Rocked by Him (3 page)

"Yes, of course Mr. Loughery will be able to see you this weekend at the club. I'm
sorry; I don't know exactly when he'll arrive. Sorry, could you hold for one moment?" she said, her voice surprisingly strong despite the strain on her face.

I opened my mouth to speak as she leaned across the desk, one hand clamped over the receiver on her phone. She didn't even notice me as she pushed down the button to the intercom.

"Yes, Mr. Loughery?"

"Lucinda, has my new assistant shown up yet?" the intercom made his voice sound distant and small.

My heart sped up. That was me!

"No, Mr. Loughery, I'm sorry, but I haven't seen her..."

"Excuse me? I'm his new assistant," I said, trying to cling to that sense of purpose from when I'd walked in.

Lucinda's green eyes took me in
with one glance. Whoever was on the other side of that phone call was clearly not pleased, as their tinny voice squeaked around her clutched fingers.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Loughery, she's right here at the desk. Should I send her in?"

"I don't know, sweetheart, why don't we let her sweat it out for a few minutes? Of course I want her in here!" Bud Loughery's voice squawked.

I winced as I met Lucinda's eyes. Thoughts of just turning around pushed through that barrier of bravado I'd tried to construct. I wished now that I had been able to meet him before agreeing to the job.

"Yes, sorry Mr. Loughery. I'll send her in straight away."

"That's my girl," Bud said.

Lucinda nodded at me, then glanced at the door with "Bud Loughery" on the nameplate behind and to her right.

I went
in, trying to put that last look she gave me out of my mind. It had been pity. First the receptionist, now his secretary. Just who the hell was Bud Loughery?

I pulled the door open and stepped into his office. His desk was too big, and didn't match the sterile office decor outside. It was a monster, made of polished mahogany or something. There was a model
tall ship complete with pirate flag at one corner.

It took me a second to realize that there wasn't a single piece of paper or file on that desk.
Only a chromed nameplate, an enormous monitor, and that model.

There were also no chairs in front of the desk. The only one in the room was occupied by Mr. Bud Loughery, his body framed by the large bay window behind him through which I could see a glittering skyscraper across the street.

Bud wore a wrinkled suit, the knot of his tie pulled down to reveal the unbuttoned collar of an off-white shirt. I couldn't tell if the thick mop of black hair was a wig, but, based on his paunchy, sagging jowels I would have bet money on it.

His teeth were too white, and contrasted sharply with the Halloween pumpkin
orange of his spray tanned cheeks.

His eyes were beady and too small for his face. And at that moment he had them fixed squarely on my chest, not even bothering to hide the hunger I saw in them.

He was a walking sexual harassment machine, I could tell. My skin crawled as I tried to make myself smaller.

I cleared my throat to let him know I could see his bald stare. He took his sweet time lifting his eyes.

"Looks like ole' Bud's lucked out again!" he said. He put his hands on his thighs, below his desk. They worked back and forth. I hoped to God he was just straightening his pants.

But just because he wasn't being professional didn't mean that I couldn't, or shouldn't, be. So I stepped forward and offered my hand even as I forced the muscles of my face into a smile.

"Hi. I'm Jennifer Snow; I believe we'll be working together..."

He took my hand and I immediately regretted the gesture. His thumb rubbed in suggestive circles on my wrist as he pulled me forward so that I had to lean over his desk.

I sucked in a breath as he kissed the top of my hand. That was too far. I yanked my fingers back, trying not to think about the warm wetness on the top of my hand, and where it came from.

My face twisted in disgusted shock so hard my cheeks hurt. It didn't faze him. Bud just smiled at me for a moment before getting up and making the long journey around the desk.

Not only was he rather round, but tall as well. I had to crane my head back uncomfortably to look up into those beady eyes of his. They glinted down at me.

"The pleasure is all mine, I'm sure," Bud said, sitting up on his desk and crossing one leg over the other. The move pulled his trousers up, revealing the long white socks struggling to pull free from their garters.

A little voice inside my mind kept saying,
I told you so
.

"So, you have a degree in marketing, sweetie?" Bud said.

Despite my jacket covering them pretty well, his eyes again strayed to my breasts. I crossed my arms, hoping the move looked natural enough.

Just think about the money, I told myself.
All that money. Enough to afford rent in Manhattan.

That didn't stop the bile from coming up my throat. I swallowed it back down, and even contorted my face into something like a smile.

"With honors," I said, "I've done a lot of research on Styrex, and I really think I'll be able to help you to..."

"Of course you will."

He put his hand on my arm. I looked down at it. He squeezed, making little wrinkles in the sleeve of my jacket. My skin crawled, and that ball of bile forced its way back up my throat. This guy looked older than my dad!

And this close, he smelled. It a slightly sour smell, covered up by what had to be half a bottle of some rancid cologne.

"Why, each graduating class is even prettier than the last!" he said, grinning. I pulled my arm from his grip.

How many graduates had he been through? Was this why I'd gotten the job? I wondered what the turnover rate was around here.

He started saying something else, but then his phone buzzed. My shoulders slumped with relief when he spun on his desk to grab it.

"Yeah?" he
said, his forehead wrinkling as he listened to the reply. His eyes flicked to me as he covered the receiver with one sweaty palm. "Just go on out and ask Lucinda for your file. Nice meetin' you, sweetie!"

He winked.

I had to resist the urge to back out of the room, wondering if he was about to jump me from behind.

The air itself seemed to change as I left his office.
Cooler, lighter. Infinitely refreshing compared to the miasma of old perv smell.

