Did we have enough proof of our formidable, albeit imperfect, practices to evade some liability?
I supposed there was no such thing as a stress-free life, no matter my education, career path, position, or pay. There was always one thing or another, but sometimes it was a wonder that I hadn’t given up by now.
Needless to say, my head wasn’t into paying attention to the fiscal mess today. There was only so much I could do, but at least Jay was a nice distraction. Easy on the eyes and the ears. Part of me wanted to scold myself for even liking him this way, but the other part kept reminiscing about last night. The way he had taken care of me, asked if it was okay to touch me, made sure I didn’t feel threatened or scared or belittled, as if I needed a man to save me.
Because I didn’t.
But it was nice to know he was there and willing.
After others bustled out of the conference room, Sam asked, “Are you feeling all right, Liya?”
“Yes, why?”
“You’re unusually quiet.”
“It’s a lot of work on our shoulders. Time to close our mouths, put our heads down, and get to work.”
“Spoken like a true leader. I’m proud of you.”
“Proud that I can keep my mouth shut?” I smirked, only half joking.
He grinned. “Among other things, but yes. Don’t worry too much; we’ll work our butts off, and if our best isn’t enough to keep this place floating, then I know we will all be fine elsewhere.”
I nodded as everyone gathered their things and left. Reassuring words or ominous forewarning? There were three things we could do: quit; work our hardest to keep the company afloat and hope the board appreciated us; or slow down the momentum and do a half-assed job as long as the paychecks rolled in.
Given my work ethic, I did not bow. I rose to the challenge with a game face…unlike how I rose to my feet with little grace and a lot of pain.
“Are you sure you don’t want to have that x-rayed?” Jay asked from across the room.
We were alone. Again.
“No. It should be fine,” I insisted, and gripped the edge of the table for support as I walked around the corner.
Jay held the door open, and I paused to glare at him. “What?” he asked.
I sighed.
“Get it out. Come on. What do you have to say now?”
I shook my head and glanced away. “I am not a damsel in distress.”
“No one ever said you were.”
“But you thought it.”
“Oh, did I now?” he asked, his right brow arched.
“Yes. You thought it when you saw me at the diner.”
He arrogantly laughed. “I would’ve done the same thing for anyone I knew.”
“You would’ve waited for one of the security guards from downstairs?”
He nodded and replied, “Yes. I would’ve given them a ride home.”
“And you would’ve helped them to their apartment?”
“Yes.�
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“And carried them to the bathroom?”
“Well, no. Have you seen those guys? They’re like NFL players. I wouldn’t have been able to carry them.”
I cut down my smile before it had a chance to fully form. “And you would’ve cleaned their feet?”
“I would’ve given them a washcloth, water, medicine, and ice. Look. I’m not saying I didn’t go the extra mile with you. But what I am saying is that no one thinks you’re weak or incapable of taking care of yourself. You’re human, not a damsel in distress who needs saving. I am not a chauvinistic, egotistical man who thinks you need me. I’m just a nice guy who helped out. That’s all. No one’s reading anything into this except you.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes. Trust me, I don’t expect a woman to be fragile all the time and unable to figure things out on her own. No one ever doubts that you’re an intelligent, capable woman.”
“Oh,” I breathed. “Good. I wanted to be clear on that.”
He tapped the doorknob that was gripped between his fingers. “Now I don’t know if I should let you walk ahead of me and risk getting scolded, or walk ahead of you and risk having something thrown at me.”
I laughed, which surprised us both. “How about letting the injured go first? That way you can do both—close the door and still pass me in the hall to get to the elevator.”
“Sounds appropriate.”
I twisted my lips. “Don’t sound so sarcastic.”
He shrugged. “I can’t say ‘ladies first’ around you. But when that ankle is healed, it’s every man for himself.”
“Are you saying that I’m a man?” I asked as I hobbled past him.
“You are most definitely not a man, Liya,” he muttered.
I’d only made it about three steps before Jay reappeared at my side.
“Do you need a wheelchair?” he asked, amusement lacing his deep voice.
“I don’t think that will help. Unless Wendy wants to push me around all day.” I shook my head. “No, I’m fine.”
We parted ways at the elevator. He was off to his next meeting, and I was heading back to my old lab. Time to micromanage, I supposed.
The lab smelled like chemicals and cleaners, metal and plastic. The counters were cluttered with pipettes and microscopes, computers and monitors.
I cut through the lobby to get to some of the offices on the other end of the floor, but as soon as I turned the corner, my body flared hot. Why was Mike here?
I could go two ways: curl into myself and be scared, awkward, as if last night was all on me. Or I could be pissed, in his face, and remind him not to ever screw with me again.
I chose the latter. And while anger wasn’t the emotion I wanted to rely on, it sure was a hell of a lot better than feeling like the victim.
What did he think he was doing in my building talking to my coworkers? Sure, they were friends of his, but if Mike thought he could creep into my space, then he was about to get a serious wake-up call.
Mike chatted with two other guys and boasted about his recent sexual conquest. AKA me.
“Was she as hot in bed as she looks?” the one to the right asked.
“So hot,” Mike replied, earning pathetic cheers. “That thing she does with her tongue…god damn.”
I actually felt my blood boil.
“So she’s a freak? All nasty in the right ways?” the second guy asked.
“Oh, yeah. And she was begging for it, calling me ‘daddy’ and telling me to fu—”
“Telling you to what?” I growled.
