Page 9 of His for Christmas
I worked through a few of the files before a sound distracted me. Had that come from Mr. Thompson’s office? I went back to work, trying to focus, hoping it would be enough to keep this job…
That noise again.
I walked closer. The door was open, and the overhead lights were off just like the rest of the floor. It looked empty. So what had made that sound? Or who?
It didn’t escape my notice that this was exactly how I’d gotten in trouble last time—going into the boss’s office while he wasn’t here. But I had to see for myself, make sure everything was okay, now that I’d heard a sound.
It was a little spooky on the floor all alone.
But it turned out the boss was here. He was sitting in his chair, wearing what appeared to be the same suit as last night, or maybe he had an entire closetful of custom-tailored suits. This one looked a little more rumpled than last night, tie loose, the top button undone.
His head rested on the leather back of his chair, and his eyes were closed. Was he sleeping?
I started to back away without making a sound.
“Come in, Ms. Cole.”
Okay, not sleeping. I took a deep breath. “Good morning.”
“Sit down.”
I sat. Oh God. He was going to fire me. That was the only explanation for him wanting to talk to me about it. So much for pretending it never happened.
He opened his eyes—and even in the shadows I could see he looked furious. And terrifying, all over again. Whatever softness I’d imagined while he’d touched me was gone now. In its place was only Gage Thompson. I’d faced down people who wanted to hurt me with my chin held high. I had to, because weakness only made them hurt you longer. But they were junkyard dogs to his big bad wolf. Deep inside I began to shake.
“Mr. Thompson, about last night—”
He stood and circled the desk, and I couldn’t help it—I cringed back. His expression was too angry. He looked exactly like the Big Bad Billionaire. I didn’t think he’d hurt me, but I hated the thought of him being angry at me. I had always been a people pleaser. It was just how I was built. I would have done anything he said.
He set something down in front of me on his desk. His phone, black and sleek and forbidding.
“You can call from here.”
My voice trembled. “Call who? The temp agency?”
“I suppose you should call them too, after. But no. I meant the police.”
Fear spiked inside me. No no no. He must have realized who I was. Had he already reported me? Or was he waiting for me to call, to turn myself in? I couldn’t do it. “Please no,” I breathed.
“The police,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’ll leave the room if it makes you more comfortable. I’ll remain on this floor, so they know where to find me.”
“To find… you?”
“You can wait here, of course. You’ll be comfortable. I won’t bother you.”
Uncertainty wove its way around my limbs and chest, a tight sort of comfort. He was telling me to call the police and assuming they’d come here. But why was he being so solicitous while he did it? Why would it matter that the criminal who’d lied to him was comfortable?
“Mr. Thompson,” I said slowly, “I know I’m not the brightest bulb. But it almost sounds like… like you want me to call the cops on you.”
“That’s exactly right, Ms. Cole.”
“Angel,” I corrected absently. “But why would I call the cops on you?”
“Because I raped you.”
He did what to me? Shock held me breathless for a moment. I couldn’t even feel relieved that I was off the hook, because this was too crazy. I blew out a breath. “No, you didn’t.”
“I did.”
“I was there. I would have noticed.”
He cleared his throat. “I penetrated you with my fingers. Without your consent. You need to report me. I won’t contest it.”
Penetrated with his fingers. God, it sounded so cold. And somehow hot. But regardless of how he said it, he hadn’t hurt me. “It wasn’t against my consent.”
He made a scoffing sound. “Of course it was. You wouldn’t have let me touch you. A stranger. A stranger like me.” Before I could even ask what he meant by like me, he continued, “But you knew I was the boss. You felt coerced. Of course you did. Anyone would.”
“Well, I’m glad you have me all figured out, but it’s not true.” Not to mention that even if it had been against my consent, I would hardly be calling the cops on him. That would only expose the fact that I’d lied to get this job.
“You didn’t feel coerced?” An eyebrow rose. “You didn’t know I was the boss?”
Heat rushed to my face. Of course I’d known he was the boss. He only had to speak, only had to stand behind me, only had to put his hand on my hip, and I’d known who was in charge. “I let you touch me because… because I was surprised, at first. And then I was confused. And then I didn’t want you to stop.”
