“I’ll just bet,” Katherine mocked, but her sarcasm was lost on the unsuspecting Happy. Didn’t she wonder what Jace’s reason for coming around was in the first place?
Jace answered that question for her. “The roughnecks are doing some preliminary land clearing on the site where we want to drill, so I’m free for a few days. Isn’t that fortunate?” His smile was beguiling and deliberately aggravating.
“Extremely,” Katherine smiled back with matched brilliance, hoping to provoke him. But he only laughed. He was the most infuriating man!
The next few days fell into the same pattern. He was everywhere. Every time Katherine turned around, Jace was there. He helped Happy with odd jobs; he took her car to be serviced; he sat with Allison one afternoon so Happy could attend a woman’s social at the church. He offered to help Katherine in her apartment, but she summarily refused his smallest gesture of kindness. She wasn’t going to be swayed by this hypocritical charade.
By Friday afternoon her nerves were frayed to shreds. With the fall semester starting, her office had been unusually busy. She wasn’t able to keep up the writing of the press releases and promotional material that was required of her. Jace and his activities had weighed heavily on her mind all week, and she found it hard to concentrate while sitting at her typewriter.
“Katherine.” She jumped as Ronald Welsh spoke at her shoulder. He had an annoying habit of sneaking up on her and then profusely apologizing for it. His comforting pats on the arm disturbed her.
It had been necessary to continue the lie about her being a widow when she applied for the job. He had been moved by her tragic story, and Katherine thought his immediate concern for a total stranger had been suspiciously effusive.
“Did I startle you? I’m sorry.” As she placed the plastic cover over her typewriter, he came around to face her. “Are you in a hurry to leave tonight? Thought maybe we could start celebrating the long weekend early with a drink?”
Katherine shrank from the large, beefy hand that had settled on her shoulder and pinned her to the chair. She tried not to panic or jump to the wrong conclusion, but suddenly she felt uneasy in the close intimacy of the office.
“Oh, thank you, Mr. Welsh—”
“Ronald.”
“R-Ronald, but I really do need to get home. My goodness, look how late it is,” she cried, making a cursory check on her wristwatch, and not even noting or caring about the time. She only wanted to leave the confines of the small office.
She managed to extricate herself from the chair, but as she moved toward the door, he grasped her arm. “Everyone else is gone, Katherine. They were all so anxious to clear out and get a start on the Labor Day holiday. We can have the building all to ourselves and enjoy our own celebration.” To her increasing horror, he crossed to the door and locked it.
“I know you don’t want to disappoint me. You like working here, don’t you? I hope so. It’s so important that you keep a stable job like this one. I mean, you’re a widow with a little girl, you know,” he cooed unctuously.
Katherine’s throat constricted in fear as he stared at her with glinting, fevered eyes. She swallowed convulsively and decided that her best defense was bluffing him into thinking she was agreeable to his tête-à-tête.
“On second thought, Ronald. A drink sounds nice,” she said brightly through frozen lips. Her whole face had become stiff. She had to get to that door!
“I knew you’d go along, Katherine.” His short, thick body moved toward her, and he reached out and stroked her cheek with sausagelike fingers.
Katherine nearly choked on the bile that rose up in the back of her throat, but she managed a caricature of a smile. Her mouth was so dry that her lips stuck to her teeth.
“What do you like to drink, my dear? Did you know that I had this little liquor cabinet hidden here for occasions such as this?”
He winked at her before he turned around to lean over a desk drawer. Katherine took one hesitant step toward the door. To cover her movement she said, “Anything is fine with me. Whatever you’re having.”
“I love an uncomplicated woman.” He straightened, holding a bottle of cheap liquor in one hand and two dusty glasses in the other. Katherine recognized them as those that were used in the campus cafeteria and wanted to laugh hysterically. Mr. Ronald Welsh didn’t waste any money on his seductions.
“Come over here and sit beside me, Katherine. I want you to relax.” He settled his bulky frame on the small sofa and patted the cushion.
Other than making a mad dash for the door which was across the room, Katherine had no choice. She would have to bide her time until she saw an opportunity for escape. But would such an opportunity come before it was too late? On shaky knees she went to the sofa and sat down beside him.
The sweet odor of the thick hair oil, his sweat, and the reeking liquor he was extending toward her almost made her retch. But she smiled and raised the glass to her lips. Her drinking habits were limited to wine or drinks that camouflaged the taste of liquor. She could barely swallow her tentative sip of the raw, burning rye.
“I like girls who wear dresses. You’ve never come to work in anything but a skirt or a dress.” He placed his sweaty palm on her knee and began inching it up by small degrees. This couldn’t be happening to her!
“A lot of men don’t like panty hose, but I do. I find panty hose incredibly sexy, Katherine.” His hand was under her skirt now, sliding higher and pressing harder. Beads of perspiration dotted his upper lip.
“Please, Mr.… Ronald—” Her voice came out high and squeaky. His next move took her completely by surprise.
He lunged at her, forcing her backward on the sofa. He fell on top of her, knocking the breath out of her. His heavy hand reached for the front of her silk shirt, and the breast pocket came away in his fist as she jerked out of his grasp.
“You can’t fool me, Katherine. You want this as much as I do,” he grunted. “Go ahead and scream if you want to. No one will hear you.”
He was panting, or was that her own ragged breath that echoed in her head as she struggled under his crushing weight. “No… oh, God… you’re mad… please, no.”