“Girl, come back inside.” There was no hand on her shoulder this time, only a deep, pitying voice. It was almost as if the officers knew she wouldn’t try to run this time, not after seeing the truth of the situation. Her father had brought this on them somehow, and those officers had the answers. Lore watched as the car carefully pulled away from the curb, her father cuffed and locked in the backseat. Once the car was out of sight, she turned and walked back into the house. An officer handed her a towel to dry herself off. She didn’t thank him, just walked back into the living room where a few men were questioning her sniffling, inconsolable mother.
“Did you know of your husband’s activities?”
“Where is the client list kept?”
“How did you think your husband made all his money?”
All through the night it went on, an endless barrage of questions Lore and her mother couldn’t answer. Her father had always been a bit mysterious about his business practices, but he’d seemed like an upstanding citizen. He preached to her about being a good person, about doing what was right, getting the best grades to go to college. Would a criminal, a criminal that required this amount of police officers to arrest him, really attempt to mold his daughter into such a decent person?
But her mind couldn’t stop flashing to the other things. Those days Lore and her father would go out, just the two of them. She always thought they were insignificant details, little criminal things like sneaking into a double feature without paying, conning a carnival man to give her a bigger prize when she hadn’t even earned the smallest. It had all just been a game. But maybe those little details lent themselves to something bigger, something she had been too blind with love for her father to see. Could her father really be a criminal?
A commotion sounded from the TV. Cheering. Singing. It was the stupid song she had joked about, the one she and her father sang every year since she was little. Would she ever get to sing it with him again?
Through the questioning and the cold wet of her clothes and the singing on the TV, all she could hear was her father’s voice.
“What is it, pumpkin? What is your New Year’s Resolution?”
Watching the celebrating people in the overcrowded streets of New York, she knew no matter what her resolution had originally been, it would never be the same again.
Chapter One
Seventeen Years Later
“C’mon, Lore, live a little,” Kathy said, her perfectly coiffed blonde hair fluttering around her face like a Playboy Mansion doll. “Undo that tight bun of chastity and put your goodies on display.” Kathy leaned against the kitchenette counter toward Lore, wiggling her eyebrows. “I bet you’ve got some decent goodies underneath your proper pantsuits.”
Lore would have liked to laugh at Kathy’s exuberant nature, but that wasn’t who she chose to be at the office. “I do not have goodies, Kathy,” she said, focusing on stirring her hot chai tea.
“Every woman has goodies.” Kathy snorted into her coffee mug. “Big or small, doesn’t matter.”
Lore put her mug down before tossing the spoon into the sink and shooting Kathy her best disdainful expression. “Whether or not I have goodies is irrelevant, as we are at work and this conversation is inappropriate. Drop it.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Kathy threw her hands up in exasperation, a gesture Lore was all too familiar with during these exchanges. “I forgot your female mind is stuck in the nineteenth century. Welcome to the modern world, Lore. Oh, and surprise, but women talk about this shit all the time. There is no more inappropriate, no more hiding behind kitchen aprons as we wait for our husbands to bring home the bacon. You really need to come out of that shell.” Kathy’s gaze passed over the door and back, switching from her outgoing nature to something meeker, something Lore had grown to pity. For all her talk of feminism and women no longer struggling under the chains of the patriarchy, they were just words. Precious ideas Kathy needed to hold on to in order to wake up each morning and come back to the office. “But you’re right; we shouldn’t have this talk at work or the Lech might hear and think we’re offerin’ our asses up to him. We’re either the sexually open whore or the virgin, whose body is idolized as a purely baby-producing machine and nothing else. Heaven forbid a woman have sexual desires and a brain.”
“Please don’t start talking about sexual desires,” Maggie from accounting quipped as she popped her head into the break room. “Words like ‘sexual’ are the Bat-Signal for him, drawing Mr. Tiny Prick out of the dark and calling him to rise and harass the women of the office. It is his destiny.”
