Thoughts of Luca were almost distracting enough to make me forget about my lecherous boss.
Almost.
Each step I took closer toward our adjoining offices brought back a renewed sense of doom. Not to mention a healthy dose of anger.
Roger Coleman was the smarmiest, most disgusting man I’d ever met, but he was also damn good at hiding his true nature. He’d held his position at Triton Construction for well over a decade and was an established member of the good ‘ol boys club. A brotherhood of men led by the owner of the company—a man who also happened to be my father.
Dad had built Triton into the largest construction company in New York with a lifetime of dedication and a ruthless mind for business. Triton was his pride and joy, and I desperately wanted to join him at the helm of his company. More than anything, I wanted to make my father proud, and I wouldn’t accomplish that by running to him every time I had a problem. I needed to handle Roger on my own. He was just a misogynic sleaze, after all. If I could grow a spine and be firm with him, he wouldn’t be an issue.
Admittedly, I’d done an abysmal job so far.
I wasn’t the best at handling conflict, and he always seemed to catch me off guard. No matter how many scenarios I rehearsed in my head, his veiled innuendo and unsettling looks left me speechless. I’d heard of fight or flight, but my default setting was most definitely to freeze, and overcoming that instinct had proven more challenging than I’d hoped.
Roger’s advances had started out small—telling me how lovely I looked or commenting on my hair or eyes. In romance novels,having an older executive pursue the young professional sounded sexy and exciting, but when my fifty-five-year-old boss with a fake-and-bake tan and leathery skin started hitting on me, it was repulsive and unsettling. I’d done my best to discretely brush aside his advances and discourage his behavior in the hopes he would take the hint and move on, but after a year of working in the office, he had yet to cease his efforts.
Only once had his pursuit escalated to a physical level. Six months ago, at the company Christmas party he cornered me in a hallway and pressed me against a wall, his dick thrust against my stomach. He’d been drinking heavily, and I made the mistake of walking to a restroom alone. I’dbeen so repulsed and terrified, I didn’t even hear the unquestionably revolting comment he made. I gave a stuttered excuse and tore from his grasp, leaving the party without another word.
The incident had been seared into my brain. I tried to tell myself it was an isolated incident that wouldn’t have happened had alcohol not been present, but I couldn’t shake the lingering anxiety that he’d try again. I took every effort to distance myself from the man, both professionally and physically. I made certain I pulled in coworkers to help on projects, so there was always an extra set of eyes working with us.
Our offices, along with several others in the suite, were constructed with glass walls, which helped give me a certain degree of security—no hiding behind closed doors outside of the conference or break room. Another fortifying fact—Roger’s advances weren’t a daily affair, not even weekly. The problem wasn’t their frequency; it was the uncertainty of not knowing when they might occur that was the most stressful.
This week I was in for a treat. Today was the only day I’d have to deal with Roger before he left on a week-long business trip to L.A.
I could survive one day with the devil.
Most of the morning passed uneventfully. I was left to my own devices, preparing for a full week of project meetings and impending deadlines. It wasn’t until almost eleven when the intercom on my phone blared with Roger’s voice.
“Alessia, can you come in here, please?”
A seemingly harmless request, but it stirred an overwhelming sense of dread in the pit of my stomach.
I didn’t answer—there was no need. He could see me as I stood from my chair and made my way to his office nextdoor. While I didn’t so much as glance his direction, I had no doubt his beady eyes would follow my every step. Our offices lined the outer wall of windows—the glass walls allowing the rest of the employees to enjoy the soaring views from our building. It was a double-edged sword—no privacy was a good thing, but it also meant there was no escaping Roger’s stare.
“Did you need something?” I stopped several feet from his small conference table where he’d laid out his presentation materials.
“You sure you can’t come with me? You know the material as well as I do and would be an enormous help when I make the pitch. It’s not too late to get you a ticket.” He arched a brow, hands propped on his hips where he stood on the opposite side of the table.
“My sisters would kill me if I’m not there to help get ready for Mom’s party this weekend. It’s her fiftieth and—”
“I know, I know,” he cut me off as I began to blather about my mother’s pretend birthday. She’d turned fifty years ago, but the party had been the best excuse I’d come up with on the spot when Roger had initially asked me to accompany him on the trip. There was no way in hell I was traveling with the man. Fortunately, he hadn’t bothered verifying my story, so I continued to uphold the ruse.
“You told me already. Well, get over here and let’s run through everything one more time before I head to the airport.” He waved me over with a frown, clearly disgruntled I hadn’t caved to his pressure to accompany him.
The project was a relatively minor remodel proposal for a building in Brooklyn owned by a corporation headquartered on the opposite coast. I’d worked on the project along with a couple other people from our team. It was too small-scale forRoger to do the grunt work, but he was presenting our proposal because the contact was a friend of his. We had already given him all the pertinent information on multiple occasions, so I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say.
The chairs had been pulled around to clump on my side of the table with the various documents and exhibits spread out for viewing from the other side. His setup left little option except to come around to his side of the table, but I kept as much distance between us as was reasonably possible.
“It looks like everything is here,” I offered as I perused the materials.
“What about the schedule of work?” he asked as he leaned forward to retrieve the document. “I noticed we listed a completion timeframe of six months, but I thought we had discussed moving that out to nine.” His right hand snaked out to curl around my waist and pull me next to him while his other hand held out the document as if showing me its contents was the purpose behind his flagrant violation of my personal space.
Stunned by his action, I took the papers and stared at them dumbly. I didn’t see the words on the page—I was entirely focused inside my head where my thoughts raced at a frenzied pace in an attempt to grasp my situation. My boss’s hand lingered at my lower back, the insidious warmth seeping into my skin, before slowly dropping down to caress over the curve of my ass cheek.
I ceased breathing, and my ears began to ring.
His repulsive touch in such a private area made my skin crawl, but I couldn’t seem to move a muscle.
I was frozen—horror battling with mortification.
