by Cece Rose
I watch as Jay crosses the room and slowly pulls down all of the blinds, cutting off the rest of the office to give us complete privacy. Once they’re all closed, I hear the deafening turn of the lock on the door and gulp anxiously. This really can’t be good. He strides back across the room, strutting like a fucking peacock, before climbing up and sitting on the table close to me.
I push my chair back a bit to give myself some more space. I don’t like how he’s looking down at me, so I tug my shirt up a little, paranoid he can see too much.
Having a curvy frame sucks sometimes. Clothes that cover and look modest on mannequins almost always end up looking a little provocative on me, thanks to my chest, hips, and ass. The rest of the world never lets you forget that when you’re a curvy girl, either.
“While I’m shouting at the newbie for questioning my management, you decide that that is the opportune moment to do the very same?” he asks, scooting a little closer. Why do men have to sit with their damn legs apart? I am way too close to his crotch for comfort right now.
“I didn’t mean to question your management, it’s just that he’s new. Can’t you cut him some slack?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even and stay calm. My grandma always said you catch more flies with honey than vinegar, and Jay reminds me so much of a fly. Small, annoying, and pesky, they always fly around when you don’t want them near.
“And what about you, Harlow? Should I cut you some slack too?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, and I shudder at the sound of it. Creep.
“Well, I don’t think I deserve to be sacked for sticking up for Gideon. He’s new. He’ll get the memo to keep his mouth shut and fall in line like the rest of the robots that work here,” I respond, cringing at the robot comment, worried I may get in trouble for that one, but he laughs.
“I’m not going to fire you, Kayla,” he says, and I let out a relieved breath. “I mean, without you and Lizzy here, what else would I beat myself off to when I get home?” he adds, and I suck that breath right back in. He did not just say that. I choke on the air and he laughs, like it’s all just a joke to him. Maybe it is.
“You really did not just say that,” I whisper in shock. He’s been crude before, but nothing so direct, so blatant. Other than at the work Christmas party, anyway. Jay continues speaking, as if he didn’t hear me.
“If you really want me to give you a break, we could continue our fun from the Christmas party?” he suggests, and I instantly feel sick to my stomach. I’d assumed he was too drunk to fully remember exactly what happened, other than me turning him down. I’m suddenly right back there, like it’s happening all over again. I can feel his hands grabbing my ass roughly as he tries to shove his slimy tongue into my mouth. I shove him off the desk, just like I shoved him off me that night. I’d grabbed Lizzy and left straight after, not in the mood to get drunk and be merry after that invasion of space. I look down, seeing his eyes blazing with anger from where he sits on the floor.
“Screw you, asshole,” I bite out, turning on my heel as I head for the door. His hand grabs my shoulder as I reach for the lock, trying to pull me back. I use my magic to unlock the door and pull it open as I shove him away with my hands. “Keep your fucking hands off me!” I snap, storming out of the room. I realise just how loudly I’d shouted as I walk through the office, and my cheeks flame. Everyone is staring at me as I walk across the busy floor. I make my way to my desk, feeling like I’m doing a damn walk of shame as I grab my leather tote bag and coat.
“I’m leaving early,” I mumble to Lizzy, feeling my fingers itch, my magic wanting to slip out. I have to get out of here now, before it’s too late to hide it. The trouble I’d get in with the High Coven is much worse than the trouble I’ll get in for leaving work early. So much worse. Lizzy nods her head and goes to say something, but I’m already walking away, heading for the exit.
Every single pair of eyes watches me as I push the lift call button and wait for the doors to open. I feel a small sense of relief when they finally do. Stepping inside, I keep my eyes down as I push the button for the ground floor. It isn’t until the doors shut, leaving me alone and unwatched, that I look up, catching my own eyes in the mirrored walls of the lift. A couple of stray tears work their way down my cheeks. They’re not from sadness, but from anger. Fuck, I hate being an angry crier; nobody takes you seriously when you start crying. Swallowing thickly, I straighten my shoulders and quickly wipe away those damned tears rolling down my face. I don’t want any weakness to show once those lift doors open again.
Screw that asshole. I’m done with his shit. I’m a witch, damn it, and I’ll be damned if I let a puny, annoying, creep of a human treat me this way. He won’t get away with this again. It’s every witch for herself now.