“I think—”
He cuts me off. “You don't need to think. You're just a stupid girl. A stupid girl who doesn't know what she wants. You’ve been teasing me for days now. You bend over when you know I'm watching. You lean forward so I can see down your shirt.” He makes a slurping noise with his lips that makes me cringe. “I've got a nice bonus to you give. It's in my office. A nice, thick, hard bonus.” He grabs his crotch with his free hand as he holds the glass in the other.
“Mr. Scaramuchi,” I say sternly.
He raises his brows high and angles his head. “Yes?” His voice comes out somewhat smooth, crackling from years of smoking.
“You do know this is sexual harassment, right?” I take a step back, hoping he'll stop before I fucking slug him. The bin is against my hip, my fingers holding it so tight they're white knuckled.
I'm trying to stay calm and not let the anger I feel bubble to the surface. I really need this job. Maybe he doesn't realize that what he's doing is making me uncomfortable. I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt, a thin veil of doubt with a lot of room.
Ignorance can be a blessing, but it can also be a curse.
If he's this ignorant that he doesn't see how he makes his staff feel, and how inappropriate his comments are, then someone needs to tell him. It's possible no one has ever stood up to him before.
“Excuse me?” he coughs out the question, spitting some of his drink back into the glass. “Harassment? You're fucking kidding me, right?”
“I'm not, I'm serious. You can't talk to me like this.”
His face turns beet red, brows furrowing hard. Thick lines crease his forehead as his pupils turn to pinpricks. Giovanni clutches his glass with thick, hairy fingers, tipping back the last of his drink in one angry gulp.
Hissing under his breath, he wipes his wrist against his lips and snaps at me. “My office, now!”
“No,” I say.
“What did you just say to me?”
“I said no. Or has no one ever told you that before?”
The room goes silent as his outburst draws attention on us. The other waitresses and waiters all stop what they’re doing, shifting their attention our way. But I don’t care. Let them look. Let them realize that this man doesn’t have the right to treat us the way he does.
His eyes turn to slits as he glares at me with a sick smirk on his face. “I know what your problem is. You need me to teach you a lesson, don’t you? Because I can do that. I can spank you and you can call me Daddy if you’d like.”
“You’re a fucking perverted little man.” I take a strong step closer, standing a good four inches above him. “I would never let you touch me, not even if you were the last man on earth. The problem is, I'm too damn good for a piece of shit like you.”
I drop the bucket on the ground, and the dishes all clank together. A few of them break and I can see his eyes widen in shock. Ripping the apron off, I ball it up and throw it at him. Giovanni is standing with his mouth open.
“You're a sad excuse for a man, and I don't need this shit. I fucking quit.”
I storm past him, grabbing my purse out from under the bar. The room is still sitting in complete silence. It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Giovanni slams the glass on the ground, shattering it to bits.
His red cheeks are now almost purple from holding his breath, and his eyes glow like fire. “No one talks to me this way! You hear me? No one!”
“I just did. Now go fuck yourself.” I flip him the bird, lifting my chin and throwing the door open, never looking back.
I might need this job, but I have too much self-respect to just stand there and let this asshole treat me this way. I'm better than that. I'm better than this job. And I'm better than him.
As I walk back alone to the apartment, the adrenaline from what just happened starts to fade away, allowing my brain to function again. The realization starts to set in that I have no income.
My bank account is basically empty. I have no skills to offer this city. I'm a small-town girl who knows horses and gardening. That's it. I don't know anything else.
What the fuck did I just do? How am I going to pay for anything?
Tears start to bubble over my eyes. I failed already and I just got here. I'm going to have to move back home and give up on this before my life even begins.
I hang my head as the tears roll down my cheeks. I've never felt so horrible before in my life. Choices don't seem like choices anymore when I just screwed myself. Ever since I made the decision to do this, my mother stood behind me. She pushed me to go.