Chapter 11

I went through the motions of getting ready on autopilot, showering and dressing and choking down some cereal that tasted like cardboard in my mouth. My hands were still shaking slightly as I tied my shoes, and I kept glancing toward the windows as if expecting to see a pale face staring in at me. The rational part of my brain kept trying to convince me that I'd overreacted, that there had to be some normal explanation for everything I'd seen, but the fear that had settled into my bones wouldn't let me believe it.

The commute to work felt longer than usual, every stop and start of the bus making me jumpy, every person who got on making me look up to check if it was her. By the time I finally made it to the office building, I was running late and practically vibrating with exhaustion and residual fear. I hurried through the lobby and toward the elevators, hoping I could make it to my desk without running into anyone who would want to chat.

Of course, that's exactly when I ran into Diana. She was coming out of the elevator just as I was about to get in, dressed in one of her usual too-tight skirts and low-cut blouses, her heels clicking against the marble floor in a way that always reminded me of a predator's claws. She smiled when she saw me, that smile that made my skin crawl because I knew exactly what thoughts were running through her head.

"Good morning, Lysander," she purred, stepping closer to me in a way that invaded my personal space and made me want to back up. But I was already against the elevator door, and there was nowhere to go. "You look tired. Rough night?" Her hand came up to touch my face, her fingers trailing along my cheekbone in a gesture that was far too intimate for a boss touching an employee.

I fought the urge to flinch away, knowing from experience that showing weakness only encouraged her. Instead, I forced a polite smile and stepped sideways, putting some distance between us as casually as I could manage. "Good morning, Mrs. Hartwell. Yeah, I didn't sleep well. Late night, like you said." I tried to move past her toward the elevator, but she shifted to block my path, her smile widening.

"Oh? What were you doing up so late? Or should I say, who were you doing?" She laughed at her own joke, her hand reaching out to touch my arm now, fingers trailing down toward my wrist. "You know, you really do look exhausted. Maybe you should take better care of yourself. Can't have you wearing yourself out with some girl when you could be saving that energy for more important things."

The implication in her voice was clear, and I felt my stomach turn. This was nothing new. Diana had been making comments like this ever since I'd started working here three months ago, getting progressively bolder as my probation period went on. I'd tried ignoring it, tried politely deflecting, tried everything I could think of short of filing a formal complaint, which I knew would probably just get me fired instead of helping.

"I appreciate your concern, Mrs. Hartwell, but I'm fine. Just had a friend's birthday party to attend. Nothing exciting." I tried again to move past her, but she stepped closer instead, her body almost pressed against mine now, her hand sliding up my arm to my shoulder.

"A party, hm? Well, I hope you had fun. You know, if you ever want to attend a more mature kind of party, I could show you a really good time. My husband's out of town a lot for work. The kids are usually at their grandmother's on weekends. We could have the whole house to ourselves." Her voice had dropped to what she probably thought was a seductive whisper, her fingers playing with the collar of my shirt.

I felt my face flush, partly from embarrassment and partly from anger. How could she think this was okay? How could she stand here in a professional office building and proposition me like this, using her position as my boss to pressure me into something I clearly didn't want? "Mrs. Hartwell, I really don't think that's appropriate. You're married, and you're my supervisor. I should get to my desk now. I have a lot of work to catch up on."

But she didn't move, didn't take the hint, just leaned in closer until I could smell her perfume, heavy and cloying in a way that made me want to gag. "Come on, Lysander. Don't be such a prude. I've seen the way you look at me. Young guys like you, you're always so eager, so full of energy. I could teach you things, give you experiences you've never had before. And who knows? If you're good to me, I might be good to you when it comes time for your performance review. Three months goes by fast, you know. Be a shame if you didn't pass your probation period."

There it was. The threat wrapped up in a proposition, the clear implication that my job security depended on my willingness to sleep with her. I felt something cold and hard settle in my chest, anger mixing with the fear and exhaustion I'd been carrying since last night. This was wrong. This was illegal. But what could I do about it? I was a probationary employee with student loans to pay and no other job prospects. She was a senior manager with years of tenure and connections throughout the company.

Before I could figure out how to respond, a voice called out from down the hallway. "Lysander! There you are. I've been looking for you." I turned to see Sophie Chen hurrying toward us, her expression bright and friendly but her eyes sharp as they took in the scene. "Sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Hartwell, but I really need Lysander's help with something. There are some files that need processing right away, and he's the only one who knows the new system well enough to handle them."

It was a transparent excuse, and we all knew it, but it gave me the out I desperately needed. I stepped away from Diana immediately, putting several feet of distance between us before she could try to stop me. "Of course, Sophie. Sorry, Mrs. Hartwell, but duty calls. I'll catch up with you later." I didn't wait for her response, just followed Sophie down the hallway toward the main office area, my heart pounding with relief and gratitude.