7. Derrick
7
DERRICK
I slipped my AirPods out of my ears and glanced out the interior window and into the hallway. I was working in podcast studio one and Rachel was on the other side of the glass, palming her boob.
This woman was going to be the death of me. I threw a pen at the window. It clanged against the glass, and Rachel looked up startled, then pushed the door to the studio open and poked her head in.
“What’s up, Boss?” she asked.
Her hair was woven into a thick braid dyed in rainbow colors and cascading over her right shoulder. I’d avoided her since she called me out on my problem. She was only giving me a hard time, like she loved to do, but I was annoyed at how I’d reacted. I’m sure it made her realize there was some truth there. She didn’t know what, but she knew something.
“Stop touching yourself at the office,” I grumbled. Rachel plopped down in the roller chair next to me.
“It wasn’t sexual,” Rachel scoffed, crossing her arms. “I was checking for lumps. Breast cancer runs in my family, so I have to be diligent.”
“Do you have to be diligent here?” I shook my head and scooted my chair a few inches away from her. This girl was too much.
“I forgot to cop a feel in the shower this morning like I normally do, so I had to check the girls here.” Rachel shrugged, but I swore her chin wobbled. “It’s no biggie. They’re just boobs.”
“Damn it, Rachel. Don’t say that stuff.” Unwillingly, my mind flashed to her hands on her naked breasts, rubbing them. I dug my fingers into the leather seat, cursing the rush of lust that filled my groin.
Lexi was right. I needed to get laid and bad. I couldn’t be fantasizing about my employees.
“It was for medical purposes,” she huffed.
I closed my eyes and exhaled deeply. “I can’t talk to you.”
A mischievous glint marked her gaze. “Wanna help?”
I stood up and slammed my leather-bound notebook shut. “I know you like to be shocking,” I said, standing above her. “But this is my company, Rachel. I don’t care if you touch yourself. Just don’t do it at the office.”
“Why are you so uptight?” Rachel stood and bumped her shoe-clad toes against mine, close.
I took two steps backward. “This company was almost taken down by my partner’s misguided sexual encounters last year, and now that we’re part of NOW, we have to be extra careful. And the shit you pulled the other day, joking about my sex life, isn’t going to fly here. I like to run a casual work environment, but there are certain lines you don’t cross.”
Rachel lifted her right hand to her forehead and saluted.
“Sir, yes, sir. I promise I will no longer touch my breasts between the walls of Dreamary or discuss your sex life.”
I rolled my eyes as we stepped into the hallway, giving up. “Why do I even try?”
Rachel slapped my back. “Lighten up, Boss. Do you have a butt plug stuck up your ass?”
I glanced around but no one was within hearing distance.
“Or maybe you like that. Hey, I won’t yuck your yum.” She put her hands up. “Sorry. Sorry. No sex talk.”
I clenched my jaw. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or strangle her. “Please stop.”
“Okay. Okay.” She walked ahead, and I followed with lumbering strides.
Rachel pushed open the door to my office, and I choked on a shocked laugh. There were papers and files and trash bags on every surface of my office.
“What the hell, Rach? This is worse than before I hired you.”
She’d been in early organizing this morning, and I had gone straight to the studio, leaving her to the task.
“Chill out. This is still phase one. I have to get everything out of the drawers and filing cabinets and bookcases and pile it all in the middle of the room, and then we organize.”
“Where are the files for the upcoming podcast?” I glanced around and saw a sliver of red under a small trash can set on my desk.
Somehow, Rachel gracefully maneuvered over the mess and picked up the thick file and handed it to me.
“You’ll have to work with the minions out there until I’ve organized this.” She butted her chin toward the long worktables in the main part of the office.
I preferred working alongside my colleagues and often worked in the main office except when I was looking through confidential police files or sensitive material for an upcoming episode. Ironically, the next episode we were recording was a case about a young woman who was stalked and eventually killed by her ex-boyfriend.
I tucked the file further into my messenger bag.
“Have you talked to Detective Lee?” Rachel asked, referring to the detective in charge of her case.
“I grabbed a coffee with him yesterday,” I said. “Unfortunately, he hasn’t had time to dive into your case. He’s mainly doing this as a favor to me, and since nothing illegal has been done, it’s not his top priority.”
“I’ve been followed at least three times. That seems pressing to me.” Rachel crossed her arms.
“We don’t know for sure someone is following you,” I said.
“You said you believe women,” Rachel challenged.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, but there’s no solid evidence, and Lee has cases of actual murder victims he’s working on.” Rachel’s eyes widened into saucers. I immediately realized I’d said the wrong thing. I was so used to homicide and assault cases that I forgot it wasn’t everyone’s day job. I rested a hand tentatively on Rachel’s arm. “That’s not going to be you.”
Rachel nodded and roughly wiped the wetness from her eyes, which surprised me. She didn’t seem like someone who cried easily.
“Are you upset about the creep or something else?” I asked, noting the undercurrent of frustration or fear that had circled her since I saw her in the hallway.
“It’s my boobs.” Tears plopped out of her eyes, and she wiped at them roughly. I maneuvered Rachel onto a stack of papers, and I sat on a stack across from her, kicking my door shut.
“Did you feel something?” I asked, my voice low, careful not to touch her.
“I don’t know.” She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her sweatshirt sleeve.
“Will you check?” She looked up at me with those pretty, almond-shaped eyes that kissed in the corners.
“Your...breasts?” I asked to clarify.
Her chin trembled. “Yes.”
“Uh, no,” I said and opened my door a crack, suddenly wary of us alone in my office. “I don’t feel comfortable with that.”
Rachel shook her head like she was clearing it. “I get it. I shouldn’t have asked. That was so wrong. I’m just scared.” Her shoulders slumped. I’d never seen her like this, scared and defeated.
“Hold on.” I leaned over my desk and slid the cordless phone off the receiver and dialed a number. When Lexi answered, I told her to come to my office. “Lexi is on her way. If you’re okay speaking to her, I think she’s much more suited to handling this situation.”
Rachel nodded, looking miserable.
“Did you just feel it now, in the hallway?” I asked, opening my door wider.
“No. I lied before. I felt something last night. And this morning. And I can’t stop thinking about it.”
I awkwardly tapped my hand on her back. “It’s okay. We’re gonna figure this out.”
I looked to the door, willing Lexi to walk through it. As much as I valued the mental health of my employees, I wasn’t the one who could give help to them. I could barely help myself.