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Little Something For Something

last update Last Updated: 2020-10-21 03:24:00

SEXUAL HARASSMENT IS PRESENT. READER'S DISCRETION ADVISED. 

S

acha's POV

*Two Weeks Later*

"Sis, I'm hungry," Judy said as she clenched her stomach.

"Oh Judy, I'll get you some crackers."

"I don't want any crackers. I want cereal."

"I couldn't get you any more cereal this time Judy. The money we've got remaining is all the money we have right now. We can't waste it so have some crackers with jelly and Kool-aid."

A look of disappointment formed on her face and I was certain I saw a tear fell.

I rested my head on the table and let out an exhausted sigh. I hated that I could no longer provide the things my little sister wanted, especially her favorite cereal.

 

A knock came to the door suddenly and I rose. I crept to the door and looked through the peephole.

I had been ducking and dodging my landlord for two weeks now and I was hoping it wasn't him at the door demanding his money. 

It was my best friend Remy.

 I opened the door slowly to let her in.

"Well, thanks for avoiding me for two weeks!" she began as she tossed her handbag down on the couch.

"I'm so sorry. I've been busy trying to find another job."

 "Oh!"

"I know that's a poor excuse but..."

"Hey, it's not a poor excuse. I actually came over to tell you about this job position I've heard of. I saw it on a Facebook page. The company is looking for a receptionist and you'll  be perfect for that position."

"REALLY? That's great news! I need to get there as soon as possible. Can you get Judy ready?"

"Of course but you owe me big time!" 

I was ready and out the door in less than twenty minutes. Remy texted me the address when I got on a bus. I was extremely grateful for her. 

I had bought tons of newspaper, hoping to find a job article in the classified sections but nothing . Agonizing the whole situation, I called my best friend Remy, in high hopes that she would have heard or know about a job vacancy and she did.

Twenty minutes later, I arrived at a ten story building at Downtown Los Angeles. I walked through the building's entrance and I found a gloomy face front desk clerk typing rapidly in a computer. 

"Excuse me, good morning. I'm here for an interview. I saw an ad on..." She didn't let me finish,

"Eight floor," she said without taking her eyes off the computer. 

I made my way to the elevator and got carried up to the eight floor. Getting out the elevator, someone rushed passed me and knocked my handbag off my shoulder. 

"Watch it lady!" he rudely shouted.

'How should I watch it when you bumped into me and instead of saying sorry or picking up the bag, you're telling me to watch it!" I wanted to yell at him but I held my tongue. 

"Two rude persons so far," I mumbled as I walked up to an empty desk. "So that's why they're in need of a receptionist, there's no one here."

I looked around. I was the only person in sight but there was a door to the right of me. I knocked and waited then knocked again. 

"Come in!" I heard a voice commanded. 

I turned on the door's handle and walked into the room. There was an old man sitting behind a desk. He looked like he was in his early seventies. His desk was covered in stacks of paper but he seemed not bothered by it. His silver eyes met me. 

"Yes?" he asked. 

"Good morning sir, my name is Sacha Rish and I'm here to be interviewed for the receptionist position you posted on your Facebook page two days ago."

"Oh yeah," he answered with a laugh. 

'What was so funny about that?' I wanted to ask him but again, I held my tongue. 

"Have a seat Miss. Rish. Come. Tell me about yourself."

I walked over and sat down in a tiny chair. It was hot and uncomfortable in his office and I gazed around to see if he had an air conditioning unit or a fan. He had nothing. 

' Would it always be like this?' Again I asked myself. 

"Miss. Rish?"

"Yes Sir?"

"Tell me about you."

"Of course. I'm twenty-one years of age and I previously worked for a telecommunication company before getting laid off. I'm a compassionate person and when I put my mind to something, I will accomplish it. I'm reliable, diligent and professional."

"

Wonderful. Why do you want this job and what are you willing to do for it?" 

"I want this job because I think I can contribute ideas and visions to make your organisation even bigger and better and I'm not quite sure what you meant by the second question, Sir," I answered. 

He cynically laughed again. 

"What I meant was, are you willing to go the extra mile," he replied. 

"It depends on what I'm going that extra mile for."

"Oh. Allow me to show you then."

He rose from his seat slowly. He had a huge beer belly. He wobbled around his desk and came to stand behind me. 

And then the unthinkable happened. He ran his hands through my thick hair then held onto my shoulders.

I froze but when his hands tried reaching for my breasts, I shot up from my seat. 

"What are you doing?!" I asked with a shout. 

"To get this job, I have to get with you," he answered. 

"No! Get your old ass away from me!"

 

"Come here sweetheart! Big daddy wants you to be a 'professional'. Stay still!"

With unbelievable strength, he launched at me and cornered me against his messy desk.

I screamed as he raised my skirt but he placed his other hand over my mouth and attempted to kiss my neck. His wet tongue made my skin crawled and I used my given courage and kneed him right in his private area. 

He hunched over in pain, holding himself with both hands and I used that opportunity to hit him with his desk phone over his head.

He fell like a sack of potatoes and I ran for the door. 

I ran for the elevator, streaming tears on my face. I ran out the building and for a bus to head back home. 

Remy was still at my apartment but Judy had left for school. 

"What happened, did you get the job?" Remy asked as I came through the door.

 

"I don't ever want to go back there."

"

Why, what happened?"

"The manager tried to force me to have sex with him."

"WHAT? But he's like seventy three years old!" 

I nodded my head yes. Remy retrieved her cellphone.

 

"Who are you calling?" 

"The cops. That bastard tried to rape you Sacha." 


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