Work and Play Pt. 06

"I just think if it's bad enough, people will know about it."

"Never hurts to remind people of our zero tolerance policy," Shannon says quickly. "Where are we going for lunch?"

--

I can't stop tapping my foot and picking at my nail, wondering how this conference might have an effect on Clay. I didn't even see him today, which eased my mind a little, but I still got in a rush and forgot to take my Adderall. The last thing I want is a slip up. Clay's read on me still has a certain effect on me. I'm not going to tell anyone. He could've made me do a lot more in that bathroom and I still wouldn't say a damn thing about it.

I hate being this way.

"Mind if I sit?" I hear to my left. Jiao holds a clipboard in her hands. She looks like she's never had a bad hair day in her life. I shake my head, and she sits. "How are you this morning?" she asks.

"Managing," I answer quickly with a nervous chuckle. "I'm not a fan of meetings like this."

"They're necessary. That's what Gabriel would say." Between being burned up about Grayson, Gabriel being annoyed with me, and my own personal worry, I don't know how to sort out what's important. I simply shrug and try my best to stop tapping my foot. "Have you talked to him lately?"

"No."

"You should. He's being distant with me. He doesn't talk to a lot of people, and he barely knows anyone here," Jiao says.

The men and women of human resources present the topic in the front of the vast room, talking to us as if we're all the same person. I still have the last quarter cup of my coffee in my hand, and I contemplate throwing it away, but that would mean standing up while everyone else is sitting. I don't want any attention. The guy sitting on my other side looks about as happy to be here as I am.

As HR starts talking about what sexual harassment is and what happens and why it happens, I find myself dissociating, tapping my foot faster and biting at my lip skin until I can taste the faintest trace of blood.

"It is always imperative to report any kind of sexual harassment. Sexual harassment can be expressed through words, gestures, and of course, actual physical contact. Sexual harassment can occur from male to female, female to female, female to male, or male to male—"

The man beside me scoffs, mumbling under his breath. "Heh, men don't get sexually harassed, you twats."

Before I even think about it, I drop my cup of coffee right onto his lap, and it instantly splashes his khaki pants in lukewarm hazelnut roast. At least he'll smell good. "Oh my—I'm so sorry," I whisper. The guy looks like his head is about to explode, and I'm trying to fake sympathy as much as possible. "I'm really sorry."

"Idiot," the guy whispers, standing up and pushing past multiple people to leave the room.

The rest of the meeting is about things everyone already knows, or should know. I spend that time glaring at the back of Grayson's head.

When everyone returns to work, Shannon's boyfriend surprises her with flowers and balloons. I suppose I'm not having lunch with her after all. Probably a good thing, since I can't seem to beat my anxiety-ridden ticks today.

Beth calls me at four o'clock, rambling on about school and home and whatnot. I love listening to my sister be a normal teenager. I was never normal. I said my first curse word besides "hell" during a community barbeque the summer before I left for Harvard. I had sex without having any sex education besides "wear a condom". I didn't see R rated movies until college, and I even set my own curfew the first two years I was there. I never even went to my friends' houses when I was in school.

"Hey, I got a question. I'm graduating in a month, and... I don't wanna stay at home. It's bad, Zeke. Michael doesn't even wanna leave his room. I think he's depressed—you know Mom doesn't believe in depression. Anyway, I don't know if I can survive the summer with her. We'll get into a cage match. Anyway, I took college courses, you know? And I was wondering if I could... maybe move to Colorado for the summer? Intern where you work? It's okay if it's not an option, I just—"

"Beth, no... I mean yeah, it's a great idea, but OTech scrapped internships four years before I even got here. I'd love for you to come." I think of ways to approach the situation. I could straight up ask Gabriel. That may not be chain of command, but it's my best bet. God knows I need to have a serious talk with Grayson about how he went on and blew my situation out of proportion, so I'm not asking him anything. "You know? I'll see what I can do."

"Oh my—this is going to be the best summer ever! I'm going to start packing right now, Zeke. You're my hero. You really are. I love you."

"Love you too, Bethany."

________________

I didn't say anything when Grayson told me to look for two ancient files downstairs. I wasn't even short with him. I'll pat myself on the back later.

The old file room is exactly something you'd see in a horror movie. There's a single lightbulb hanging by a cord, and it doesn't even light the whole room. All of these files have been made electronic, except the ones filed before 2001. If I can figure out the pattern of the files, I can find what I'm looking for in no time.

