“You know what, that wasn’t even the worst thing about it,” I went on. “While he was telling me what those men were going to do to me that evening, I glanced around the room and noticed boxes filled with lighting equipment and video cameras. That bastard was going to tape the whole thing. I’d have probably wound up on some porn site if I’d done what he wanted!”
Marge’s face paled. “That’s just unbelievable!”
I was crying now and couldn’t seem to stop. “What gets to me the most is wondering what I did wrong. What did I do to make him want to see me that way? What could I have done differently to save my marriage? I just feel like such a failure.”
She squeezed my hand gently. “Jess, you can’t blame yourself. You didn’t do anything to bring that on, and there was nothing you could have done to prevent it. It was your ex’s problem, not yours.”
“Maybe,” I said, “but I can’t help still feeling that way. In any case, you can understand why I’m not real interested in men right now.”
As I sat there wiping my face, out of the corner of my eye I spotted a man approaching our table with two drinks in his hands. But when he caught sight of the tears running down my cheeks, he made an abrupt about-face and headed back toward the bar.
Marge must have seen him as well because she gave a little laugh. “Well, at least one good thing has come out of this: it looks like you’ve found an effective way to ward off unwanted advances!”
I had to smile at that through my tears.
When we left the tavern, Marge stayed at my side protectively until we reached my car. Then she gave me a big hug and told me, “Hang in there, Jess. It will get better.”
I hoped she was right.
The next couple of weeks at work that spring were crazy as we got closer and closer to Expo. This was a critical event for Magnetadyne. The company would be launching its new line of components at the show, and it was counting on landing major orders. A successful show would set the tone for the whole year; a miscue could have serious consequences.
Compounding the frenzy was the rumor that blazed through the office: that my boss, Mr. Moffatt, was about to announce his retirement. I had my doubts. I’d neither heard nor seen anything from him to indicate that was true.
The second part of the rumor was that either Peter or Scott was going to be picked to succeed Mr. Moffatt as vice president. That really stirred the pot, dividing the office into three camps. There were those in the pro-Scott group who hoped to gain from his promotion. The second group, of course, consisted of those who were loyal to Peter and felt their leader should be picked. The third was the “anyone-but-Scott” group: those who were appalled at Scott’s arrogance and fearful of what life might be like if he were in charge. The result was chaos, with lots of short tempers exacerbated by tight deadlines.
In the middle of all this ado, Mr. Moffatt called me into his office early one afternoon with an urgent request. Scott had given him some pricing information for the Expo to review, and now Mr. Moffatt wanted Scott to see his comments. But when I called Scott’s cellphone I learned that Scott was working from home. He suggested that I bring the materials out to him.
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