Chapter 127

You burst out of the elevator. Now that you were on the right floor, you weren’t even sure where you wanted to go. Your cheek was stinging like a motherfucker, but if you just went to the conference room or to Garrison, or even to HR, you had no proof. Even if everyone believed that Joy had slapped you, the next obvious question is why she slapped you, and she was right. No one was going to believe you over her - no one but Sabrina and Gemma, at least. And maybe Becks.

Gemma made up your mind as you spotted her walking down the hallway towards you. She was in work mode and had several files under one arm, walking them either to the filing cabinets or to an office. When she spotted you, Gemma’s face broke into a smile that immediately slipped as she saw the look on your face. Or maybe it was the bright red handprint on your cheek.

You didn’t want to talk to her about it. You wanted to hide it, or make it go away. She didn’t need to know, except she definitely needed to know. Your emotions were all over the place as the adrenaline of getting into the conflict was still bubbling under the surface.

She was coming from your left, so you headed right and ducked into the men’s washroom. It was blessedly empty and you went to the sink, setting your phone down on the counter and staring at yourself in the mirror. The outline of Joy’s hand was still clear, but slowly fading. Soon there wouldn’t be any evidence whatsoever that it had happened.

Gemma didn’t care that it was the men’s room. The door had barely shut properly when it opened again as she followed you in. She took another long look at you as your eyes met in the mirror.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Joy decided that she wanted me to be her toy for the summer. She got Sabrina out of the storage room and cornered me, and told me she would reward me for playing along and being her boy toy. She didn’t appreciate being told no,” you said.

Gemma stepped towards you and turned your face to her, taking a closer look at the handprint. Her eyes were hard and she was frowning heavily. She took out her phone and took a picture of it.

“It doesn’t prove anything,” you said. “He said-she said at best, and she’s a Senior Partner’s daughter.”

“Still better to have it than not,” Gemma said. Then she closed her eyes and let out a long, slow breath. This was a side of Gemma that you hadn’t seen before. You’d seen her flirty, and professional, and vulnerable. You’d seen her sexual and passionate and frustrated. You hadn’t ever seen her pissed off. “I think I might literally kill that bitch,” Gemma said. “Seriously, John. You need to stay the fuck away from her because if she touches you again, I’m going to get deported for what I do to her.”

“Gemma, I hear you. But that’s not realistic,” you said. “We work in the same office, I can’t just avoid her.” You checked yourself in the mirror again, the red hand of the slap still burning on your cheek. “We’re going to need to figure something out.”