Surprise Delivery(6)

Using my keycard to open the door, I step in and pull it shut behind me. I let out a small breath of relief seeing the office is still mostly dark and devoid of people. The guys, the rest of the secretaries and paralegals won’t be in for another half an hour or so – though sometimes they wreck my plans by coming in early.

I’m usually one of the first ones here by design. For one thing, it gives me a little peace and quiet to catch up on any paperwork I didn’t finish the day before. The second is that it lessens the amount of time I have to spend around these people. I know it’s only by half an hour or so, but still, it’s half an hour without them, which I absolutely treasure.

Flipping on the lights in the office, I make my way to my desk. It sits right outside the door to the office of Preston Harper – the attorney I’m assigned to, and strangely enough, the only one, of the lot, who is decent to me. Never once has he ever said or done anything inappropriate, and he genuinely seems to like me.

It’s a very welcome reprieve from the usual free-flowing garbage I have to deal with on a daily basis.

I sit down, put my purse in the bottom drawer, and boot up my computer. As it gets warm, I run into the kitchen and make myself a cup of coffee. By the time I get back, my computer is up and ready to go, so I sit down and call up my emails. I also take a look at Preston’s calendar for the day and jot down a few notes, so I’m not surprised by anything later.

I’m so engrossed in what I’m doing that when the front door opens, and I hear voices, it startles me. I look up and see some of the secretaries and lawyers filing in, their laughter echoing around the office. Putting my head down, I try to shut them all out and focus on the task at hand – but I feel my heart sink into my stomach and I’m immediately on edge.

“Hey, what’s up, red?” says a familiar voice. “Lookin’ good today.”

I don’t need to look up to know who it is speaking – Tyler Kemper, senior partner. He’s been trying to get into my panties for as long as I’ve been here, and it seems like the more I turn him down, the more interested he gets. Which is to say, he’s gone from a passing comment here and there, to full-blown harassment over the course of my time at the firm.

I don’t look up and I don’t respond. It’s better that I don’t, or else I might let the scathing comment that’s on the tip of my tongue fly. And while he can’t fire me personally – he’d need Preston’s approval for that since technically, he’s my boss and not Tyler – the last thing I can afford to do is give him the ammunition to make a case against me. It’s something that Preston has warned me about – in a subtle, circuitous way.

I wish Preston would stand up for me and put these guys in their place. He’s one of the founding partners and has a lot of sway. I get the feeling he’s afraid of the other guys. He’s not necessarily part of their little clique. He’s a married, family man, so he doesn’t go drinking and womanizing with them. He comes in, does his job, and when the day is done, he goes home.

He doesn’t huddle in corners with the other guys, cracking misogynistic jokes. He doesn’t stand around throwing creepy, lecherous glances at me or the other secretaries. And he sure as hell doesn’t improperly proposition any of us. He doesn’t really fit in with the overgrown frat boys who run the firm, which makes me wonder why he’s still in business with them.

I mean, on one level, I get it. They all went to the same law school and graduated together. They were friends, and of course frat brothers. That connection between them will always be there. But, unlike the others, Preston grew up. He got married. He matured. And now, he has virtually nothing in common with any of them.

Preston knows the pickle I’m in. He knows my situation and I know he sympathizes with me. Part of me thinks he’d be willing to give me the tuition money if I asked, just to get me the hell out of here. But that wouldn’t exactly be appropriate, nor would his wife be on board with it. So, he does what he can to shield me from the worst of it and protects me the best that he can.

“So, have you reconsidered yet?” Tyler asks. “About having dinner with me?”

“No, I haven’t,” I tell him flatly. “But, thank you.”

“Well, how about we skip dinner and I just have you for dessert, then?”

I clench my jaw and have to force myself to keep my head down and keep working on what I’m working on. But oh, the temptation to stand up and jam the pen in my hand into his throat is strong.

“Come on, Lexi,” he continues. “I’ve been after you for what, two years now? There’s a difference between playing hard to get and being a frigid bitch.”

My blood pressure skyrockets and I feel something inside of me snap. I look up at him with murder in my eyes, a steel core building inside of me.

“You do realize you’re opening yourself up for one hell of a sexual harassment lawsuit, don’t you?” I hiss through clenched teeth.

A grin crosses his face and there is a light of amusement in his eyes. Amusement! I want to slap him hard enough to give him whiplash and knock his perfect white teeth out of his perfect mouth. I’ve never felt a rage in me quite like this before and I want to commit unspeakable acts of violence upon this piece of shit.

“Now, now, now, Lexi,” he chuckles, his tone thick with condescension. “Let’s not start making idle threats.”