#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.