Tainted Roses

SERENA For the first time in a long while, I allow myself to believe that things might finally be getting better but it's a dangerous thing to have, hope. Because once you let yourself have it, losing it hurts twice as much. So I stare at my reflection in the mirror, adjusting the small diamond earrings Darcy insisted I wear. "You're doing that thing again." She says from behind me. I look over my shoulder and give her that weird smile of mine that always makes her laugh. "What thing?" I ask her "The thing where you pretend you don't care about something you obviously care about." I smile despite myself knowing that Darcy has always been too good at seeing through me. "I'm just going to dinner." She raises an eyebrow and frowns. "With senior executives from F.U.I. after you secured one of the biggest contracts the company has seen this year." I shrug not because it's nothing but because well, it wouldn't be a big deal if they'd just trusted me from the beginning. "When you say it like that, it sounds like a bigger deal." "Because it is a big deal, Serena.” I turn back to the mirror and think that maybe she's right, maybe it's a big deal. For four years, I've worked at F.U.I. believing that eventually someone would notice more than just my appearance. Sitting in meetings where people addressed the room instead of me even when I was the one who prepared the entire presentation. I have watched others receive opportunities because they were louder, more connected, or simply more convenient. But I never stopped working or proving myself and tonight feels like a reward. The restaurant is exactly the kind of place I would normally walk past and assume was meant for people unlike me. It has soft lighting, elegant furniture and waiters who move quietly as if making noise is against the rules. Everything about the restaurant feels expensive, important. So, I smooth my dress once before walking inside. The moment I enter, I notice the familiar feeling; eyes on me, the unwanted attention. It has always been that way. People noticing my appearance first. But tonight, I don't care because tonight, they are also going to know my name. Serena Wilson. "Serena." I turn as one of the executives waves me over. A smile appearing on my face as I approach the table. "Congratulations again," he says. "That presentation was impressive." "Thank you Sir." And for once, I don't wonder if the compliment comes with a hidden meaning. I just let myself accept it. The evening starts exactly how I imagined it would; conversations about business, compliments about the contract and questions about my ideas and future plans. I feel like I belong. Like I am finally stepping into the place I have spent years fighting for. And that maybe this is the promotion I have been hoping for. The long awaited beginning of a different future. I laugh at something someone says, relaxing slightly as the evening continues. Then I feel it. I wish I could ignore it but it's firm and strong in it's pursuit for something it's definitely not going to get. A hand. A firm, but greasy palm crawling up my thighs. At first, my mind refuses to understand what is happening but then the smile disappears from my face. My body going still. The conversation around me continues with glasses clicking here and there. And nobody seems to notice. But then they wouldn't since it's happening under the very large table. Nobody knows, it seems. I slowly look around the table, searching for any sign that someone else has seen what happened but no one is looking my way and if they did; they're not saying anything. Somehow, that makes it worse. I force myself to breathe. Thinking that maybe it was a mistake, maybe I misunderstood. I tell myself that because the alternative is admitting that someone I trusted enough to sit across from has just crossed a line I never thought he would. So I say nothing. I head home carrying the strangest feeling. Surprisingly it's not anger. At least not yet. Just confusion it seems. Because a few hours ago, I thought my life was finally changing in a good way. I didn't know it was about to fall apart. ***************************** I don't say anything until I am back in my apartment. But the moment the door closes behind me, the silence feels heavier than usual. I place my bag on the table and stand there for a few seconds, still wearing the dress I had been so excited about earlier. It feels strange now; like it belongs to someone else. Someone who walked into that restaurant believing the night would change her life. Someone who fits my description but doesn't seem to sit right with my current turmoil. I move around my apartment without really knowing what I am doing; taking off my shoes and changing out of the dress before washing my face. Anything to convince myself that if I continue with normal things, then maybe what happened will start to feel less real. It doesn't. My phone sits on the table for several minutes before I finally pick it up. I stare at Darcy's name as I dial it up. I almost don't call but the weight of keeping it to myself feels unbearable. She answers on the third ring and I let out a breathe I didn't know I was holding. "Serena?" I close my eyes at the sound of her voice. "What happened?" She asks like she knows what happened. Or maybe she just knows me too well. For a moment, I consider lying but then I change my mind. "I'm fine." I reply and then there's a pause. "Serena? " I sit on the edge of my bed and tell her everything about the dinner, the contract, the way I thought everything was finally changing. Then I tell her about him. About the touch, the way he acted like he had the right and the way nobody noticed. By the time I finish, there is silence on the other end. But then Darcy speaks and I listen because somehow, she always knows what to say. "Report him." She says slowly like she's contemplating. I swallow. "I can't do that." "Why?" She sounds angry now. "Because he's powerful and I don't have proof." "So?" "So