I'm just starting to figure out the chaos when I hear the door close behind me. Instantly, I'm on the defensive before I even turn around.

"Workin' hard?"

I simply stare at Clay Edgar, eyes wide and heart pounding. I'm sure I'm white as a sheet as I tremble, not knowing what to do. It was easy upstairs; there were people around. I'm in the most inconspicuous place this building has to offer, and he has me cornered.

"I have to go," I say softly. Clay smiles to himself, nonchalantly messing with the loose files on the cabinets and on the table.

"Now, Princess, what you shakin' for?"

"I just—I don't want to mess with you, okay? I'm just going to leave," I propose, my voice wavery, lacking any kind of conviction.

Clay takes a step forward; I take one back. My back is already at the wall. I start breathing fast, thinking of a way to get him away from me without being too loud. I just start shaking my head until he inevitably places himself only inches away from me. I don't want it—I don't want him touching me again. No, no please no I can't deal with this again. I can't have another panic attack I can't feel dirty again I don't want it I don't—

"Are you scared of me?"

I just stare at the ground. I've never felt as helpless as I do with him. He doesn't have to do anything, and I could easily report this mess. But the bottom line is, I don't want anyone knowing. I plain can't stand the fact that even if people know it wasn't my fault, I'd still be getting eyes from everyone, having them wonder why I was the target for Clay's harassment. I wonder if I'm just obviously gay, and nobody says anything about it, and Clay is just taking advantage of this. He already knows I'm terrified to come out.

So I can either risk everyone knowing my sexuality and report the bastard, or I can stand here, shivering almost to tears, and let him do whatever he wants... again.

Option three: I could beg.

"Please don't—look, I'm sorry about what I said earlier, okay?" I start. "I understand that it's hard—"

Clay gives me the most genuine-looking concerned face I've seen on him. "You think I'm punishing you for some reason? I'd never want you to feel bad, Princess," he whispers, running his forefinger along my bottom lip. I flinch away and shove my hands out, barely pushing him backward. He retaliates by quickly pushing his body against mine while I whimper and whisper 'no no no no' over and over again.

"I won't tell anyone, I won't tell anyone, I swear. Just don't—"

"That's the point Sweetheart. You're not gonna tell nobody." Clay tilts my chin up, and I feel it all hit me at once. Again, I'm not going to do anything. Again, Clay is going to get his fix off of my body, and I won't say a damn word.

"Fuck, you're hot," Clay mumbles, grabbing at my waist and humping into me slowly. I can feel the swell of his dick already. He's so disgusting. "Oh, Princess; don't say I'm alone on this one," he grunts. I know it's a bad idea to shove him off of me, but I try anyway. I miss, and end up hitting him in the face. Clay is quick though, and grabs me by the wrists, slamming me hard against the wall. And in a loud voice, just to get my heart racing: "Oh, you want everyone to know we're in here, don'tcha? Is that it, Harvard?" Clay begins dragging me toward the door as I protest. I keep repeating a series of "no, please" over and over again, frantically, before Clay lets go of my arms and slaps me in the face hard enough to get tears stinging at my eyes. "Then shut. The fuck. Up."

My fight or flight response is such shit.

I smack my hand over my mouth to keep from sobbing aloud as Clay ruthlessly humps into my covered ass, grunting and moaning. Actually taking clothes off would be too much of a hassle for him, I suppose. With every ruthless, harsh grab at my waist or my pecs or my ass, I have to fight back tears with all I have. Why is he doing this why can't he leave me alone why can't I just stop being a homophobic piece of shit and report him—

"Touch me."

"No," I squeak out.

Clay whips me around to face him, grabbing my face harshly so I have to look him in the eyes. "I don't think you understand the conditions of this arrangement, Princess. You make me feel good, and I don't tell anyone. Now, if you want to break those terms, I won't hesitate to break them either. Unzip my pants."

Before I know it, Clay is breathing hard in my face, the strong stench of alcohol clouding the air around me, and I have my hand wrapped around his rock hard dick, barely stroking. I only hope my touching him is enough, because I've been on the verge of tears for the better part of fifteen minutes. Clay has a firm hand on my ass, squeezing and rubbing and mumbling in my mouth about how hot this is, and how he thinks about me all the time. As if that's supposed to flatter me. I don't know what the chances of him telling everyone about me are, but I'm not risking anyone taunting me for my sexuality here. I swear I'll break down if Clay tries to make this a regular thing.

