Part 32- Slimy paw prints!

I thought it was too good to be true!

Me and Nigel, working together as a team. Fair enough he was acting as creepy as always,-no change there. But nothing more than that.
I had expected him to make the most of how closely we now have to work. I've been waiting for him to accost me in the lift, or rub his sweaty, polyester-covered leg up against mine under the table.

But so far; Nothing. Zip, Zilch. Nada.

Nothing, that is, until today!

He was obviously waiting to catch me off my guard.

Try it on with me? Too obvious! At least until we'd been working together for a few weeks.

So we completed on this massive project we've been putting together pretty much since my promotion. It was a huge feeling of relief and for a second, as we dotted the final 'i''s and crossed the final 't''s, I was so elated that I almost forgot who was sharing the joy with me.

Don't get me wrong: Nigel is great at his job, and credit where it's due, if it weren't for him, I doubt I would have had the slightest clue of how to go about any of it. It's just such a pity that he has to be such a sex-maniacal slime-ball!

There was a burst of excitement and high-fives were exchanged-perfectly acceptable.
Quickly I remembered who's greasy palm I was slapping and composure was resumed. Project over, I stood to gather my belongings and leave for lunch.

And that's when I felt the enormous SLAP on my arse!

I gulped first, in shock, and my brain tried to compute what signal the stinging sensation on my left butt-cheek was sending it.
Had he really just done that?

Surely this was sexual harrasment from the 70's!

I turned around and glared down at his smug mug.

"What do you think you're doing"? I almost spat, although I was trying desperately to sound like a calm, sane person and not some drama queen.
Perhaps I could have been mistaken after all?

"What"? Nigel shrugged, pretending not to know what I was talking about. "Don't be such a prude. I'm only having a little celebration of my own. Besides, I know you're up for it".

I asked him, In as calm a voice as I could muster, what the hell he meant by that?

"Well", he announced, as if he had been thinking about this for a while. "You were all over Donal Dashwood like a rash, so I take it you're well over your husband by now. Fair game, if you ask me. No point letting a hot little body like yours go to waste".

Then he grinned like the Cheshire Cat and slapped my behind once again!

I was gobsmacked! Imagine the bare-faced-cheek of him! Pardon the pun!

"I FANCIED Donal Dashwood" I did spit this time. "And I am Not 'fair game', to you, or anybody else. Pull a stunt like that again and i'll be having a cosy little chat with your wife, you old creep. And if not her, then maybe I'll file an official complaint about you! See how fair the game is then"!

With that I pulled on my jacket and began to stomp authoritatively out of the room, trying to leave with an air of dignity, even after what he had said and done.
But as I was leaving he called out to me:

"Do you really wanna risk loosing this job Ruby? After all, it is your word against mine. And I'll be honest, if I hadn't spoken up so highly for you after that disasterous interview you'd never have gotten this job. You have quite a lot to thank me for lady, and it's about time you started showing me some gratitude"!

His words made me shiver. Honestly, I've never been so shocked!

I said nothing more and left the room, but deep down I was shaking-I haven't stopped yet.

Looks like Nasty Nigel is really living up to his nick-name, and in more ways than one.

What on Earth am I gonna do now?