When I closed to the door behind me, Lucinda tapped my arm. It seemed she'd finally gotten the best of all those calls and emails. The lines around her eyes had disappeared, and the blood had returned to her face.
A pretty woman.

"Is he always...?" I asked, letting my question remain implied in case anyone else was listening in.

Lucinda nodded, "Always. Worse. Look, I'll do my best to make sure you two don't have to interact very often. I can't bear to watch him mess up another girl. Here's your file for the day. Your cubicle is straight down there. Third one on the right. Welcome to Styrex."

She pointed down one lane of grey cubicles even as I hefted the file folder. It was a lot of work. More than I could do in one day, I knew.

As I walked down to my cubicle, I thought that a lot of work right now might be a good thing. I could really throw myself at it. If I did well enough, maybe I'd come to someone else's attention and get a promotion or something.

And it would keep my mind off Jerry.

I pulled out my chair, the castors whisking softly against the plastic desk mat. I hit the power button on my computer and entered in the login information I found on the first page inside the folder.

I worked all the way through the day, completely missing lunch and all the various fifteen minutes breaks I was entitled to. Not that I really cared. I wasn't really hungry. And if I did feel a bit
peckish, all I had to do was bring Bud's fat face to mind and the desire instantly left, replaced by slight nauseous sensation.

In fact, I got so into looking over the copy for an ad of
Styrex's latest plastic wonder that when the phone on my desk rang I nearly fell out of my seat. It took my brain a moment to register what I was hearing.

"Oh!" I said, grabbing the receiver and jamming it between my ear and shoulder.

"Hello?"

"Hey, sweetie!
First day going okay?"

It was Bud. I swallowed as I glanced around, wondering if I should tell him that this was a wrong number. I relented, realizing he'd probably had Lucinda patch in the call. She'd probably get in trouble if I said that.

"Yeah. So far, so good..."

"Great!
Workin' hard or hardly workin'? That's what I always say, right?"

"Sure..." I said, squinting at the clock on my monitor. It was a few minutes shy of five! Cool surprise flowed through me as I tried to figure out where those hours had gone.

"Listen, sweetie, come and see me in my office before you head out for the day."

"Oh... okay."

I wanted to say no. But I also didn't want to get fired. Especially on my first day.

After turning off my computer and making sure the file was in a desk drawer, I grabbed my purse and traced my path back to his office.

Lucinda's desk was empty, the chair pushed in. A number of papers were scattered around, and there were still at least three incoming calls on the phone. She'd left in a hurry.

As I reached for the door handle, I wondered if she didn't have the right idea.

Bud had his jacket off, slung over his shoulder with one finger as though he were a fashion model.

Sweat stains ringed his armpits, a bead of it rolled down his forehead as I watched.

"You wanted to see me?" I said, making sure to stand in the doorway.

I'd become uncomfortably aware of just how quiet it got behind me. Everyone seemed to make a mass exodus right at five. I was pretty much alone in here with Bud. No Lucinda to keep me safe, or send him a call as a distraction. Even though I just met her, I dearly missed her at that moment.

"Yeah. Why don't you come on over here?" Bud said, patting the smooth, finished surface of his desk.

Against my better judgment, I did as he asked. Though, I stopped short of actually sitting on the desk beside him. However, this did bring me so that his face was less than a foot from mine.

"You did some good work out there today," he said, letting his eyes play freely over my body.

"What? Thanks... Wait, I don't think I showed you any work, Mr. Loughery," I said.

"Bud! Call me Bud!" he said, his face going red as he leaned back and spun his monitor around to face us.

"This
doohicky program here lets me see exactly what you're doing on any company computer. I have to tell ya, I'm pretty pleased with what I saw."

I swallowed even as a cold chill ran down my back. No one had told me about this. He could see my computer activity? I quickly ran through my day in my mind,
trying to recall if everything I'd done at my cubicle. I hadn't checked my email, or logged onto Facebook, or anything like that. Just work.

It felt like I'd just passed some sort of creepy inspection. Though, I imagine Bud would have liked it more if I had done something he could give me a talking to about.

"And listen," Bud said, his voice going quiet so that I had to lean in even closer to understand, "There are other ways you can advance around here, a girl like you..."

I'd put one of my hands on his desk to support myself. He put one sweaty palm over my knuckles and smiled.

Fight or flight kicked in. Every last part of my body just wanted to get out of there. It took every last shred of willpower to keep from calling him a sweaty old pig and telling him that I was quitting.

Instead, I yanked my hand out from under his and backed out quickly.

"Th...thanks. I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Loughery!" I said, slipping out of his office.

"Call me Bud!" his voice chased my out.

Instead of going home, I went to a bar. It was a little hole-in-the-wall dive on one of the side streets. It was dark inside, lit pretty much by the neon signs advertising Bud or Coors or whatever. So dark I could hardly see the bartender. Not to mention the smell... But it was the closest place I could walk to, and they served rum. I'd downed a double before my mind started calming down.

The alcohol burned as it went down my throat. I concentrated on that feeling, on the sound of some classic rock anthem blaring from every corner.

The bartender looked at me as I ran my hand through my hair. I tapped the rim of my empty glass. Oh yeah, I definitely needed another one.

"Keep them coming," I said as the clear liquid sloshed into my glass.

I don't know how late I stayed out. All I knew was that I'd come into the bar when it was still light out, and left to find the city fighting back the night with all those lights. It was colder, too. Nippy enough that I wished I'd brought something a bit warmer to wear.