Breathless Page 2

type of behavior before and it always meant trouble

  in some fashion.

  "So, Alex, diving in with both feet are we," asked

  Allen from his desk, sending a glance at Francine as

  she bent over to pick up some object too small for

  Alex to see, but necessary for her to pick up and

  allow Allen a glance at her upper thighs. Alex

  sighed softly at the action.

  "I'm trying to. There is a lot more to understand

  than I thought. But I love a challenge. "I'm sure you do," responded Francine, "A helpful

  hint, Alex, you might want to dress down. We

  don't wear too many suits around here.

  "I'll take that into consideration," Alex replied

  acidly.

  Francine sauntered into James' office and closed

  the door. Alex peered around the cubicle wall that

  separated her from Allen to a window that

  connected Allen and James. Alex heard Francine

  giggle as James closed the blinds on the

  window. She had a feeling she knew what was

  going on, but kept her mouth shut and her mind

  open as she continued to rummage through her pile.

  Chapter 2

  Alex had completed an exhausting month at the

  factory. More often than not, she was staying late

  and finishing old projects so that a new one could

  be begun the next day. She had taken all of the

  knowledge that Jeff, James, Larry and Allen were

  able to give her and put it to good use. The offices

  and factory were running a much more smoothly

  and even Francine had to admit that Alex was good.

  James worked late every night, too. It wasn't so

  much that he had work to do, but it gave him an

  excuse to be near Alex. She had refused to give an

  inch in the office romance department and objected

  to his carrying on with Francine even if it was

  silently. Jean had moved out of their house and into her father's and he no longer liked to be there

  alone. It was too big for just him and the dogs and

  he considered selling it more than once.

  Alex had just finished clearing her desk for the last

  time, when the intercom on her phone

  buzzed. She had thought that she was alone in the

  offices because she hadn't heard anyone moving

  around for a while. A glance at her watch told her

  it was past six and her stomach reminded her that

  something more substantial than Pepsi and half a

  sandwich was necessary.

  "This is Alex," she said into the receiver.

  "Hi, can you come in here, please," said the

  voice. It took two seconds for Alex's brain to click

  on the name to go with it. She was still having

  difficulty matching faces, names and voices. Jeff didn't express any concern, though. He knew it

  would take time for her to learn them.

  "Sure, I'll be right in," she replied, then hung up the

  receiver and made her way into James' office.

  James had just finished replacing the receiver and

  calming his nerves, when Alex came in. He had

  come to know her a little better in the past

  month. He was impressed with her work even

  though he only requested a few items here and

  there. His reaction to her when they shook hands

  that first time came as a shock to him, particularly

  on the heels of his pending divorce from

  Jean. When Jean had served him with divorce

  papers, James had admitted to himself that he

  would probably be spending the rest of his life

  alone. He had understood her reasoning behind the request for divorce. Jean had made her point,

  when she had discovered his passion for sampling

  the women in his travels and as much time as he

  had spent at home, Jean was better off for getting

  the divorce.

  "What's up?"

  "Close the door, please," he requested.

  "There's nobody here, James, accept for the second

  shift machine shop. I'd prefer to leave it open,"

  said Alex, remembering the recurring incident that

  took place every day since she arrived. Francine

  emerging from James' office about 20 minutes after

  going in and flushed and a little rumpled. Alex

  hadn't thought about much else since. She had

  indeed felt the tension between her and James

  since they met, but didn't feel comfortable playing office games with him. She would let Francine

  handle that.

  "Is there a particular reason," he queried, lighting

  another cigarette.

  Alex glanced at the ashtray and saw the pink lipstick

  that Francine favored outlining the edge of one.

  "Nope. Just prefer it that way, thank you.

  "Fine. I just wanted to let you know, that I think

  you're doing a fabulous job. I haven't made that

  clear and I'm sorry. How are you doing out there?

  Have enough to do?"

  "Yeah, I'm fairly busy. I found a few things

  confusing, but everyone seems more than willing to

  help me.

  "Any questions about the machine shop?" "Not that I can think of. Are there any goals you

  would like to see met for that area?"

  "A few; would you like to discuss them over dinner,"

  asked James.

  Alex pressed herself further into the back of her

  chair at that question. She had seen the wedding

  ring on James' hand when they met previously, now

  it was removed. Alex heard the rumors of James'

  pending divorce, but with his ongoing liaisons with

  Francine so fresh in her mind, she refused to give in.

  "I can't. I still have some unpacking to do and I

  need to go shopping for some casual

  clothes. Francine keeps pointing out that I'm

  overdressed. James looked slightly abashed at the mention of

  Francine's name. He thought she suspected

  something, if not knew all together. It wasn't

  much of a secret in the plant about Francine and

  James. That didn't help him. James couldn’t

  ignore the deeper desire that caused him to feel

  something for Alex. He had ignored her mention

  of a fiancée on purpose. He still was unsure of his

  emotions which were running the gamut from

  devastation from Jean to love reborn in Alex.

