Chapter 3 Assaulted

• "You know, Elena," Craig began, letting the pointer finger of his hand drop to my shoulder. It began to draw small circles there. "This is really stressful for me."
• I fought the urge to shrug his finger away, and tried to lean back slowly, as if to see his face better.
• "I mean, I genuinely like all of my employees. You are all so good, so valuable."
• His finger became the back of his fingers and he brushed them up toward my neck.
• "I've had a headache for days straight. Can you believe that?"
• "Yes," I said, thankful for the opportunity to pull away and look into his face. "I have, too. It's hard for all of us."
• He smiled. "That's one thing I like about you, Elena. You're sympathetic."
• "What's the question you had for me?" I asked.
• To my dismay, he scooted closer, undoing the slow, few inches I'd managed to put between us.
• "You know, Sandra, my wife?"
• "I met her briefly at a party, yeah."
• "We've been having problems."
• "That can't be helpful at a time like this."
• "See? There you are being understanding again."
• He smiled and I tried to smile back. I didn't like where this was going.
• "After the last holiday party I had a few too many drinks. I love the punch the HR ladies make."
• He was famous for getting plastered at holiday parties. I'd learned to steer clear of him if I didn't want my backside grabbed.
• "It's totally my fault, but Melanie from marketing smelled so good that night. Like a roasted chicken, and my mind just went. I couldn't help it. I mean, obviously, I prefer my wife's scent but it was just so different."
• How do I get out of this? I thought.
• He wasn't looking at me but was gazing at my neck, his fingers starting to move again, fiddling with a lock of my hair.
• "I'm sorry, I don't see where this is going." I leaned away but he continued, not seeming to notice.
• "And of course, that smell is pretty strong. Sandra smelled her right away."
• "Oh."
• My eyebrows raised. Why was he admitting this to me, confirming my suspicions that he was indeed the sleazeball I'd imagined?
• "My question to you, Elena, is this." He leaned into me, his right arm around my shoulders closing in and pulling me close, his left circling my waist.
• "Since you have no scent, can I be with you and not get caught?"
• He pressed me back against the couch, his horrible smell overwhelming me, making me gag.
• "Get off!" I pushed him with all my strength, throwing myself sideways and stumbling as I broke free and dropped from the couch.
• I chanced a quick glance at him, sprawled on his face and half falling off the couch before I turned and ran toward the door.
• I yanked it open and flew out, ignoring the alarmed stare of the man who sat waiting for the next interview.
• It wasn't until I was in the furthest cubicle against the wall in the women's bathroom that I began to breathe. I sat on the toilet, my head in my hands, taking big, gasping breaths. I was angry and scared all at once, my chest contracting with emotion.
• Little by little, my breathing slowed and my mind began to clear. I could hear my breathing echoing off the cold tiles around me.
• I needed to go to HR. I should have reported it in the past. But now I needed to do it before I excused it away.
• I stood, straightened my clothing, and took a deep breath.
• I knew people underestimated me, but I also knew that if I could bypass their scent-bias then I could be powerful.
• I held tight to that knowledge inside me and strode confidently out into the hall. I took the stairs so not to hinder my momentum and went down the stairwell to the HR offices.
• I spent the rest of the day attempting to concentrate on my work, but it was impossible. I tried to interpret the expressions of the HR workers and remember the scents. Had I detected a slight increase in body heat? An uptick in the strength of the odors?
• Finally, one of the HR workers, Cecilia, came to my cubicle and led me to the conference room for a meeting.
• As soon as I walked in my heart began to pound. Craig was there, as was his boss and another HR representative. I could feel the tension in the atmosphere, sense the heat and heightened scents.
• I looked at Cecilia, assuming she was my representative, but she took a seat on the manager's side of the table, leaving me alone and as if I were on trial.
• The other HR representative began to read a statement, during which Craig never took his eyes off the table where his finger drew the same circle it had on my shoulder.
• My mind buzzed as the words began to sink in.
• "... total fabrication... a desperate move to keep her job... continued failure of basic duties."
• When they finished, the HR manager put down his paper and looked at me with cool, grey eyes.
• "That is all. We will be contacting you..."
• "Hold on," I said, anger making my voice quaver.
• "This is outrageous. It is a total lie, and what's more, it's slander."
• "Slander?" Craig scoffed. "You're the one slandering me, Elena!"
• "Not if it's true. And I can prove you're wrong with the statements about my performance. If that's fabricated then it absolutely calls into question the remainder of this statement."
• "We didn't see any performance appraisal materials from you," the HR manager frowned.
• "That's because I left it on his office floor as I literally ran away from assault. Thankfully I have copies and I will email one to each of you directly after this poor excuse for an HR intervention."
• Dead silence filled the room.
• "All of that is inflated. Fabricated," Craig said, looking a little desperately at his manager. "She has no proof I tried to touch her."
• "Ask a dozen other women in the office if they've ever been touched."
• More silence.
• The HR representative cleared his throat. "We will get back to you in the next 24 hours. I suspect we will have to take this to a higher level."
• "What?" Craig looked incredulous.
• I rose, looking as confident as I could despite my legs trembling from a mix of fury and anxiety.
• "Expect an email from me soon," I said to everyone, and strode out the door.
• I don't know how I made it to my cubicle, but I wilted into my seat and put my head in my hands, trying not to cry.
• After a few deep breaths I sat up, and with shaking hands began to forward my performance reports to everyone who was in the room and the general mailboxes of HR as well, just in case.
• No other work was sent my direction that day.
• It was as if Craig and other managers had assumed I was already gone.
• After I left the office, I was surprised to see a late email from HR. It was simple, but ominous.
• "The new leadership has been informed about the situation and finds it complicated enough that they will handle it themselves. Changes in position will be announced tomorrow."
• "Complicated?" I said aloud to the streetlights around me. A passing commuter looked at me warily and continued.
• I had no idea what that meant, but I was sure it couldn't be good.