"Thank you," Harper quavered, moping her cheeks.
"Come on, I'll make you some tea and you can tell me what's wrong."
Still holding her by the hand, Renee led Harper back down the hall, and to a door, usually locked, that led to her and Angus' private quarters.
Even with everything that had been going on, Harper broke into a smile at the sight of an old-fashioned parlor, with velvet sofas and chairs, and even a chaise lounge, around a distinctive fireplace. Built-in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covered one wall, with a bank of windows on another wall overlooking the wide, lush lawn and the edge of the thick woods beyond. Bright rugs were tossed haphazardly here and there across the highly polished wood floor.
"Ohh!" Harper breathed, taking it all in. "It feels like..."
Home, her fox said, equally rapt.
Yes, but not ours, she told it.
Ours should be just like this, Reyna decreed. Harper couldn't find it in her to object.
Renee released her hand, and nudged her toward a chair. "You sit, and I'll make us some tea," she said, moving toward a sideboard that held an electric kettle and a variety of tea bags and such, similar to what was always available in the inn's dining room.
Harper had to chuckle, as Renee returned with two cups of tea, pressing one of them into her hands.
"Is tea your answer to all woes?"
Renee's smile gleamed white against her dark skin, and she sipped her own tea. "At all events, it can't make things worse. So what's happening with you? I thought you were liking your job?"
Harper stared morosely into her teacup. "It's not the job that's the problem."
She'd held back some when relating her troubles to Jake. She knew without doubt that he would take up cudgels in her defense if he knew how bad it had gotten, and she didn't want him to put his job on the line. But with Renee as a sympathetic auditor, with no ties to the bank, Harper was able to pour everything out, not only the tricks and the harassment, and the odd foot tripping her as she walked past one of the women's cubicles once, but her own internal angst, the feelings of helplessness, and fury, and the unending apprehension of what would happen next.
"The worst is that there isn't anything I can do," she finished, wiping more tears away. "I feel so... so helpless. I have no control over this, and no way to combat it, either. All I can do is wait, and pray they'll lose interest. It makes me feel weak, except I'm not! And yet, at the same time, I don't see a solution. And I hate feeling like this... like a victim," she said bitterly.
"Yes, waiting them out isn't likely to work," Renee concurred. "I suppose telling your manager, Lydia, is out of the question?"
Harper combed her fingers through her hair, loosening the curls from the bun confining them. "I've thought about it," she admitted. "But it feels so juvenile. 'Mommy, Billy tripped me' and "Mommy, Billy stole my pens.' It's just all little, petty things. If they did something truly awful, something dangerous, or illegal, I wouldn't hesitate. And I don't even want revenge, or to make trouble for them or anything. I just want them tostop."
"If one of the other employees was having this trouble with them and came to you for advice, what would you tell them?" Renee asked shrewdly.
Unable to meet her gaze, Harper stared at the floor, brushing the tip of one shoe across the thick nap of the carpet. "Tell her to report them," she mumbled.
"Mmhmm."
There was a moment of silence.
"You know," Renee said gently, "you say that you're not responding to them at all, not acknowledging them. Have you considered that your own lack of response, even simply looking them in the eye and letting them know that you know what they are doing, is actually pushing them to try harder, to get a reaction from you?"
Harper's head came up, alarm making her heart pound in her chest. "I can't... I can't do that," she whispered. "I just can't. And even if I did, the chances are that would make it worse, because they would know they are getting to me. So either way, they win, you know?"
With a grimace, Renee admitted the truth of this. "Yes, you could be right." She hesitated a moment. "You aren't going to let them push you out, though?"
Inside, her fox growled, bristling. Harper straightened her spine, squaring her shoulders. "Never," she vowed. "I may not like this... in fact, I hate it! ... but they're not driving me away from my job! They are not going to win!"
Then she slumped a little, taking a deep breath. "I just have to figure a way to get through it with my sanity intact."
Renee chuckled, and reached for her cup. "Let me get you some more tea."
Harper managed a wobbly smile, dabbing at her eyes with Renee's handkerchief. "Do you often have to rescue your guests from emotional breakdowns?"
Renee's warm laugh filled the cozy parlor. "More often than you'd think. This room has seen its share of tears and troubles." She settled back in her chair, cradling her teacup. "Sometimes people just need a safe place to let it all out."
"Well, your tea and sympathy are working wonders." Harper's shoulders relaxed as she breathed in the soothingchamomile steam. The fire crackled softly, casting dancing shadows on the bookshelves.
