by L. L Hunter
Lexi Dean turns gay after workplace sexual abuse…
* * *
Like mother, like daughter... Lexi Dean caught kissing another woman in nightclub. Picture goes viral. Was it a copycat stunt in order to gain her own fame?
22
A few days later, I got a text message from Mr. Booth. It was precisely six in the evening, and I was just sitting down to eat dinner with my family. My phone beeped loudly beside me. I picked it up and almost choked on my food.
“Lexi, what is it?” asked Jordan, concerned.
“It’s from my old boss, Mr. Booth. He’s threatening to sue me for slander!”
“What? He can’t do that!” my dad said.
“I wouldn’t worry about it, sweetie,” said Mom. “he’s probably bluffing. Men like that are full of hot air and empty promises. They’re actually insecure and cowardly.”
“I don’t know if he’s bluffing. He makes me feel uncomfortable. And my dream… and what he said… he’s threatened me before.”
“Yeah, but did that actually happen, what he threatened you about?”
“Well… no. But…”
“Then, as your mom said, he’s probably bluffing. Don’t worry about it. Don’t reply to him. We’ll get our lawyer to look at it and deal with it.”
I was no longer hungry. I had lost my appetite because of him. in fact, I felt sick.
“May I be excused? I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed early.”
“Okay, sweetie. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I stood from the table and took my plate to the kitchen before making my way upstairs.
“I’ll bring you up some herbal tea soon,” my mom called after me.
“Okay.” I went into my room and lay on my bed. All I could think about was his words, and his menacing frame, the way he undressed in front of me and asked me to suck him… I shuddered. Ugh. I felt so dirty.
What had I gotten myself into? I turned over and sobbed into my pillow.
I woke up a few hours later, still in my clothes. It was pitch dark in my room, with only the moon outside high in the sky telling me it was still the middle of the night. I was suddenly wide awake, and with the ghosts of my nightmare haunting me, I knew I couldn’t rest or move past this until I faced him again. I picked up my phone and texted Raven.
“Hey, Rae,” I began, using my nickname for her. “where does Mr. Booth live?”
Her reply came a few seconds later. She was a night owl, so I knew she would probably be awake at this hour.
“Why do you want his address? What are you up to?”
“I want to send him a letter,” I lied. In reality, I was going to visit him in person and end this once and for all.
After tonight, he wouldn’t be able to intimidate me anymore.
“Get ’em, girl xx,” she texted, then she sent me his address. I looked up the directions as I got out of bed and dressed. I put on black clothing and sneakers that were comfortable, in case I needed to run.
“Thank you xx,” I replied, then put my phone on my nightstand so no one would be able to track me. I had to do this alone. No one else would understand.
Then I opened my French doors leading to the balcony in my room and climbed down the creeping plant on the side of my house. I made my way to the underground garage and rolled my little car out of the garage. I started it as quietly as I could once I got in and didn’t turn on my headlights until I was on the road.
23
Mr. Booth’s house was in a cheaper neighborhood a little bit out of town. I rolled up outside the modest one-floor home and doubled checked the address Raven had sent me. It was correct.
The front of the house was a mess, with an overgrown lawn and shrubs, and a couple of old cars in the driveaway. It struck me as odd that the manager of one of the nicest theatres in L.A. would live like this.
As I got out of the car, finally finding enough courage to confront him, the sensor light came on. I heard a few large dogs barking from inside the house, and a few seconds later, a light came on.
I walked toward the front door, and it opened before I could even climb the front porch stairs.
“Who’s there? Leave now, or I’ll shoot you or set my dogs on you.”
“Mr. Booth, Michael Booth, it’s me. Lexi Dean. I just need to speak with you.”
I held my arms up in surrender and stood in the light shining from inside the house. Mr. Booth’s large frame filled the doorframe, and he squinted into the light.
“Lexi? What are you doing here? Stalking me now?”
“I just want to talk. I was hoping we could work things out without going to court. Can you please restrain your dogs and let me come in?”
“I can’t do that. Would you be able to retract your comments about me harassing you?” he said as he folded his arms across his body.
“No, I can’t because you know what? It’s the truth. Are you asking me to keep silent? Cover up what happened? Because I can’t. It’s wrong. What you’re doing with the other women, exerting your power over them, is wrong.”
“You have no proof. Leave now before I call the cops.”
“I actually have plenty of proof. I’ve been collecting statements from the women at the theatre and your past workplaces. I’ve done my research. And you know what I’ve found out?”
“What?” he scoffed. He began to shift his wait and look around uncomfortable. I was making him squirm.
Good.
“That you were dismissed from four previous workplaces for sexual misconduct and harassment. FOUR! Then I wondered, how on earth does someone with that many misdemeanors to their name get the manager’s position at one of the most prestigious theatres in the world?”
“I got there by working hard.”
“Yeah, working hard to lie and threaten your way to the top. There’s only one way men like you get to the top of a company – by sleeping, cheating, lying, and blackmailing your way to the top. I’m going to expose you. You can’t get away with this any longer.”
