Chapter 11 #3
Startled, I touch my fingers to my lips.
When he confirms my suspicions with a nod, I rush off to get cleaned up.
I notice some funny looks along the way, but it’s not until I’m safely behind the door with the little lady pictogram on it and see myself in the mirror that I finally understand the extent of the damage.
My lipstick is smudged all around my mouth and a mess of red curls has escaped from my hairdo.
I could easily be mistaken for Pennywise the Dancing Clown’s long lost bride.
Shocked, I rummage through my clutch and try to sort out my lipstick situation with some tissues.
Dammit. Val told me I looked presentable before I went back inside.
I take my hair down completely before repinning it from scratch.
When I’ve straightened myself out, I exit back into the hallway.
Passing by a door labelled PRIVATE, I hear noises coming from inside the room.
There’s a man’s mumbling voice, a woman’s response, and then the sound of shattering glass.
The image of Dante’s thrusting ass appears in my mind’s eye and I pinch my eyes firmly shut.
Then, just as I’m about to keep moving, I hear the same woman’s voice utter a very clear no.
I turn back, staring at the door handle.
The last time I casually opened an employees-only door left me with major regrets.
No, I hear again, louder now, and the man begins to mumble soothing words.
Determined, I grab hold of the handle and push it down.
The melody of Tonight from West Side Story plays off in the distance and I hear the sound of laughter coming from the party.
When I fling the door open, I’m looking directly into Ronald’s green eyes.
He’s looking over his shoulder at me, a startled expression on his face.
I notice his tie is undone and dark chest hair is sticking out of his unbuttoned shirt.
My eyes shift to the blonde woman, frozen in place and pressed up against the wall.
Robin looks scared. The thin strap on her dress has been snapped and it's dangling loosely down her arm.
Hannah, Ronald says, breaking the silence. There’s nothing to see here. Run along.
I look over at Robin, whose eyes are squeezed shut. She swallows hard. She seems desperate for me not to leave—and obviously I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t wish any of this on my worst enemy.
Robin, I say, my voice steady and my eyes locked onto Harry. They’re looking for you. Some kind of mishap with the waiting staff.
She lets out a sigh of relief as she removes herself from Ronald’s grip. She sprints out of the room, the sound of her heels fading quickly.
Ronald’s eyes narrow as he comes closer, focusing in on me. Chest heaving, he glides his tongue along his lips. He takes another step closer and when he lifts a hand to grab my arm, I take a step back.
I would think long and hard about my next steps, if I were you. My voice sounds a lot calmer than I feel, but I keep staring him right in the eye, not planning to show him even a glimmer of fear.
His lips curl up into a malicious smile. I have to admit, you’re a gutsy one. He licks his blobfish lips, as if he’s just been served a tasty dessert. They’re usually a little more fearful.
My heart hammers wildly inside my chest, but I refuse to give into the fear.
I hardly think you’re in a position to make demands here, young lady, he continues.
His big belly pokes out so far in front of him that it’s nearly touching mine.
His breath puffs across my face. It smells like he’s ingested an entire liquor store.
I’m on the Board of Directors, and you .
. . You’re just some little assistant. Replaceable. What do you thi—
Before he can finish his thought, I knock his arm aside and, with all my might, knee him in the crotch.
He folds over, grabbing his family jewels as if he got hit in the goods by a pellet gun instead of a knee. The screechy pitch he’s squeezing from his throat might as well be coming from a recently-castrated field mouse.
You . . . You . . . BITCH, he groans. Tears well up in his beady eyes. He looks like he’d gladly strangle me right now, if only he could manage to stand upright.
I swallow. My legs are trembling, but I’m still attempting to look unfazed. That was the last time you’ll ever put your grubby hands on a woman again, I say, my voice steady.
My menacing tone is not lost on him. He narrows his eyes again, shooting me a hateful glare as he tumbles to the floor with a groan.
