Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
I shimmy my shoulders, pulling Janet back into another, shorter hug.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” I shout over the buzz of voices and clinking glasses.
“It has been a minute, yes,” Janet agrees. “And I’m still reeling from the last bombshell you dropped about your boss.”
“To be honest, that feels like it’s from another lifetime, already,” I nervously laugh.
“I can’t believe you just walked out on the guy…” She flags the bartender and orders two more of her specialties.
Judging by the salt-rimmed glasses, we’re talking margaritas—perfect. I need the fuel.
“What other choice did I have?” I reply with a shrug. “I couldn’t… you know.”
“Oh, trust me, I get it,” she says. “Problem is… He’s spinning the whole thing in his favor. My manager hates his guts, though, so I know for a fact that not everybody is buying his version.”
Janet still works in the same building I did, though thankfully under a different, non-creepy boss. That’s how we became friends in the first place. Sharing our daily lives by the coffee machine or trading quick jokes by the watercooler.
She and I differ in many respects, but Janet sees things clearly, steering me back on track whenever I start to slip.
“He wanted me to sleep with him,” I grimly remind her.
“Did he say that?” Janet asks, genuinely curious. “Or was it one of his not-so-HR-friendly jokes he’s already notorious for around the office?”
“Not exactly in those words,” I admit. “But it was clear. He always had something to say about the way I dressed. Like, ‘Can’t you wear something more attractive?’ or ‘You’re hiding your best assets.’”
“No way!” Janet interjects.
“Yeah,” I tell her. “He actually told me I have a “nice rack” and that I was doing the company a disservice by wearing bulky sweaters.”
“Ugh.” Janet groans. “I think I just puked a little in my mouth. Why didn’t you ever give me the details on that scumbag? I knew he was awful, and it wasn’t hard to notice you could barely stomach him, but I chalked it up to the toxic company culture. I had no idea it was this bad.”
“Honestly, I hoped he’d eventually get bored—that another intern would come along or he’d leave me alone once he saw I wouldn’t cave.”
She laughs. “Honey, the man is well known for being a relentless skirt-chaser outside the company. I’ve heard rumors inside the company before, too, but none of the accusations stuck. I’m just… I’m sorry you had to deal with all of that.”
“One day I was in his office, and he was just staring at me. I got up to make him some coffee, and I saw that he had a hard-on,” I confess, feeling all the disgust of that day as if it was happening all over again. “I knew I had to get out, so I just stopped by HR to return my keycard and I left.”
“Did you tell them what he was doing?” Janet asks. “That’s harassment, plain and simple. He would’ve gotten fired, and you wouldn’t have had to leave your job.”
“Are you kidding?” I scoff. “They’ll never fire him. He’s the uncle of one of the board members, and no one would ever believe me without proof. He’d just deny everything.”
“I don’t know, Mac… It’s clearly a pattern,” Janet cuts me off. “What he did was wrong, and you shouldn’t have to suffer for it.”
I roll my eyes as the bartender slides our drinks across the bar. Behind us, a colorful jukebox automatically flips from one song to another, following a preset playlist of weekend favorites from the past couple of decades.
“Excellent—just what the doctor ordered,” I mutter, taking a long sip and licking the salt from the rim.
“How was Sweden?” Janet asks, her lips pressed to the rim of her glass as she studies me.
“So… I need a favor.”
“Terrible way to deflect. But I’ll play along. What’s the favor?” Janet wonders, her eyes sparkling with interest.
“On second thought, I do have to catch you up,” I concede. “I just don’t know where to start.”
“The beginning is always an option. But let’s go somewhere slightly quieter.”
Janet takes the other glass and we move toward the back of the room to find a place to sit. The venue is quite large, with a dance floor and a stage for performances. There are also plenty of booths lining the walls and a few scattered tables where people can congregate to eat and drink.
I snag a booth in the far corner, where the music isn’t quite so loud. Janet sits down opposite me and I begin to fill her in on my Sweden escapade.
“Do you remember the boys I told you about when I was growing up? Bryan’s three best friends who are identical triplets?” I begin.
“Of course,” Janet responds. “You had quite the crush on all three of them, if I recall. You crazy gal…”