Kathy laughed, adding on to the women’s ritual of making fun of their dissolute boss. “Yeah, but instead of rescuing the damsels, he makes them miserable. If I have to smell his nasty breath—”
“Kathy.”
The women froze. Mr. Tiny Prick himself, or rather their boss, Mr. Krueger, stood in the doorway watching them with a scowl. Krueger looked like an all-American good ol’ boy. The forty-year-old man was well formed, large, but in an athletically fit way. If Lore had passed him on the street, not knowing what a sick and twisted man he was, she would have thought him handsome, his dark eyes giving him an almost roguish quality that juxtaposed the all-American, football-player good looks. Now that Lore understood what he really was, his eyes appeared a beady black that reminded her of a bat in the dark.
When Lore had interviewed for her current position, Mr. Krueger had looked her over in the way all men look over a decently attractive female. She hadn’t assumed anything of the passing interest and thought him the perfect example of professionalism and courtesy throughout the interview, as a supervising manager should be. It had taken less than a week at her new job to realize the pleasant Mr. Krueger was a misogynistic asshole. The smiles, good looks, and handsomely cut suits were a facade to hide his true nature.
Lore knew men like him. The ones who treated you like a princess until you spoke your mind or disagreed with his way of doing things. To Krueger, women were ornaments to be hung where he pleased and taken down when he grew bored of them.
Today his facade consisted of a slick-cut suit and royal-blue button-down shirt. His tie was a shimmering gray that pleasantly caught the light as he turned in its direction. Lore had complete confidence in her assumption he had paid an exorbitant amount of money to have such an ensemble custom made, just as she was confident he had come to the break room to pick a target. Lore caught Maggie looking pityingly at Kathy, Krueger’s favorite victim, and her gut churned for the poor woman.
It never made sense to Lore why good-looking and wealthy men like Krueger felt the need to control those beneath them, especially the ones they thought were members of the weaker sex. During the course of his life, someone had taught Krueger to treat women like objects. In doing so he had become the scum of the earth. Now, more and more, whenever Lore happened on him objectifying a female coworker, she not only felt the unwelcome burn of rage but the need to do something about it.
“Yes, Mr. Krueger?” Kathy asked after taking a moment to stall and sip her coffee.
“I believe your lunch hour ended ten minutes ago.” His gaze didn’t scan a watch or clock to emphasize the point, just began its well-worn path of roving up and down poor Kathy’s body. The woman could annoy the hell out of Lore with her probing questions and suggestions on how she should live her life, but Lore would never have wished the unwanted attention of that slimeball on any woman.
“I’m just cleaning up, Mr. Krueger.”
“Well,” he said, adjusting his pants with a grunt. “Wash all the other stuff in the sink while you’re there, then come see me in my office. The employees in this office are pigs.” He turned to leave, but stopped as Kathy took a step forward, her hands tight around her coffee mug.
“I have a busy agenda the rest of the day, sir. Can we reschedule?”
Mr. Krueger leaned his body forward, a forbidding look accompanying his reddening cheeks. “That wasn’t a suggestion.” With that final edict and
a disgusting-sounding sniffle, he turned and walked out of the break room.
Once Lore knew he was out of earshot, she turned to Kathy, unable to stay silent any longer. She usually didn’t get in the middle of the other women’s troubles, but enough was enough. “Kathy, don’t go in there. Do you want me to tell the bastard you went home for the day?”
“No.” Kathy smiled shortly, turning the faucet on to wash the empty mugs left there by other employees, her effervescent nature all but draining from her body as she faced her current situation. “No. I’m good. But thanks. It’s probably nothing.”
Lore frowned as her gaze caught Maggie’s, still leaning against the far wall. They hated it, but neither woman would do a thing about it. Lore had tried to intervene on Kathy’s behalf on many occasions, but she’d always denied the need for help. Clearly the man was harassing the young woman, and yet she said nothing. Lore understood why she didn’t, having seen what happened when a woman brought Mr. Krueger’s unwanted advances to the attention of the HR department. No less than a week later the women were promptly fired and some even had lawsuits filed against them for unsavory work practices. The women were clearly innocent of anything they were accused of, but Krueger was smart. He made sure his advances were always in private, and he targeted the women who were most desperate to keep their jobs.
