I am a successful businesswoman. Or at least I was, until he came along. I have always prided myself on my intellect, my attention to detail, and my ability to multi-task. I manage a fairly large landscape company, staffed almost entirely by men, and am generally regarded as being tough as nails. At home, it is much the same, as my husband is content to leave household management to me. My children are not quite as easy to intimidate, but nonetheless, I am always in control. Or used to be...
He applied for a job one scorching hot day in July. I was short-staffed, and behind schedule on an installation project, so was probably less selective than I ordinarily would have been. Even so, right away, I knew he was going to be trouble. He sat without asking, appeared totally relaxed, and held my eyes with an intensity that made me feel like I was the one being appraised. His references were impeccable, though, and he certainly gave the appearance of knowing his way around a shovel. He was tall, very tan, and the tight T-shirt and jeans did nothing to disguise his muscular physique. I allowed myself a quick mental debate, weighing my need for labor against my initial reaction to the man. I had an excellent track record at snap character judgments, and serious warning bells were going off here, but I persuaded myself that my personal feelings had nothing to do with his ability to landscape. I told him that he was hired, and shook his hand. Had I not already been a little anxious, the electricity that flowed between our fingers would have done it. The deadline was rapidly approaching, though, so I took him outside and introduced him to the foreman.
Over the next few weeks, I began to think that my fears had been groundless, as Jake rapidly proved himself invaluable. My foreman raved about him, and he did seem to fit in effortlessly. Landscapers are a strange bunch, and on more than one occasion, I had been forced to let people go, simply because the majority of the men refused to work with them. Jake had no such issues, and seemed to be well liked. I was quite busy with new projects, but made it to the job site at least three or four times a week to check on progress. When I did, I always felt his gaze on me, but dismissed it as normal male posturing. Even though I was the boss, I was not immune to the occasional admiring glances at my body, but knew better than to take it personally. His stare, however, was different, and always made me feel as though he could see beneath my clothing. The work was getting done, though, so I chalked it up to an overactive imagination, and went about my business.
The last week in August, the project was finally finished, the client was happy, and the check was in the bank. I had worked everyone to exhaustion, so invited them all for a round of beers at the local pub. Ordinarily, I didn't socialize with the men, but that night I felt like I could make an exception. We went right after work, so we were all in sweaty jeans and T-shirts, but the atmosphere was quite festive. I had a couple of beers on an empty stomach, which went to my head quickly. I was just thinking about leaving when I felt a prickling at the back of my neck, and turned around to meet Jake's insolent leer. Suddenly, I was aware of the super-charged air conditioning in the bar, and the fact that my nipples were hardening. I made my excuses, and beat a hasty retreat to my office, which was within walking distance of the pub.
I had work to do, I always did, but tonight my office was more of an escape, and a place to think. I paced back and forth, wondering what I should do about Jake. Could I really fire such a good worker, just because he made me uncomfortable? And if I was honest with myself, "uncomfortable" really wasn't the right word. He made me feel naked, vulnerable, and completely out of control. None of which were appropriate feelings for an employee to create in an employer. The knock on my door cut through my inner turmoil, and somehow, I knew it was him. I opened the door cautiously, ready to explain that I was busy, but he pushed his way in easily, ignoring my feeble protests. Taking a handful of my hair, he tilted my head back, and his mouth was on mine in a way I hadn't been kissed in a long time. His rough calloused hand found my breasts, and then he released my hair, and grabbing the neck of my T-shirt, ripped it in two as if it were a sheet of paper.
