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My eyes narrow at his insinuation as Lori’s arm twitches around me, her grip on me strengthening yet again, and I take it upon myself to end the unpleasant interaction. “Well, it was nice to meet you, but we should probably get going.”
The smugness on Paul’s face wavers, revealing his annoyance at being dismissed, but stables again as he smooths down his tie. “Yes, my apologies. I didn’t mean to hold you two up.”
He takes a step in Lori’s direction, closing the gap between them before leaning in and giving her a kiss on the cheek. She closes her eyes as if pained by his act of affection, but remains otherwise frozen and silent. Something about him is causing this volcanic fury to course through me. I don’t like it, or him, or the way Lori seems to have shut down in his presence.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Paul says as he backs away.
He glances my way one more time, smirking before he slinks off. I glare at the back of his head, fighting the urge to go after him and punch him in his haughty face as Lori drags me out of the banquet hall.
“Who the hell was that guy?” I ask once we step outside.
Her arm falls back to her side, and she shifts out of my hold with a shrug, not even bothering to look my way as she answers. “No one. I mean, it’s like he said.”
Handing the valet my ticket, I study her. “A mentor? And there was nothing else to it?”
She shakes her head, biting into her lip so hard I’m surprised when it doesn’t draw blood. Then it hits me like a punch in the head. High school, older guy, helped her with writing. My stomach knots, and I run my hands through my hair as my head spins.
“That man…” I point to the doors we just exited. “Is he the one?”
Lori’s spine straightens, her eyes wet as they finally glance my way, giving me my answer. I’ve never felt so much rage toward another human being in my life. I’m at a loss, unsure what to do with all this anger.
Turning on my heel, I charge toward the banquet hall, determined to find Paul and release some of this wrath buzzing inside of me.
“Where are you going?” Lori calls, her heels making an awful clacking sound on the pavement as she chases me.
“Where do you think I’m going?” I grit. “I’m going to have a little chat with that creep.”
“No.” She grabs ahold of my arm, pulling at it as she steps in front of me. Her eyes are wide with fear, her breathing heavy. “Please, please don’t go back in there. Everyone I work with is in that room.”
My jaw tightens as I consider what she’s said, my stare flickering between her and the entrance to the building. “I’m not going to make a scene. I’m going to calmly advise him of what will happen if he ever speaks to you or comes near you again.”
I move to step around her, but she blocks me, placing both hands on my chest to keep me in place. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not? Are you afraid of him? What the hell was that back there?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Well, you can try to explain it to me later.” Mentally planning my strategy, my eyes move to the door again. “After I go deal with him.”
Lori’s hands cup my face, her mouth crashing into mine before I can even fix my gaze back on her. I’ve thought about kissing her all night, and I quickly begin to lose myself in the softness of her lips. My hands reach out to feel her and pull her closer as her tongue begins to caress mine. It’s the sound of someone cheering us on that brings back my senses, and I swiftly break the kiss, realizing what’s happened.
Removing her hands, I take a step back. Her worried eyes meet mine, and I shake my head. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“Did what? Kiss you? You said you were dying to kiss me.”
Feeling sick to my stomach, I lift a shaky hand and rub the back of my neck, unsure if I’m upset with her or myself for falling for it. “Not like that. Never like that. Don’t use your body like a weapon. Especially not with me.”
She gapes at me as the valet steps up to us and clears his throat. Cutting my eyes at him, I yank my keys away from him then take Lori’s hand in mine, heading to the truck. We still have a lot to talk about, but not here—not now when we’re both worked up.
ILLUSIONS OF ASH
I’m sure anyone hearing my story now is wondering how I could ever have anything to do with Jim after that night in his Jeep. I don’t blame them. It’s always easier to dictate how someone else should’ve handled certain situations when you’ve never walked in their shoes. We tend to judge others more harshly for their actions than we do our own. It’s a big part of why so many women stay quiet after experiencing sexual assault or abuse. The fear of what someone else will say, what they will think of you, turns your tongue into lead and keeps you silent. Every time you question yourself, wondering if it was something you’d done to cause what happened, if things really happened the way you remember, you know that other people will be asking those same questions and more.
There’s no simple answer, no way to explain why I continued my friendship with Jim, why I didn’t tell anyone. The truth is, I don’t know why. There were so many contributing factors. Fear of what would happen if I spoke up. Uncertainty of my memory given my drunken state. Guilt from knowing that I wanted him to notice me that night. Blame for not telling my sister the moment he acted inappropriately. There’s also one other thing, one that’s hard to admit even to myself—I didn’t want to lose him. I know now that all the good stuff wasn’t real, that he was simply grooming me for the terrible things to come. He earned my trust and loyalty to ensure I wouldn’t tell on him. At the time, though, I wanted so badly to believe he cared for me as fiercely as he pretended to.
That’s what made our next encounter possible, the night he not only crossed the line but erased it completely. We’d all gone out to dinner that night, Nicole, Jim, a couple of their friends, and me. It was something that had become a weekend ritual. I was so excited to be included in my sister’s circle of friends. We were never all that close as kids. In fact, there were times when my sister was downright cruel to me. Part of it was your typical older sister stuff. Though I suspect Nicole resented that I got to live with our dad. By the time Nicole was a teenager, we rarely spoke. But it finally felt like we were sisters.
Throughout dinner, Jim was much more brazen than normal. He kept finding reasons to touch me and whisper things in my ear.