Kathy was a young woman in her midtwenties, just out of college. Her parents had recently passed on, and she had a mountain of bills to pay, including estate taxes. Losing her job without a reference now would be financial suicide for her. It made Lore wonder what she would do if she were in that position. Would she take the better paycheck and just endure the harassment, or would she leave and face possible bankruptcy? Kathy’s situation had to be direr than she let on to suffer this sort of sickening treatment.
“Balmer.” Speak of the devil. Lore turned to see Mr. Krueger’s unwelcome girth taking up the doorway once more. It took a massive amount of strength on her part, but she made sure to keep a neutral expression in place. “It’s Beyer, sir.” The asshat continually forgot her name, probably because she wore high-collared shirts and unflattering pants. She knew not to draw attention to herself. Not that Kathy wore anything inappropriate to work, and even if she had, it wouldn’t have warranted harassment from the scumbag. Kathy just had the misfortune of being a beautiful and scared young woman under the thumb of a man too used to getting his way. An all too familiar tale, one Lore was getting sick of hearing.
“What can I do for you?”
His lecherous gaze flashed over to Kathy when he asked, “Do you have the projection reports ready yet?”
“They will be ready tomorrow.”
“Make sure they are. Let’s go, Kathy. Christ, how long does it take to wash a few dishes? I mean really.” He guffawed loudly with a grin. “Am I right, Balmer?”
Lore ignored the egomaniac to watch Kathy give her a short smile in farewell and follow the boss toward his office. This had to stop. Lore liked her job. She liked the steady stream of work she received and how it numbed her mind to complete it. She would work for hours straight, staring at her computer in the small office she was allowed in her senior staff position. It was normal and boring, and she was delighted to have it. No unwelcome surprises, no police officers showing up to tear down the fabric of her reality, nothing but monotony. She needed something steady to keep her balanced. But the harassment her coworkers suffered was far from balanced.
There was a rule her father used to tell her. He would sit her down and just repeat it to her over and over as a child. Never lose control of the situation. He meant it as one thing, but Lore had taken it to mean something else. Her personal control. If she kept her head down and kept on producing top-quality work, she could have this job forever. A perfectly normal and boring life, what she’d wanted since she was fourteen. What she had always thought she had as a kid.
But could she truly just stand back and watch day in and day out while women like Kathy were made miserable by a small-minded man who wasn’t worth the dirt on her shoe? No. This wasn’t control. The women in her office had lost the control, and she was going to help them get it all back. Her father would have been proud of the cunning plan her mind quickly crafted, proving just how much of his daughter she was. She sat at her desk and felt her heart beating fast with adrenaline from her excitement at formulating this plan. The realization that she liked being a little devious nauseated her slightly. Lore wondered what else she was capable of and if her father would have approved of those facets of her personality as well.
A week later, after everything had been set in place, Lore watched as Kathy popped her dainty frame into the guest chair across from her desk. The woman was five-foot-nothing with eyes so big Lore always thought she could be the first human being meant for nocturnal living. No wonder the Lech had targeted her. She seemed too innocent and naive to ever say no to him. Lore paused her typing after completing the calculation she’d been working on and looked up at Kathy with a polite smile. She didn’t want to put the woman off in case she had an actual work-related issue, but she also didn’t want to give the impression that she was free to just shoot the breeze as Kathy was apt to do if you let her.
“This year is going by so fast. Sooner than you know it, New Year’s Eve will be just around the corner,” Kathy said jovially, destroying Lore’s hopes that this would be a work-related conversation. “What do you think your resolution will be for this year?” Kathy crossed her legs and rested her chin in her hand, waiting for Lore to dish some gossip for her. If she wanted gossip, she’d come to the wrong place.
“I don’t have one,” Lore said with a short smile, returning her gaze to the computer screen.