You got such pretty lips," he groans, taking his other hand and not-so-gently stroking along my bottom lip with his thumb. He HAS to be sick of this at some point. I flinch away, completely letting go of him and trying to draw into myself as much as possible. "Shhh, I won't make you blow me," he laughs. He fucking laughs at me as he tucks himself away.

Clay's phone begins to ring, making me jump. He doesn't answer, but he sighs. I think he's done with me. "I'd cum on those pretty lips of yours, though. Yeah, I would. Pretty blue eyes and that pretty red hair—" Clay buckles his belt, still keeping me cornered, "I'd pull your hair and fuck you raw, Sweetheart. You're nothin' but a pretty boy who thinks he's important cause of this job—you ain't nothin', baby. Nothin' but cute as hell. Now, someone didn't apologize for smacking me in the face earlier, did he?"

"I-I'm sorry," I say lowly, voice cracking.

"Good." I just stare at the ground as Clay gropes me one more time, palming at my dick and shamelessly sliding his hands up my torso while I tremble.

He leaves when he gets another phone call, and I'm left inside the room, mind going a hundred different directions at once. I feel myself slip to the floor, and my breathing gets heavy. I hate him. I hate Clay and I hate myself for letting him do whatever he wants to me.

I can't stop the tears once they come.

----

I have avoided my office space and everyone around it for the past two days. Clay wasn't there for one of them, which was nice, but I've cried more in the past 48 hours than I have in probably five years. Gabriel hasn't even tried contacting me, so I'm pretty sure I fucked up with him after getting so flirtatious with Sean. I thought about that yesterday and cried even more.

"Okay, what's wrong?" Shannon asks. I almost flinch out of her grip on my arm. "You're ridiculously jumpy; you probably said a good fifty words to me yesterday. C'mon, Zeke. Talk to Mama."

"Nothing's wrong," I lie, dodging her gaze.

"Yeah? Can you explain why you've been biting so much at your lips that they're swollen? And why Grayson can't even contact you?"

"Please don't—" before I can finish, Shannon drags me into her office. "Shannon, I'm just stressed."

"Look, I'm concerned for you. You haven't spoken to us, you haven't talked to me or Grayson since Tuesday—"

"I'm just really stressed right now, alright? I just need some time to stress without everyone down my throat about it, Geezus." I tug at my hair and try my best to keep my breathing regular.

Shannon sighs, staring at the ground. "Do you have a drinking problem?" she asks softly. Before I even get the chance to scoff and overreact, she cuts me off. "I know it's crazy, but after the St. Patrick's Day party I just—"

"I do not have a drinking problem," I state plainly. I have a lot of things I haven't told Shannon, so I start with something simple, sitting down next to her in a chair. "I know it sounds simple and stupid and ridiculous... I have ADHD. I'm really self-conscious about it, and I should've told you a long time ago."

"All this over ADHD? Zeke, I thought you might've had ADHD a while back, when I first met you. Is that all?" Shannon says with a friendly laugh.

"No, but it's something I don't like to think about. And I don't want it to get in the way of my becoming CEO or anything. When I get stressed, I don't take my medication and I feel like everyone looks at me like I can't handle my job. And now I'm starting to doubt whether I think I can handle it or not. Shit," I rub at my eyes and lean backward. That's just the first in a long line of things I haven't told Shannon about me, even if she already knew it. Next is that I'm stressed about my family, because they hate me. They hate me because I'm gay. I'm gay. I'm screwing Gabriel. Somehow Clay Edgar knows I'm gay and is harassing me for it.

Oh, and I have anxiety.

"Nobody's asking you to put this company on your back and carry it up a mountain, Zeke. Pushing your limits doesn't mean breaking yourself down in the process. I think maybe you should take a step back and have faith in the people that got you here. You do have other people who can help you, you know."

"I suck at asking for help."

----

Grayson waltzes into my office, asking about when we're going to run when I cut him off with my hand.

"Problem?"

"Cute, Grayson. I say something about someone hypothetically getting sexually harassed at work, and suddenly, we have a meeting the next day. Awesome. Glad to know you're thinking of me," I snap.

