I'm frozen with his hand on my knee and that intent look in his eyes is making me feel...very conflicted. He's finished rambling for the moment, waiting for me to give him an answer and I realize I don't have a definitive one, just a million questions.
"Nick, first off, how dare you talk to me and about me like I'm just some...thing you and your wife can haggle over?? We work together, this is going to be so uncomfortable going forward. Did you think about MY feelings at ALL before putting me in this position?!"
The more that comes out of my mouth, the more my temper rises. I've had it with these men having such a sense of entitlement to me and my body and my time recently. I'm over it and throw the truck door open and jump out, walking as fast as I can to...well shit. He'd stopped on a street in a neighborhood I don't recognize. I hear him get out too, and he's calling out to me. He's apologizing, offering to take me back to the office and then he'll leave me alone. As much as I don't trust him, I'm not really sure where I am and my cell is getting crappy reception, so I reluctantly get back in the truck and true to his word we go back to the office.
I quickly pack up my computer and the client files I'll need for the rest of the week and go home. Once I get to my apartment, I turn the handle without thinking and the door swings in. Was I really so distracted that I didn't lock it on my way out this morning? Damn. Throwing myself together a quick lunch and settling at my desk, I notice everything feels slightly...off somehow. I can't quite put my finger on what it is, but I'm willing to chalk it up to Nick's bullshit fraying my nerves and finish up the afternoon's work.
I realize I'm in desperate need of distraction, and with a feeling that I'm probably making a mistake, pick up my phone to send a text.
