Lovely Liaison
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Mel Ryle
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4.6M
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30
Wake Up and Smell the Harassment
ZOEY
Six years out of the University of Illinois, and life hadn’t exactly followed the script I’d imagined.
Maybe because I hadn’t really written a script.
I used to be a planner.
But that was a few years back, and life had taken a few unexpected turns since then.
I’d earned a BA in Business, with dreams of becoming an Advertising Manager.
I was drawn to the strategy involved.
Being connected to every part of an organization.
Uncovering what the organization truly was and what it truly needed.
And figuring out how to communicate that to the world without spelling it out.
I loved what I was working towards.
Well, what I was aiming for.
I hadn’t quite reached it yet.
Fresh out of college, I’d labeled myself an “aspiring Marketing Manager.”
But as time passed, that title became harder to wear.
A family health crisis—my mom’s hypertension diagnosis—threw me off balance.
I’d never faced something that forced me to examine my life so closely.
To question my priorities.
I wanted my career to take off. My family wanted that for me too.
But if it meant sacrificing time with the people I loved most, could I really make that my top priority?
I had to make a choice: chase the job that could kickstart my career or support my parents through the toughest time in their lives…
At the time, the decision was easy. I followed my heart…and put my career on hold to be there for my family.
We were fortunate, and my mom’s condition improved. But by then, the internship and the job that followed had slipped away.
I never regretted my choice.
I was grateful I could be there when my mom needed me, and I didn’t resent the delay in my career progression.
I didn’t mind putting in the work.
Burning the midnight oil.
You name the cliché.
…But, to be honest, some days at some jobs tested my patience.
***
“Zoey? Oooooh, Zoey?” Mr. Daniels’ voice echoed through the wall, and I rolled my eyes.
I was on my break in the employee lounge, engrossed in an online magazine article, trying to stay under the radar.
I plugged in my earphones and focused on my article.
Hawksley Has a Hot One! Eccentric CEO’s New Land Development Project is an Ambitious Endeavor
I had a thing for architecture, and every headquarters and hotel Hawksley Enterprises built were architectural wonders. I followed their every move.
I’d studied them in college, during the Business degree I was currently putting to zero use.
At twenty-seven, I wasn’t exactly climbing the corporate ladder at breakneck speed.
College felt like a distant memory, and I never planned to end up as a secretary in an ad agency.
But I had obligations.
To my parents. Now that my mom couldn’t work, they needed help with the bills.
To my boyfriend. Whenever he was in town.
To my landlord.
And now, unfortunately, to Vlashion, the ad agency I’d stumbled upon in the “Wanted” ads two years ago.
They needed a secretary, and I needed a job.
I’d lost my stride after college and was struggling to reconnect with my old business school networks.
I wasn’t disheartened that my career hadn’t taken off yet. I just needed the right job to get me started.
Not that it would be this job.
From day one, I knew the same issue that had pushed me out of my previous jobs would eventually push me out of this one.
Harassment.
Mr. Daniels, or Don as he sometimes insisted I call him, didn’t share the same understanding of professionalism, respect, or consent as the rest of the world.
And I was his target.
Hearing him stomping around outside, I quietly moved my chair behind the wall of lockers. If he came into the lounge, maybe he wouldn’t see me.
If I didn’t read quickly, all I’d think about for the rest of the day would be how to dodge the date, after-work drink, or nightcap he proposed almost daily.
Forget about that jerk, I told myself. You’ve got ten minutes. Read!
Hawksley Enterprises had hosted a gala at their newly completed UK headquarters in London, attracting billionaires, celebrities, fashion icons, you name it.
The article praised the company’s impressive real estate portfolio across the United States, Australia, and Europe, and discussed its plans to expand into Asia and Latin America.
“Show some global initiative!” their CEO Julian Hawksley was known to say.
It seemed ‘Hawksley’ would soon be as familiar a name as ‘Rockefeller’.
The article included a video clip: an interview with Julian and Jensen Hawksley, the company’s owners.
I hit play, watching the London cityscape whizzing by behind the two handsome brothers.
Julian spoke first, responding to an interviewer’s question. “The place is great—spectacular! We’ll take you for a spin through here, come on!”
Jensen, the more serious younger brother, cleared his throat, and Julian rolled his eyes and calmed down.
Julian looked a bit wobbly. He’d clearly been enjoying the champagne, and he shrugged at his little brother, unapologetic about celebrating.