Grayson scoffs, closing the door behind him. "First of all, Ezekiel, despite whatever you might think, my life does NOT revolve around you... secondly, if there IS 'hypothetically' a 'non-hypothetical' problem, yes, I'd like to know about it. And yes, if I thought there were something to be concerned about, I probably would call a meeting. Which I didn't. Why don't you go home on time, hmm? Cool off?" And with that, he leaves. Great. I pissed him off. I KNOW not to rub it in his face that I'm not interested.

Just to reach for one last hope, I go to Gabriel's office to see if he has time to ease my stress. Or at least talk to me. Save for our morning escapade, this whole week has played out like we've never even touched each other. As I knock on the door, whatever Gabriel and Jiao are talking about comes to an abrupt halt. Before I can open the door to go inside, Jiao beats me to it, excusing herself with a smile and heading off to the break room.

Gabriel sits at his desk, rubbing his eyes. When he sees me, he swipes the hair out of his face. "Did you need something?" he sighs.

His opening remark throws me off guard. "Just stopping by. I'm not really feeling like myself... I can't really start my spring project until I'm focused. Hell, I don't even know what that's supposed to be yet. Grayson is pissed at me, and—"

"Have you started your resume for CEO?" Gabriel interrupts.

"...yes. I update my resume every time I work on a project," I respond quietly. After a few seconds, I sit at his desk across from him. "So my sister, Beth, will be graduating high school soon. She's going to college here in Colorado. Fort Collins, actually. CSU."

"Good for her," Gabriel says plainly, arms crossed and staring at the wall.

"Yeah... she wants to move here after graduation. She's really smart; has a lot of experience in organizing and sorting things. She's almost as good in finance as I am." Gabriel remains motionless. "She actually asked if I could maybe help her get some experience in finance before she goes. I know we used to do internships—"

"Used to," Gabriel sighs. "Not anymore."

"Well, why don't we start that up again? And I mean, not just Beth, either. We could maybe open it up to the surrounding schools, maybe host a job fair—"

"I don't think so, Zeke. Don't want a bunch of immature kids running around. If we were going to do that, which we aren't, we'd have to provide it to college students."

Why is he being so numb about this? "Well, I mean, I was fresh out of college when I started WORKING here... not even interning. I uh, I think it'd be nice to reach out and spread our horizons to young people. We've really strayed away from schools and education and whatnot—"

"No, Zeke."

"Are you sure? Even if it's not my sister—"

"I. Said. No," Gabriel says loudly, causing me to flinch. It takes me a few seconds to gather myself, which is just enough time for Gabriel to realize how he's acting, but I'm already out of my seat.

"Shit, sorry. Sorry for bothering you," I say quietly, walking out of the door before he gets the chance to say anything. That was stupid. I already knew something was bothering him. I shouldn't have even asked. Even if it is a good idea, Gabriel isn't having any of it. Before I can fuck up something else, I force myself to go down to Grayson's office to ask him what I should work on before spring ends.

I'm in his office within two minutes. The look he gives me tells me exactly what he's thinking. I decide to do my part early on. In the past two months, my work life and my personal life have been clashing entirely too much.

I close the door behind me as I step inside. "I'm sorry."

"I accept."

"You don't have to."

"Why did you kiss me the other day?" he asks. I shrug, trying to think of an excuse. "Are you okay with me going out with Sean?"

"Of course! That's why I set you two up."

"Then don't play with me like that. You know it's taking me a while to get over... whatever. I'm just not up for a run-around. I'm almost 33 years old." Anything I say at this point will be rambling, so I don't say a word. I've never seen Grayson hold a grudge, but I don't underestimate his pettiness. "Now, did you just come to apologize?" he asks shortly.

"You sound like—" I cut myself off before saying 'Gabriel'. "You sound like you need to go running... I'd like to go with you."

Grayson smiles to himself before turning to his computer. "Yeah. Seven? And then we can eat afterward?" I nod.

"And... I was wondering if you had anything specific in mind for a project I can start."

Grayson shrugs. "Well, since the big guy's here now, I have no clue what he wants to start. I tell you, Gabriel is so hot and charming, but he's ridiculously hard to read. You should ask HIM instead because I cannot read his mind."

"I doubt he wants to talk to me," I say quickly. Then my jealousy sets in. "Do you talk to him often? Gabriel?"

Grayson blushes. "Not often. I wouldn't say that. But frequently... I don't know. It's all about work. It wouldn't matter anyway; he's hopelessly straight."