“Oh, please.” Kathy snorted, waving her hand dramatically. “Everyone makes a resolution.”
“Truly. I don’t have one.” Lore kept her gaze on the monitor, wishing the woman would just leave her alone. She’d gone through a lot this past week to get the boss to notice her and pull his attention away from Kathy. If he came in Lore’s office and focused on Kathy, the whole thing would have been for nothing.
“I have one for you,” the animated woman said with a frown. “I, Lore Beyer, resolve to pull the stick out of my ass just a little this year.”
Lore sighed, looking at her coworker in exasperation. “Kathy, please.”
“I don’t get why you can’t just play along for once.” Kathy stood, taking the hint and walking toward the door. “Humor me, Lore. I’m bored, I’m avoiding the dickhead, and I want to know what goes on in that skinny head of yours when it isn’t focused on work.”
“I’m working now, Kathy.” Lore gestured to the perfectly detailed and meticulous spreadsheet she’d been crafting like a master artist the past day. It was a finely organized masterpiece. “I need to make this deadline by Friday. You know that. I’m pretty sure we had this same conversation two hours ago when you came in here pestering me to amuse you.”
“Pestering me to amuse you.” Kathy mocked in a high-pitched voice, placing her fists on her hips. “Deadlines. Stocks. Math shit. Boring. I’m gonna go talk to Maggie. At least she has shit to say other than ‘leave me alone; I’m working.’ I hope you realize how sad that is, Lore. An accountant is more interesting than you. An accountant. Think on that for a little, hmm?” With that slightly acerbic comment, Kathy spun on her heel and walked back into the buzz of the office without closing the door behind her, of course. Before Lore could breathe a sigh of relief, the woman dashed back in and pointed an accusing finger at her.
“And I don’t know who you think you’re trying to impress with those itty-bitty skirts and low-cut shirts you’ve been wearing this past week. I wanted you to let loose outside of work, not where the vulture can see. You know whose attention those little things are gonna get. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Kathy left once more, door still wide-open and a pall of thick judgment hanging in the air.
Lore let her posture slump just a bit, resting her elbows on t
he polished wooden desk and placing her face in her hands, wary not to smudge her carefully planned makeup. No matter how short her conversations with Kathy were, Kathy always seemed to suck the energy out of any room she entered. Lore was convinced the woman was an alien who subsisted on human energy and attention. How else could Kathy have this constant draining effect whenever she spoke with Lore?
Snorting at her ridiculous and childlike hypothesis, Lore went to close the door to her office, providing herself with the peace and quiet she needed to complete her work. But something bothered her, a voice from the past whispering in her ear to give in to Kathy’s silly fantasies and come up with a New Year’s resolution, one just for herself. Kathy’s would no doubt be about going to the gym or having some steamy love affair. But even that little bit of whimsy seemed anathema to Lore.
Resolutions were for people who weren’t happy with their lives, who thought they needed improvement. Lore was quite content with her quiet life. She’d never needed adventure and had never desired to meet some wealthy billionaire to sweep her off her feet. Self-improvement was an admirable thing to want, but only if it was a cerebral sort of improvement. Slaving hours and hours away at a gym to achieve some magazine-like, socially acceptable figure seemed like a waste of time. Lore took yoga to stay limber and in good health, but that was the extent of her gym endeavors.
Lore was also content with how she looked. She didn’t have a curvy figure to write sonnets about, but she was slim. Her face was what she thought of as passably pretty. In fact, she’d always considered her figure to be slightly boyish with her small breasts. The main feminine feature she went out of the way to maintain was her long and thick, straight black hair. Her mother used to tell her she looked like Snow White, hair as black as pitch and skin as white as snow.
Feeling the usual knot in her throat when she thought about her mother, Lore shook herself out of her reverie and sat back down at her desk, ready to tackle the rest of the marketing spreadsheet. She would get this Mona Lisa of a spreadsheet finished today if it killed her.
A New Resolution Page 2