Page 7 of Unbossly Manners

“Rest a minute.” He put his hand out in front of his chair.

I sank into his office chair. He handed me a bottle of Smart Water from a mini-fridge next to the desk, then sat on the desk’s edge, crossing his ankles.

I gulped the cool water, draining the bottle.

“Was there an incident in the office that upset you tonight?” His tone was detached. Like a… well, like a lawyer. “You were distraught when you ran into me.”

“It was nothing.” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

Getting me the first-aid items and water was nice, but I’d never call Jackson amiable. Intimidating and serious, yes. With an air of disinterest.

“I think it’s something.” His voice was gentle, and his concern thawed my defenses unwittingly. This was not a man I wanted to fall apart in front of, but I was hungry and tired and emotionally spent.

My chin wobbled, and tears pricked my eyes.

“I’m overreacting,” I said, grinding my eyes with my fists, smudging my mascara. “It’s stupid. Nothing happened. Not really.”

“Look.” He exhaled loudly. “You don’t know me. But I have a teenage daughter, and if you feel comfortable, I’m a good listener. Her world is always falling apart—in teenage terms—and she talks to me.”

My guard dropped a few more inches. I spun the chair in a circle then stopped it abruptly with my toes.

“This guy, Chip—my roommate’s brother—took me out tonight. It was going fine, but then he…” I ground my teeth until I had control of my emotions. The urge to get this off my chest was strong, but saying it out loud made it that much more real. “He ended up being horrible.”

Jackson’s fingers tightened around the edge of the desk. “Did he mistreat you?”

My mind shot back to my face between Chip’s legs, his hands pressing my head down, his nasty words.

Fresh tears spilled, but I wiped at them fiercely. “We were fooling around and he just said some shitty things. That’s all.”

I rolled the chair backwards until it hit the wall of windows. I twisted the chair around and looked at the twinkling lights, not feeling any of the magic I usually felt when I looked at the cityscape at night.

I was humiliated and furious, and it was all on raw display in front of this near-stranger.

“I need to get out of here,” I said, planting my feet on the ground.

“Wait.” Jackson took a half dozen hurried steps to me. He was taller than me, and I was no slouch at five-eight. “Is this guy—your roommate’s brother—staying at your apartment?”

“Forget about it. It’s not as bad as I’m making it sound. He didn’t force himself on me or anything. I went willingly. Very willingly.” I cringed thinking about how I threw myself at him after the date.

“Verbal abuse is still abuse.”

I laughed sardonically. “It wasn’t abuse.”

There was a light knocking on the doorframe. A petite, brunette woman stood there, her tawny-brown skin had a light glow as if she’d recently been in the sun. Jackson stepped away from me, guilt flashing across his face.

“I’m fucking beat.” The woman announced charging in. When she caught sight of me, her bright amber eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“Hi,” she said, with a wide smile.

“Hi.” I walked around the chair and pushed it behind the desk. “I’m Peyton, a colleague of Jackson’s. He was giving me bandages for my cut.”

I shrugged my injured shoulder.

“You look a mess. Are you okay?” Her gaze spilled over my injured arm, messy hair, and red splotchy face.

“Bad date.”

“There’s more to that story.” She glanced at Jackson and he nodded once confirming her suspicions.

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