How to Deal with Bullies Ch. 01

Disclaimer: This story contains almost no useful information on how to deal with bullies.

You're going to say what you need to say and then leave. No backchat. Don't even let him speak. Just say it and walk away.

Fion tapped a foot on the elevator floor as it climbed to Level 12. At this time of day, most people were going down, so she was left alone, thankfully, in the small space. It gave her the silence she needed to think over her plan a few more times.

His is the office opposite the boardroom. Past Adam's desk, on the right. Door's usually open. Opposite the boardroom.

She rubbed her palms on her thighs. She took deep breathes in through the nose, out through the mouth and straightened her spine, raised her shoulders high, just like the book said to do. She'd worn heels to feel taller to feel more powerful. The balls of her feet hurt...

The lift stopped and the doors slid open. Directly ahead of her was an unmanned reception desk, behind which was the door marked EXECUTIVE C E ROGERSON and to the left, a short corridor leading to everyone else. Fion held up her chin and marched onward.

She met with numerous faces she knew as she walked by the rows of tables. They took double takes, confused; she didn't stop to chat. She took a cursory glance, out of habit, at her husband's desk as she passed. Up ahead on the right, the door that was usually open was closed.

She stopped. Lost. Was it too polite to knock? What if Rogerson and his assistant were in there for a meeting? She couldn't barge in. That would make things worse. She inched closer to the door and tried to listen. She caught pieces of a conversation... it was all one-sided... He was on the phone.

She opened the door and charged in, driven only partly by the embarrassment of being watched standing outside. She swung the door closed behind her and it slammed. Shit. She hasn't meant to do that.

Steven Baker looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. But if anything, he leaned back further in his chair, feet firmly planted on the desk, and continued to talk casually into the phone.

"No, it's fine. We've got a new batch of interns coming in next quarter, they can pick up the slack."

This was not how she imagined. She stood in silence, staring at him with what she meant to be pure indignation, waiting somewhat patiently now for him to finish up his call. He wasn't even looking at her anymore.

"You know what they're like. Most of them are students; they think it helps with their grades," he threw in a light chuckle for that last part.

An image flashed in her mind; Adam, three days ago, fighting back tears and almost breaking under the weight of it all. Fion lurched forward and stabbed two fingers into the phone bed, unceremoniously hanging up.

Now he was looking at her.

She straightened up and he calmly placed the phone back into its slot.

"Can I help you?"

"Leave my husband alone," her voice came out steadier than she ever dreamed.

He stared at her like he was waiting for a translation. "Who?"

"Adam Burke. He works on this floor. He does your work because you're a lazy, troglodyte pig and you bully him," she almost choked. You got this. "You force him to do things that aren't even part of his job and you berate him constantly. He's lost sleep because of you. Do you even realise how many nights he spent redrafting reports for you that were perfectly good to-"

Baker raised a hand to bid her pause.

"Troglodyte?"

"It means you're disgusting." She had no idea what it meant. "Leave my husband alone."

His eyes flicked to the full-length windows. The blinds, she only just noticed, were open and people were gleefully spying on the exchange from their posts.

"Let's talk over drinks," he rose from his chair and walked over to grab his coat.

"What?"

"Drinks," he repeated. "You drink, right? Christmas party last year, you had too much punch, started dancing on the tables?"

"That wasn't me!"

"Huh..." he pondered for a moment. "Shame. You can order water, then."

And with that, he walked past her and out the door, leaving it open for her.

Fion stood dumbfounded for a moment, looking from the door to the desk as if expecting him to come back. She felt eyes on her and shifted into gear, following him down the corridor at least to escape the attention.

The bar was a sleek, pretentious little joint where the staff knew him by name. It had a distinct members-only-elite-airline-credit-card-lounge vibe to it. He ordered the perfect IPA to pair with his shrimp platter and it all went on his tab. She ordered tap water. It came with a slice of cucumber. Stupid place.

"Have you ever considered that your husband isn't good at his job?"

This was the latest instalment in Steven Baker's defence. They had beaten around this bush a dozen ways and he still refused to acknowledge any wrongdoing.

"I apply the same pressure to anyone who can't produce the standard we need. If he wants to go home and cry about it, well..." He looked her over. "That's not what I'd do with a woman like you waiting for me."

Fion rolled her eyes.

"But you don't have a woman like me. Shocking."

