“You like shrimp and grits? I’ve got some left over from last night I could microwave quickly.”I shrugged. “Whatever. If it doesn’t come out...of a can, I probably haven’t had it.”He put several slices of baguette in front of me with a butter dish. “Here, get started on this and I’ll warm you up a bowl.”I fell on the bread hardly bothering to butter it at all. The bowl he put down in front of me was nothing like I’d ever eaten before and was so delicious. While I ate, he talked about his job at. And he was. First week went by without a hitch. He always seemed to compliment me, offer me a smile and a pat on the shoulder. It was nice. I spent my day putting in data, getting rid of old paper spreadsheets. My father had been right easy work.Then it started to change. Mr. Donaldson's pats went from my shoulder to my ass. Sometimes it'd linger, cupping the curve of my butt through my skirts. He'd get right up behind me, pressing himself against me as I'd work through the file cabinets. I. More

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