Please let me know if I should continue this story xoxo
*
Jenine rested against the counter of the office kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee as slowly as possible, reluctant to get back to work. Her manicured fingers tapped against mug irritably. Jenine had always loved her job, even if it was in the bottom floor of the building. She had never even been to the top floor, never even met the boss. She did occassionally get an email from him, as did everyone, checking there were no problems, but that was it. But Jenine was content and hoped to work her for a long time. There was just one problem.
Micheal. The dark haired, dark eyed, dark skinned man who didn't even seem to work there. Jenine had only ever seen him wander the halls and chat to the other workers. He obviously had thing for Jenine, which she wouldn't have minded thanks to his runner's physique. But he was way too pushy, and a bit of a perv. He would often corner Jenine just to 'talk' to her, getting closer and closer until 'personal space' had lost all meaning. Sometimes, if they passed each other in the corridors, his hand might accidentally brush up against her thigh or her tight butt. Jenine always made sure to let him know how much she hated these actions, but he didn't seem to take her seriously.
Jenine sighed and put down her now empty mug. But before she could take a step, in walked Micheal. Great. No more places to hide. Jenine pondered what to do (so far she was tossing up between walk past him without looking or simply knee him in the nuts and be done with it) as Micheal leered at her, his eyes scanning over her nicely shaped legs, her flat stomach, her robust chest and even her auburn hair, tied into a tight bun at the top of her head. Eventually Jenine gave up on the kneeing-him-where-it-hurts idea and made to just leave before words could be made. But Micheal was having none of that. He grabbed her arm, surprisingly gently, and turned her around to face her.
"Remember the first day we met, Jenine?" He asked casually.
"Unfortunately," came Jenine's reply. Micheal had managed to talk her into going for drinks after work. All she had learnt about him was his name. She was too drunk to remember anything else. Having woken up on the path outside the bar the next morning, she realised what kind of a man Micheal was - the kind that doesn't bother to even call his drunk, vulnerable date a taxi - and refused to go out with him again. That was how this whole mess had started.
Micheal laughed heartily. "C'mon, I know you had fun. Almost as much as me." There was a twinkle in Micheal's eye at this point that Jenine didn't like. She wrenched her arm away and stalked out of the kitchen. Heading straight for her cubicle, Jenine decided that was enough. She had put up with his shameful behaviour because of the love she had for her job. But no more. It was time to make a complaint. And not by some easily lost email.
*
The next day, Jenine didn't go to her floor. She stood nervously in the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. She was making sure the boss new about Micheal. She had had enough. When the doors dinged open, Jenine stalked right up to the Big Man's secretary... And was asked to please wait. It was like being told to please hold when talking to an Indian telemarketer on the phone.
Eventually, after about 15 minutes, Jenine was called in. She stepped into the boss's private office, closing the door behind her. She started her rant before even turning to face him.
"Listen sir, I've always enjoyed this job and I hate to make fuss, but there is a man who..." By this time Jenine had turned and faced the man in charge, an action that brought her to a dead halt. There, behind his shining polished desk, sat Micheal.
Jenine gasped in horror. "No... No, no, no way you can be..."
Micheal confirmed her fears with a small nod. "I'm the boss-man." His face lit up in that trademark leer of his. "Gotta admit... It was a bit of a turn on hearing you call me sir."