He laughed as he ate and he sometimes talked with his mouth full. It was repulsive.

"It's just the way it is. Some people are too soft for this line of work. Most, in fact. And that's fine. But those people need to work somewhere else."

She'd failed to anticipate how incredible obnoxious he was. Adam had warned, in a sense, through the countless rants she'd been privy to. Baker was obnoxious, self-serving, bitter, an overcompensating douchebag, a tool (words most often used by those they describe; words her husband had learned from men like him.)

"He's not soft. And he's not bad at his job. You know what you're doing and you're going to stop."

"Or what?"

Steven kept his eyes forward and shovelled more shrimp into his mouth while he gave her time to think up an answer, which she couldn't.

"Here's the problem," he continued. "You want me to go easy on him but I can't give him a pass and then lay into the next guy for the same shit."

"Well, I don't think you lay into anyone as hard."

He stifled a laugh and took a swig. She didn't understand the joke and she wanted to. She realised finally that the way he kept his focus on his plate was a power play, so she'd be the one fighting for his attention.

"Alright," he said, taking another bite. "Sleep with me."

Her words caught in her throat.

She stared at him.

She could barely breathe.

"Excuse me?"

He turned his face to her and held her gaze. He didn't blink or smirk. There wasn't a trace of insincerity his voice as he spoke.

"You want me to ease up on Adam. I want to taste your pussy. Fair trade."

"Are you kidding? No!"

Revulsion jolted her out of her seat and grabbed at her coat, which caught, of course, on the back of the chair. How fucking dare you? she heard herself think or speak out loud, she couldn't tell, as she wrestled her coat free. She threw it on and began storming away.

"Wait."

She stopped and turn back to him. From the inside pocket of his jacket, he pulled out a case and a pen. The case held a business card and he wrote an address on the back. As he slid it across to her he told her, "the second number down is my personal phone. Use that one when you change your mind."

She picked up the card to inspect it and walked away. About halfway to the door, she cursed, realising she would've made a stronger exit if she'd left the card there.

It was already getting dark as the taxi drove her home.

She knew the house would be empty. But in her mind, all she could picture was Adam's drawn, forlorn face. She played with the business card in her hand so much it tore at the creases she made. She couldn't bear to see that face again...

She turned the card over to read his chicken scratch and told the driver where to go.

It's goddamn freezing...

Fion paced outside the building just as she'd been doing for the past two hours. It'd been warmer in the afternoon when she left and she hadn't dressed for this. Not that there had been any way to plan for this.

Will he have condoms?

The thought crossed her mind and made her pull her phone out to call a cab. This was ridiculous, she couldn't do this. She wouldn't cheat on her husband. It made no sense. He'd be hurt worse finding out about this. And she couldn't keep it from him.

Maybe if she talked to him about it? She could explain what Steven had offered and they could decide together to go through with it. Adam would never agree to it but she could try.

Maybe she could keep it from him? What you don't know and all that... She wasn't the worst liar in the world, not that it would even come up. And it would really help him.

The phone was still in her hand. She hadn't dialled.

Yeah, he probably has condoms.

This was the circle she'd run since the taxi had dropped her off. And she was growing less and less sure that she'd read the address correctly.

She looked at her phone. The sensible thing to do was of course to call him. He could hurry home knowing there's a woman like you waiting for me. Warmth coursed through her core. Cold fingers trembled over the dial pad. Telling him she was here made it official, the agreement had been struck. But she was still teetering on the edge of go-home-and-forget-the-whole-thing.

A car pulled up, quite a few of them had, but she knew somehow that this one was his.

This was it.

She slid her phone back into her pocket and fixed her hair. This was it. Her head started spinning, her whole body was clammy, shaking, wet. Her mind started to race, wondering what it would feel like. She felt herself on the cusp of an out-of-body experience. He was getting out of the car. This was it.

He found his footing on the pavement and turned back to the door. He offered a slightly unsteady hand to a woman who was also drunk, or it would've been too far-fetched to watch her literally fall into his arms. She laughed and he laughed at her. Then he noticed Fion and his smile faded away.

Now they were both staring at her. She hadn't felt so mortified in years, not since her school days when the floor refused to swallow her as she stuttered in front of the class. She could hear laughter. She moved toward Steven and his companion, passed their bewildered faces, and climbed into their cab. She gave the address of her home and the driver took her away.