I spin around and slam the door shut behind me as my breath quickens.
Out of nowhere, I feel violently nauseous.
Palms sweaty, I stagger back to the party room where I’m welcomed back by Coldplay’s Viva la Vida.
I want to get as far away from Ronald as possible.
Despite my queasy state, I walk over to the closest server and snatch a glass of unicorn piss from her tray.
I toss it back in one gulp, then immediately grab a fresh glass.
Robin is nowhere to be seen. I’m a bit unsettled that she stormed out of the room without sending someone to the rescue. Dazed, I stare into the bubbly pink liquid in my glass, when I suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder. I startle and look up, right into Val’s worried eyes.
Hannah? he says, concern in his voice. A deep furrow appears on his brow as he takes me in from head to toe. He runs a hand through his hair, still messy from our outdoor escapade. What happened?
Without replying, I chug my second glass of glitter.
As he awaits my answer, Val’s eyes flit across my face, then look over my shoulder as he watches the door I just came out of open and close again. Immediately, his concern turns to shock.
What happened with Ronald? he asks.
Licking the champagne from my lips, I scan the room, looking for another server to rob. I wipe my clammy hands on my dress before replying. Let’s just say that the phrase ‘blue balls’ just took on a whole new meaning for him. I spot a server and swap my empty glass for a full one.
Val seems shaken as he looks from me to Ronald and back.
A bitter tightness pulls at his jaw as a bloodthirsty look floods his eyes.
He sets his glass down on one of the tables, pushes up his sleeves, flexes his biceps like he’s Rocky, and gears up to go knock some sense into Ronald.
The same Ronald who still can’t stand fully upright.
I grab his wrist mid-lunge. Not here, I say, gesturing at the people all around us. Follow me. I pull him away from the party, back toward the now-vacant Valentine’s department.
What the hell do you think you were doing, you son of a bitch! Val shouts when the three of us are standing in his office just a little while later.
He’s reading Ronald the riot act and the man seems to be shrinking under Val’s furious glare. I’ve never seen him this angry—which is saying something.
Val smacks the table, hard. Assault and abuse of power are just about the lowest of the low and I won’t tolerate anyone getting away with that. You can count on it.
I’m surprised there’s no steam shooting out of his ears as he calls a disgruntled-looking Ronald every possible variation of revolting pervert. I’m pretty sure he even made up some new ones. Val’s vocabulary always expands a little when he’s mad.
Ronald keeps shooting me spiteful looks during Val’s tirade, which only earns him an additional barrage of swears and threats for daring to look at me like that.
Ultimately, Ronald gets fired on the spot.
He’s honestly lucky to make it out of Val’s office with the bridge of his nose intact.
When the door closes behind him, Val blows out a shaky breath and stares up at the ceiling.
He leans against his desk, gripping onto the edge of the tabletop so tightly that his knuckles go white.
Val? I ask, gently touching his hand. His eyes soften a little when his gaze finds mine.
He shakes his head. I was fighting so hard not to punch him in the face. Linking his fingers with mine, he asks me how I’m doing.
The corner of my mouth lifts a little as I reply. I feel a bit calmer now. At least he didn’t get to do what he was planning to. Let’s just say it’s been an eventful evening. I give him a reassuring look.
Eventful might be the understatement of the year. In just one night, I managed to get almost-kissed by a cute coworker, get actually kissed by my boss, and expose a first-class perv.
Sweeping a lock of hair from my face, Val seems to gradually calm down. And then his expression turns uncertain.
Hannah . . . he says, wetting his lips as he tucks another lock of hair behind my ear.
That thing I just said about abuse of power?
I meant it. I got carried away on the terrace earlier.
Please be honest with me. Did you feel at all pressured, even just a little, to go along with my completely rash decisions out there?
I tilt my head to the right a little, studying the beautiful man in front of me. Val, I reply with a sweet smile. Please believe me when I say that I was 100% on board.