Then I turned and started walking back to my car. I heard him cackle like the villain he was, then heavy footsteps on concrete and wet grass followed.
And then I was being held against his chest with a gun to my head.
“Mr. booth?” I gasped. “what are you doing?”
“I won’t let you get away with this. Get in your car. This gun is loaded.”
He clicked off the safety on the gun.
“Oh… okay. I’m going. I’m leaving.”
I tried to walk away, but he still had a firm grasp on me.
“No. I’m coming with you. I can’t let you go and talk to the media or your journalist mommy. Hop in your car. We’re going for a little drive.”
Now I was afraid. What had I gotten myself into?
I was beginning to realize it was a mistake coming here.
He pushed me toward my car with the gun to my back. It was dark, but we had probably woken the neighbors by now.
Good. I hoped there were witnesses to this crime.
I climbed into the driver’s seat, and Mr. Booth slid into the passenger seat.
“Drive to the theatre.”
“Okay. Why the theatre?”
“I want our final scenes to be dramatic,” he cackled.
24
I drove into the underground staff parking garage below the theatre. Mr. Booth walked behind me, holding the gun on me the entire way. I heard the jingle of keys. He pushed me toward the elevator, and we rode it to the foyer. When we reached the foyer, he grabbed my arm and pulled me over to the security system near the front doors and typed in a code.
“Upstairs, we go.”
“Where are we going?”
“Quiet. Just walk.”
I did as he told me and made my way upstairs to the dress circle floor. The theatre was dark. He hadn’t turned on the lights yet.
My heart pounded hard against my rib cage.
This was it. My nightmare was about to become a reality.
<
br /> “This way. Go.” he shoved my back, and I felt the coldness of the gun barrel against my back through my thin clothing. I pushed through the velvet curtains and made my way into the auditorium.
In my dream, I had escaped him when he confronted me in the coat closet and ran into the auditorium. Now, I had no chance to run. He had a loaded gun against my back and could choose to shoot me if I made a run for it. I was at the mercy of this mad man.
Why had I been so stupid as to confront him?
“Go down the front. You and I are going to have a little fun.”
I descended the steep stairs to the front of the dress circle. He gestured for me to sit in the front row, then he stood in front of me and leaned against the balcony railing.
I didn’t want to think of what his ‘fun’ would entail.
But just as my suspicions were confirmed, he started unbuckling his belt.
I felt sick and began to shake.
“Please,” I begged, my voice shaking. “I just wanted to talk.”
“Oh, I like how you beg for me, Lexi. This just makes this all the more fun.”
“Please, let me go. I’ll retract the statement.”
“I just want to have a little fun with you. Ever since you walked into my theatre, I have fantasized about you, Lexi. You’re so fucking sexy. I love your eyes. Your lips and I have imagined those very lips around my cock.”
Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I held back a sob. He was really going to make me do that disgusting act. But it was either that or die.
He pulled down his pants, followed by his white, stained underpants.
I felt like vomiting.
His penis already stood erect before me. It pulsed and throbbed. Oh, god. He wasn’t lying.
I had really been this guy’s fantasy.
He began to stroke himself up and down. His dick was smaller than I thought it might be. Which was typical. I laughed inside my head. A guy like him was often compensating for something.
“I know you want to, Lexi. Go on. Take me in your mouth, and then this will all be over.”
The last thing I wanted to do was put any piece of this sleazebag in my mouth.
But he held the gun…. No, he didn’t. The gun was now resting on the ledge beside him.
All I had to do was knock it over the edge, and then I would be free to run. He was too distracted by his own penis.
I used that to my advantage.
“You know, I’ve always wondered what giving a blow job was like.”
“Well, here’s your chance. It’s as fun as it is for me as it is for you.”
I wriggled forward in my seat and braced both my shoes on either side of his body on the ledge. I pretended to lean forward to take him in my mouth, but at the last second, I kicked the gun over the ledge. It flew down to the bottom level and went off when it hit one of the plush chairs below. Stuffing exploded all over the surrounding seats. We both dropped to the floor. I flung myself to the left, and he ducked down where he stood.
“Son of a bitch!”
Now was my chance. I crawled on hands and knees down the next row toward the fire exit. If I could make it and push open the heavy door, I would be able to escape.
I heard the jingle of a belt and the shuffle of shoes on carpet. I glanced behind and saw Mr. Booth desperately trying to pull up his pants and run after me.
“Come back here, you little bitch! You will pay for this!”
I had almost reached the end of the row. Mr. Booth had now done up his pants and belt and was halfway across the theatre. I crawled faster. All I had to do was jump up and run toward the exit door, which was only about ten feet in front of me.
But just as I reached the end of my row and was about to climb down the stairs toward the exit door, Mr. Booth grabbed my ankle.
I screamed, and then someone else shouted.
It wasn’t Mr. Booth.