people like him don't fall easily." I say. My voice rising a little. "He is a senior executive, Darcy. He has been with F.U.I. for years. Who do you think they will believe?" My voice lowering. "You." She says sounding too sure. I let out a quiet, bitter laugh. "I wish it was that simple." I really wish it was. Darcy doesn't respond immediately. And I think it's because she knows how things like this get for me. How it makes me feel. And she knows. We both know that without evidence, it becomes my word against his and his word carries more weight. "I just want to forget it," I whisper. "No, you want to pretend it didn't happen." I close my eyes knowing that maybe she's right. But I have spent four years building my career. I cannot risk everything because of something I cannot prove. So I make a choice to I stay quiet. At least for now. *************************** The next morning, I return to F.U.I. like nothing happened. My chin is high up in the air, my gaze ahead. I smile when people congratulate me. Nothing that they're the same people who barely noticed me before but now stop me in the hallway to tell me how impressive the contract was. And for a few hours, I almost convince myself that everything is fine. Almost. Then a colleague of mine walks in and tells me that I've been called into the boardroom. My smile fades but I tell myself it is about the contract, about my future and about the promotion I have been working toward. I walk inside hoping this meeting will be the beginning of something better. Instead, I see him; the executive from the dinner and suddenly, I know that this isn't about my success. It's about him. —----------------------------------------- The moment I see him sitting at the far end of the boardroom table, every hopeful thought I had disappears. Because he is here. The same man who smiled at me across the dinner table yesterday. The same man who acted as if my discomfort was nothing more than a small inconvenience. And for a second, I consider walking out. My hand almost reaches for the door handle. I remind myself that I have done nothing wrong, so I don't storm out. I have nothing to be ashamed of so I take my seat. "Serena," he says, his voice calm and professional. I hate him. I hate how easily he can pretend. "Good morning," I reply. Ensuring not to call him Sir like I did the other night. My voice sounds steadier than I feel. The other people in the room begin discussing the contract and the numbers are mentioned, their expectations and future plans. I force myself to listen and to participate. Because I refuse to let him make me feel small. But the longer the meeting goes on, the more uncomfortable I become. I look in his direction and notice that his attention is no longer on the documents in front of him. It is on me and the way he looks at me makes my skin crawl. I try to ignore it telling myself that once this meeting is over, I can leave; go back to my desk and pretend everything is normal. The meeting soon comes to an end and the others begin leaving. One by one, they gather their things and exit the room. Everyone except him. I gather my things too but still my heartbeat changes. Because I know. I know before he says anything. "Serena." I stop near the door turning slowly. "Yes?" His smile is different now. Not like the one he showed the executives. Not the polished, respectable one everyone knows and something about it makes my stomach tighten. "You know, you have a lot of potential." I don't respond. "Someone like you shouldn't have to work so hard to get noticed." The words sound wrong. Like there is something hidden beneath them. "I appreciate the feedback," I say carefully. "If that is all, I should get back to work." I reach for the door but then he moves. Almost too quickly and my body goes still. "Relax." He says now standing in front of me. That word. One single word that takes me back to a lot of unpleasant memories I'm afraid to relive again. It makes everything inside me scream. Because people who say relax are usually the people who know exactly why you are uncomfortable. I take a step back. "I think this meeting is over." He ignores me and moves closer. Suddenly, the room that felt so important moments ago feels like a trap. I tell him to stop. I tell him no.nI tell him I am not interested, but he doesn't listen. Then the fear comes fast. Not because I am weak but because I understand exactly what is happening. I try to push him away hard. "Get away from me!" I scream out loud not caring if the people outside consider it as noise. Just hoping someone hears. My voice echoes through the room and f0or a moment, everything stops. Then the door opens and people rush in. And I think, finally. Finally, someone will understand, someone will see. But my relief never comes because the first thing I notice is not concern. It's confusion. The questions begin immediately. "What happened?" One asks. "Why were you both alone?" Another asks. "Serena, calm down." One says and the words make something inside me break. I look at him and he looks uncomfortable but not afraid in the way that I am. And somehow, I already know what is happening; the story is changing. "I'm telling you what happened," I say. But my voice comes out smaller than I want it to. Someone sighs, another looks away and one says, "Maybe this has been misunderstood." I look around the room. At the people I worked beside, the ones I thought respected me and I realize they are not looking at me like I am someone who was hurt. They are looking at me like I am a problem they need to solve. Then the whispers begin like; maybe I was trying to get ahead. Maybe I thought this was another way to secure a promotion. Or maybe I misunderstood his intentions. Every word feels like another cut and I stand there, completely numb. Because now I finally understand something and it hurts; The truth is not always enough. Sometimes, people believe the version that protects them. And right now… that version is not mine.