Julian continued, “We’re thrilled with the place, but I want to go for a fleet! We’re in London, we’re in New York City, a few more underway in Asia and Europe!
“What I’m really excited about, though—breaking ground in the Windy City!”
Jensen nodded and chimed in, “Yeah, we’re considering a new branch stateside. There’d be a lot of logistics to sort out, especially for a building complex as big as we’re envisioning. So don’t hold your breath—”
Julian grabbed Jensen by the shoulder, suddenly animated. “Don’t waste your breath! A toast!”
He raised a champagne flute, but it was empty.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, even as a smile tugged at my lips. Julian Hawksley, the notorious playboy, was nothing if not entertaining.
Jensen continued, “We’re not rushing into anything. We have a long list of requirements: access to the coast, transportation, proximity to downtown and the business district—it’s a lot…”
My mind wandered to my hometown, mentally ticking off areas that might fit the bill for these billionaires. I went through each neighborhood…
Wrigleyville… Lincoln Park… Streeterville… The Loop… South Loop…
A snort escaped me.
Who was I kidding? The chances of my input making any difference were slim to none. Don’t get ahead of yourself, I warned myself.
Stay focused. You have responsibilities.
On the screen, Julian had somehow procured a bottle of champagne and was popping the cork with a loud bang.
Mr. Daniels must have been eavesdropping because the door to the employee lounge swung open almost immediately. He peered around the room until his gaze landed on me.
“I thought I’d find you here…” he started, closing the door behind him with a soft click, hoping no one had seen him sneak in.
“Yep…” I responded, trying to give him the cold shoulder, hoping he’d take the hint.
But Mr. “Don” Daniels never took the hint.
“Oh, sweetheart, can’t you show a little more enthusiasm? I know you’re not passionate about this job—but it pays the bills, right?” he said.
His condescending tone irked me. I retorted, “I always give my job my full attention and dedication—”
He dismissed my words with a wave of his hand, moving closer to start massaging my shoulders. “I know you do. I just feel like... you know.”
I stiffened. Who did he think he was, touching me like that?
“No, I don’t. I know I have three minutes left on my break,” I said, hastily packing my phone and snack into my purse and attempting to stand.
He let me go, but followed me to my locker. He leaned against it and said, “And what could we do for three minutes?”
“Excuse me, Mr. Daniels.”
“Zoey... Don, just once. I want you to call me ‘Don,’” he insisted.
“Mr. Daniels, I want to leave this room now.”
“‘Don,’ I want...?”
I stared back at him, my expression unyielding.
He raised his hands in a mock surrender. “Jeez, so serious! Fine. I came in here to get more paper for the copier, you let it run out again—”
“That’s not true, it’s full! I fill it every morning!”
“Well, indulge me, would ya? I want to make sure we don’t run out. We make ads, can’t be running out of paper, grab a fresh box.”
I rolled my eyes, wanting to scream at him. Bullshit.
He didn’t care about running out of paper, he just wanted to watch me bend over to pick up a box, so he could ogle my figure.
We kept spare paper in the employee lounge near the fire alarm, to keep the office looking neat for clients.
Unfortunately for me, there was no way to lift the box without showing off my backside.
As I crouched down to grab the box, Daniels sidled up behind me, pressing against me. “Help with your balance,” he said.
My mind was racing. I didn’t feel threatened, but I wasn’t about to leave it up to Daniels.
I needed to get out of this room and away from him immediately, and the first thing I saw was the fire alarm.
Without thinking, I reached out and yanked it as hard as I could!
A deafening RRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNGGGGGGG echoed throughout the office, and the sound of rushing footsteps filled the building as everyone evacuated.
Mr. Daniels stared at the chaos, distracted enough that I was able to push him away, thrusting the box of paper into his arms.
“You take it!” I said, and bolted out of the room, slamming the door behind me.
I joined the stream of office workers heading for the exits. I shrugged along with my coworkers, pretending to be as clueless as they were. “A fire drill?” “Who knows?”
As I filed out the door with everyone else, Daniels emerged from the employee lounge with the paper box, shooting me a scowl from across the lobby.
Not the scowl of an angry boss, but of a hunter whose prey had slipped away.
Not every day was as bad as this latest incident in the lounge, but it wasn’t his worst behavior, either.
Enough is enough, I thought to myself.
I need a new job!
