Finding Alana by Meg Farrell Read Free Book Online Page A

into me, and I could smell that cheap-ass aerosol cologne he wears. I was about to gag because it was so strong. I pulled back and managed to ask him to let me by. As I went to move by him, he snaked his arm around my waist and grabbed my ass. He whispered in my ear, ‘I love dark meat. Go ahead tell HR this happened. It’ll be your word against mine.’ I pulled away from him and ripped the door open. I was so freaked that I forgot to get my copies off the machine. I went straight to the bathroom to calm down. When I got back to my desk, my copies were in my chair with a sticky note that said, ‘I own you.’”
     
    “Kate! That is some scary shit. Tell me you took the note to HR immediately!” My blood is boiling for her.
    “I did. I went to see a lady named Caroline. She said there’s no security cameras in the copy room. Then she said the note could have been from anyone. She offered to have a strong conversation with him. I couldn’t help but laugh at her. Does she really think that will do anything but piss him off? When he gets pissed off, what happens to me then?”
    My agreement is swift, “Well, what’s she going to do about it?”
    Kate looks defeated, “She can’t do anything. No one saw anything. The story can’t be corroborated beyond my statement. He was right. It is he said/she said.”
    “I’m sorry. Anything I can do?”
    She grins. “Yeah. Get promoted so I can take your old job!”
    “Working on it, sister.”
    “Enough about my bullshit. Talk,” she orders.
    I start with a deep breath. “How much detail do you want?”
    Her look is pointed. “Do you even need to ask that question? I want all of it.”
    Pushing back from my food, I grab my beer for liquid support. “Okay, well, I met Justin at work on Monday. Yesterday. He works for the company that manages all of our IT and hardware stuff—printers and whatnot. I was trying to fix the printer that eats all of my stuff when I ripped a lever off of it. He laughed at me, and I was pissed. Later, he found me and apologized.”
    I take a drink from my beer before going on, “So things get a little odd when I see him at the deli where the girls and I had lunch. One of those moments, like, ‘Okay, saw you earlier. Hey there, handsome.’ And then moving on. Then we were at the bar, and you saw how that went. Fast forward to when we left the bar. He brought me home, and I threw myself at him. Something about that unruly hat hair and the smell of his leather jacket…”
    “And that he’s fucking hot, and you were drunk as shit…go on.”
    “Hey, bitch, my story. Yes, he’s hot, and I was drunk. Maybe a little horny. It’s been five years, Kate. Did I ever tell you that?”
    The look that passes over her is nothing short of shock and awe. “How the hell have you gone five years without getting laid? I mean, not even a one-nighter? There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re gorgeous, albeit a little standoffish with men. I can see where it would take a special guy to break through your resting bitch face, but five years? Seriously?”
    I try for a look that says, I will cut you. I think she gets it because she uses her fingers in a zipper motion to indicate that she’ll shut up until I finish.
    Raising my eyebrows, I start again, “Can I finish now? Anyway, as I was saying, I basically jumped him. He was all-too-willing. We ended up in my bed, he was half- stripped. I was out of my jeans, but not my top. When he went to remove my shirt, I freaked out. I pushed him away and started crying.”
    “Why?” she asks, concern etched on her face as her brows pull in to form a crease between her eyes.
    I sigh. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” I shake my head. “This part I need to show you.” I stand from the chair and lift the hem of my work blouse to show her my scar. Kate gasps, and comes around to my side of the table for a closer look. She runs her hand over the bubbled up tissue.
    “What the fuck is