HIM
few smaller ones that are already underway.Ris comes to my office to walk with me to the morning meeting. My assistants and interns exit to begin their tasks. Ris closes my door.
"How are you holding up?" she asks genuinely.
I am glad she's here; otherwise, I would be feeling more helpless.
"I'm good right now," I reply.
I adjust my shirt under my little suit jacket, and we head out of my office toward the conference room. I try not to look around for Brady and act like my usual self. I need to be cordial and professional, showing no signs of weakness at all toward him. I walk to the back of the conference room with Ris. I grab a water and granola bar, and she grabs a diet soda and a muffin, then we take our usual seats. I stare at the white legal pad on the table in front of me while Ris engages in conversation about what's happening tonight.
Brady walks in with one of the Project Managers who will be conducting our morning meeting. Barrett only does the afternoon one. Brady takes a seat next to me after grabbing his usual stupid protein fruit drink thing. Why is he sitting next to me? He always sits across from Ris. There is an empty seat over there, yet he chooses to sit next to me. I elbow Ris, who is still deep in conversation about the club she wants everyone to go to after the team dinner tonight. She sits up and notices Brady is sitting next to me.
"You okay?" she whispers in my ear.
I nod, even though I want to move to another seat but can't since they've all become occupied now. The meeting begins, starting with production stats and where the company is; as a whole. I try to control my breathing and ignore Brady's presence next to me. I try to pretend that he is not there at all, even though it is tough to do so. Brady is busy taking notes on the legal pad in front of him when the production stats and other information about Commercial is read.
The Project Manager starts to talk about each quadrant, of which Landscaping is first. Brady leans back in his seat, setting his pen down, and removes his hands from the conference table. He takes his hand closest to me under the table and places it on my thigh. Trying not to make it obvious, I grab hold of his hand then remove it from my thigh. He puts his hand back on my thigh, in the crook of my pants where I am crossing my legs, and my leg meets my groin area. I take a deep breath, exhaling in short spurts of air. I'm not able to remove his hand this time since everyone is looking at the person next to him talking about the latest landscape project. Brady slides his hand farther down in between my crossed thighs, resting his pinky finger against the crotch part of my pants.
I am becoming very uncomfortable and uneasy right now, trying my hardest to keep my composure. He starts to gently rub in circular motions over the part of my pants where my vagina is with his pinky. I clench my jaw and hold back my tears, then dig my fingernail as hard as I can into his hand. I hope my face is not turning red. I cannot believe that he is doing this to me right now and at work in front of over twenty people. I want to scream, but I do not want to cause a scene. I can see him out the corner of my eye, biting his lower lip, shifting himself in his seat as he watches me become distressed. I'm sure he thinks I'm enjoying this torture he has bestowed upon me. He has zero shame.
He gradually picks up the pace with his finger, and I fling myself to my feet. My chair flies back hard into the wall. I couldn't take it anymore. I look around the room, embarrassed, then calmly excuse myself and walk as fast as I can out of the conference room. I rush to the bathroom as tears follow heavily down my cheeks. Brady is making it unbearably tough to be here. He has robbed me of my pride, my self-confidence, and my self-esteem. He has stripped me bare. Every time I think of him, I get reminded of what happened. Now, this.
Chapter Fifty-Six
I slide down the wall of the bathroom stall, crouching in a sitting position on the back of my calves in my nude heels. I am sobbing so hard into my hands that I've cupped them to my face. I hear the clacking of heels enter, and I try to soften my crying.
"Ali?" I hear Ris call out in a concerned tone.
She stops in front of my stall and knocks lightly.
"Ali, are you okay?" she asks sympathetically.
I remain silent.
"Please, open the door. I saw, you know, under the—" she begins to say before I cut her off.
"Ris, please, shhh!" I interrupt.
I open the door, slowly bringing my eyes to hers. She grabs hold of me tightly.
"What the fuck did he do to you?" She whispers with worry.
She seems quite distraught, seeing me so vulnerable. I shake my head as I am still not ready to tell her or talk to her about it. She holds me tighter in the bathroom stall, rubbing my back, and hushing me as I sob uncontrollably. She reaches down for some toilet paper without breaking our hug and hands it to me.
"Do you want me to take you home?" she asks.
"No."
I do not want to leave; I don't want Brady to win at any cost. I need to focus on my job and the Christiansen account. I have the rest of the day, and tonight, then I don't have to see him for a while. I collect myself some, and we leave the stall. We walk over