“Freeze! Put your hands up, Michael Booth!”
I glanced up toward the top of the tiered seating to see several police officers running inside with guns drawn and flashlights sweeping the theatre. I held my hands up and covered my head and lay on the ground in a fetal position.
It was over. It was all over at last.
The police arrested Michael Booth that night and charged him at the station with several counts of sexual harassment and even kidnapping. My parents met me at the police station after I left my statement. My parents’ attorney said I didn’t have to testify in court if it ever got to that point, which it probably would. But I said I wanted to. I couldn’t let this go. I had to speak up. I had a blanket draped around my shoulders when they arrived and was about to be taken to the hospital for a medical assessment. My father had a word with them and told them they would get me the help I needed.
I was then allowed to go home a few hours later.
After I showered and dressed in my pajamas, even though it was now morning and the sun was streaming through my curtains, my parents let me stay in bed for the rest of the day. They brought me herbal tea and all the dumplings I wanted. I wasn’t hungry, but I sipped on the drink and thought about what had just happened.
“Let me know when you want to talk about it,” my mom said. “your dad and I here. Without judgment. Even though we were worried sick about you. Please know this is not your fault, sweetheart.”
“But it is,” I said, my voice cracking. “If only I hadn’t gone to his house and confronted him…”
“You didn’t know he was going to do that. Men like that are unpredictable.”
I frowned and wiped away a tear from my eye. I peered into the green liquid of my tea, watching the small bits of tea leaves floating along the bottom of the mug. At least tea leaves didn’t have any worries. Their main job was to make others feel better.
“I know. But…”
She placed a hand on my arm. “Lexi, baby, please don’t blame yourself. Okay? I’ve booked you in to speak with Cynthia, the therapist on set. You can talk to her about anything. It’s all completely confidential.”
I gave a small smile, then sniffled. “Thanks, Mom.”
She kissed my head. “Have a rest, baby. I’m working from home today. So, I’m here if you need me.”
“Okay.”
I lay down in my soft pillow and fell asleep with the help of a sleeping tablet my mom had given me. At least it would stop the nightmares. For now, anyway.
25
Six months later…
Over the past few months, I had been going to see Cynthia and doing small things around the studio, but not much else. I had even stayed off social media. I just wasn’t ready to share my story with anyone yet. Anyone but my therapist.
Raven had messaged me almost every day, but I didn’t want to see her face to face.
It was now my Nineteenth birthday.
When I woke up that morning, my parents were sitting at the end of my bed. Jordan bounded in a few seconds later.
“Happy birthday, Lexi!” they sang together.
I laughed. “Aww, thanks, guys.”
“Here, I got you something,” Jordan said, placing a blue envelope on my nightstand.
“Thanks, baby bro.” I grinned and picked it up. It was rather heavy. I peeked inside and saw a set of car keys along with a birthday card. I pulled out the keys. They looked new.
“What is this?”
“We thought you might need a new car after everything. Plus, your little beast isn’t really good for the environment. It rather defeats the purpose of your brand,” my dad explained.
“Thank you, guys.” I read the card. It was from my number one fans—my mom, dad, and brother.
To our dear Lexi,
We are so lucky to have you.
Happy birthday.
We love you so very much.
* * *
Love, Mom, Dad and Jordy xx
“That’s so sweet. Thank you. I love you guys too.”
I hugged them all.
“Come and see your new c
ar, Lexi! It’s a sweet ride,” said Jordan.
“Okay, okay. Let me get dressed first.”
“Okay. We’ll see you downstairs, sweetie. wear something nice because you may have a special guest.”
“No more surprises, guys!”
“You’ll love this one,” said Dad with a wink as they walked out of my room, closing the door behind them.
What other surprises did they have in store for me?
I showered and dressed in a new pink floral dress Raven had designed and sent over for my birthday. It flared out slightly at the hem and was embroidered with red and pink cherry blossoms over the sheer fabric. It was gorgeous. I did my hair, so it was pulled over to one side and held in place with a bobby pin and hair spray. I put on matching pink tassel earrings and nude heels before heading downstairs to see what my family had in store for me.
I didn’t know who was waiting for me, but I secretly wished it would be her.
Just like I dreamed, Raven stood in the driveaway next to a brand new shiny black Audi convertible.
“Oh my god!” I squealed and ran into her arms.
“Happy birthday, beautiful.” She kissed me. “you look amazing. The dress suits you.”
“Thank you so much, Rae. It’s perfect.”
“You’re perfect,” she whispered, kissing me again. “hey, what are your plans tonight?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“Well, I have two VIP tickets to a friend of mine’s concert, and I was wondering if you would accompany me?”
“Oh my gosh. Of course. Who’s your friend? Anyone I know?”
“Probably. Xane Alexander. My dad manages him. He was sweet enough to give us two VIP passes when he heard it was my girlfriend’s birthday.”
“Oh, my god. Xane Alexander? I love his songs!”