The first guy had the common sense to look away, wipe that lascivious smile off his face, and pretend he hadn’t heard anything as he skulked past me. The second was as idiotic as Mike, apparently, since he stayed in the lobby, looking like he wanted to know everything that was about to happen.
Mike shrugged, and for a moment I thought he’d try to play it off. If he had done that, then guy one and guy two might’ve gotten the hint that Mike might not be telling the truth after all. But Mike, like most lying scum, wanted to save face.
“You knew that I would probably say something to my friends about our amazing night, right?” he said.
“Which part of it? The nice French dinner?” I asked sweetly, and guy two grinned. “Or where you tried to do me in your car for your security buddy to get us on tape?”
Mike took a step toward me, his face still a little too smug.
“Or how about when I bitch-slapped you?”
Guy two’s mouth dropped, and finally he got the hint. He made his way toward the exit, where I stood, but I put a hand out and said, “Stay. Really. You might want to hear how Mike called me a whore when I did not put out.”
His face paled, as if this was the last place on earth he wanted to be right now.
“And would you like to hear about how he got aggressive because I didn’t open my legs for him? Or how he left me stranded in the middle of nowhere? Speaking of, jackass, I broke my most expensive heels because of you and sprained my ankle.”
Then I looked at my coworkers and sternly added, “I’m going to see both of you in one hour in my office. I better not catch you in this type of conversation again or you’ll be heading straight to HR. Am I understood?”
They nodded and darted away as I hobbled toward Mike. “You owe me fourteen hundred dollars.”
“I don’t owe you a damn thing.”
“Oh, you think that? I’m going to give you thirty seconds to leave my building.”
He clenched his lips and stood over me, as if that intimidation worked. There was a certain nauseating feeling that Mike might’ve done this before. He seemed way too cool and confident, which made me wonder if other women had been too scared to speak out against him.
“What are you going to do, Mike? Hit me?” Yes, Mike, anger me even more so this nagging sliver of fear slips away. I could do rage all day. I couldn’t do fear. Not again. Never again.
“I have plenty of friends in this building. You can’t stop me from talking to them.”
“Why are you such a dick?”
“I thought you liked dicks.”
I fumed hotter by the second. My knuckles turned ghastly white as I made fists, and if I didn’t walk away right now, I would certainly be fired…and then arrested for assault. He wasn’t worth the trouble or the jail time.
I sneered. I calmly whipped out my cell phone and took a picture.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Leave now, jackass, or you’ll be removed and handed over to the police. Your picture will be with security. Oh, wait. There’s security.” I flagged down the broad gentleman in uniform.
James, playing his position with authority, looped his thumbs into his belt and marched over. “Hi, Liya. Need something?” he asked in a baritone voice.
“Hello, James. Do you mind showing this man to the exit?”
He eyed Mike when he asked me, “Is there a problem here?”
I glared at a suddenly very restrained Mike. “Is there a problem?”
“No.” He spoke carefully. “I’m leaving right now.”
And although I didn’t ask James to walk him out anyway, he followed Mike and glanced back at me. I gave him a reassuring and thankful nod.
As soon as Mike left, I released a shuddering breath. I absolutely hated that he had me shaking, even if it was just one sigh.
Chapter Eleven
Jay
The small and packed restaurant smelled divine—at least according to an empty, rumbling stomach. At this rate I’d eat that unappealing split pea soup on the counter. For a second, I considered taking something up to Liya, something better than green soup, of course, so she wouldn’t have to spend half an hour limping back and forth to get lunch, but she had an assistant for that. And why did such a thought even cross my mind?
While stuffing my face with enchiladas and salad, I read over some of my notes at a small table in the corner. The crowd had thickened in the last ten minute
s, and so had the lunch hour commotion. I was distracted by a pair of loud guys to my right.
“She was pissed,” the first said.
“I thought she was going to fire us,” the second added.
I shook my head. Well, if they made a mistake big enough to upset their boss, then maybe they deserved a scare. Also, maybe they needed to quiet the hell down.
“Do you think she slept with him?”
“I have no idea. Mike didn’t even look fazed when she caught him talking about her.”
Mike? Huh. Couldn’t be the same Mike who had asked Liya out. She had turned him down.
“She was probably just pissed because Mike was blabbing about their night.”
I clenched my jaw unexpectedly, reeled into their conversation as if it were a blow-by-blow play of the Super Bowl.
“Yeah, for sure. No girl likes that. I don’t know, and by how scary she was, I don’t even care anymore. Mike can keep his sex scandals to himself.”
“She is fine, though.”
“Yeah, no doubt.”
“There’s got to be something with those Indian chicks.”
I exhaled. How many Mikes around here recently asked out an Indian woman?
I clenched and unclenched my fists. Had he done something to Liya that night she showed up at the diner?
I couldn’t finish my lunch. It was about to come up any minute with the disgust and anger raging through me.
The guys went into details of what “Mike the man” had said. The things she did with her mouth, with her tongue, things only pros knew how to do so well.
I slammed down my drink, startling them. Our eyes met, and they clamped their mouths.
“Are you talking about Liya?” I growled.
“Uh, you know her?” the first asked with a snicker.
“Yeah. Are you talking about Liya and Mike?”
The second guy nodded.
I wiped my mouth with a napkin and crumpled it over my plate. “You do realize you can get fired for malicious gossip and defamation of character?”
He raised his hands. “Look, man. We’re just talking about something that happened today. We are not interested in them anymore. That’s way too much drama.”
