A WOMAN’S PLACE

A rash rose from Pinky’s collar. After what he’d done to Larry, he was the last person Carmen wanted to defend, but she also knew how it felt to be the butt of newsroom jokes and couldn’t help taking on his embarrassment as her own. 

The elevator was slow to return. She rocked on her toes and sneaked a peek at Pinky’s profile. True, he could stand a lesson or two in refinement, but he wasn’t a bad-looking guy. His dull brown pork pie hat hid waves of ginger-colored hair that were actually quite striking. Green eyes, straight teeth and a smile that was halfway decent when he wasn’t leering. 

“It was rude,” she said, “letting the door slide shut on you like that. Just ignore Norm. Ignore what Ted said, too. About the Dairy Queen, I mean.”

Pinky snorted. “You g-g-givin’ me advice?”

“No. I just know what it’s like to be made fun of.” 

The elevator arrived and she followed Pinky in, putting as much space between them as possible. She focused on a smudge on the ceiling. Looked like felt marker, but how did it get all the way up—

The blow to her cheek came fast and hard. Suddenly, she was pinned in the corner, Pinky’s breath hot in her face. “Any help I need from you, Miss Henderson, I’ll take.” He thrust one hand up her skirt and crushed her breast with the other. “Got that?”

The shock scrambled her brain. She wanted to push him away but all she could do was stare.

One hand moved from her breast to her jaw, the squeeze so cruel it brought tears to her eyes. “I said, have you got that?” His stutter was gone, the effect chilling. 

Seeming to take her gulp as agreement, Pinky scooped his hat off the floor and brushed the brim, then brought his lips to her ear. 

“Who’s the chihuahua now?”

The elevator opened and he breezed through the crush of typing pool girls waiting to board, cool as you please. Carmen slunk after, shame-faced, and scurried to the ladies' room, small steps, thighs together, to keep what Momma called her treasure secure.