  "Can you detail it in a memo or at least a list and

  leave it on my desk? I really do want to get going,"

  asked Alex as she stood to leave.

  "Yeah, I'll do that," James responded. Alex

  detected the note of rejection in his voice and

  ignored it. She had just walked out of his office and back to her cube to collect her things when she

  heard a noise from the reception area. She

  glanced at James' office wondering if he had heard

  it, but when no movement came from his office, she

  ventured into the reception area.

  Francine had shut off the lights which plunged the

  room in total darkness. Alex was still shaky about

  the layout of the office and stubbed her left foot on

  the copier as she passed it.

  "Dammit," she whispered.

  Suddenly, a hand snaked out of the darkness and

  grabbed Alex's right arm jerking her against a

  hardened chest and belly. Alex let out a small<
br />
  scream that was stifled by a sweaty hand over her

  mouth. "Who are you," whispered a rough voice in her ear

  as the hand moved inches from her mouth for her

  to reply.

  "Alexandra Chambers," she whimpered in a quaky

  voice. Alex tried to be calm. She knew that

  James was still in his office, because she had just

  left him and not heard the door to the plant

  open. Her captor wasn't much taller that she was

  and could feel the scratch from his beard or stubble

  on her neck. Alex could smell the scents of

  aftershave, cigarettes, coffee, sweat and machinery

  oil mingle with the smell of her own fear as her

  assailants breath labored in her ear. His left hand

  clamped her mouth, holding her close to him and

  his right hand roamed freely over her body, feeling

  the softness of her silk blouse and cotton

  skirt. The hand continued to slide down her curves until she felt it catch the hem of her

  skirt. As it was slowly raised, she felt the

  roughness of the knuckles on her naked thigh and a

  cool breeze as the skin was exposed. Alex then

  felt the callused palm of the hand caressing the skin

  underneath. The unknown man inhaled at her

  softness and pulled her closer to him. Alex felt the

  growing hardness at the apex of his thighs and

  prepared to give another scream when the clamped

  hand finally freed her mouth again.

  "Why are you here so late," he said, moving the

  hand from her mouth to her right breast squeezing

  it harshly.

  Alex didn't hesitate and let out an ear shattering

  scream. Abruptly, she was let go and shoved to

  the hard floor in the office. James was putting on his coat to leave, when he

  heard the scream. At first, he thought it was a

  piece of metal straining against one of the machines

  in the shop, but then he recognized that it was

  coming from the direction of the offices.

  "Alex," he whispered and bolted through the door

  into the reception area.

  Alex was sitting on the floor on the verge of tears

  when the lights came on suddenly. James felt his

  stomach clench as the worst thoughts came to

  mind. James knelt in front of her and brushed the

  hair from her eyes with one hand as the other lifted

  her chin up.

  "What happened? Are you okay? Can you get

  up," he asked anxiously. Alex shook her head dumbly and allowed James to

  help her up off the floor of the reception area. He

  led her to one of the chairs that sat in the room and

  retrieved a glass of water from the cooler

  nearby. Alex sipped from the cup with shaking

  hands and sank into the softness of the chair.

  James stood by and watched her tremble from

  whatever had happened. Without touching her,

  James surveyed her for physical injuries and noted

  the tear in her blouse that exposed her right arm

  and the grease stains on her chest. He also caught

  sight of the faint scratches on her outer right thigh.

  "Alex, can you tell me what happened," James

  asked anxiously

  "No. I want to go home," she said. Alex stood up

  and fought to control her balance. James had extended a hand to help her steady herself, but she

  batted it away, "Please, James, I just want to go

  home," she repeated in gulps as she moved to her

  desk on shaky legs, retrieved her keys and purse and left the plant.

  Chapter 3

  Alex sat dumfounded in her car for several minutes

  before starting the engine. Eager to be away from

  the plant, she tore out of the driveway and let her

  car do the driving to her small house not far from

  the plant. Upon arriving, she stumbled in the

  front door dropping the contents of her hands and

  arms onto the couch.

  The house was small, but serviceable, she didn't

  plan on needing more space than just for

  herself. The entrance, where she stood, brought

  her directly into the living room. A doorway on

  the other side of the room led her to the dining

  room, small kitchen and the stairs. Briefly, she

  glanced about her living room with its fancy furniture. Her furniture had gone into storage

  when she moved in with Tad and then brought it

  with her to Ashmore Valley. The overstuffed

  couch, chaise lounge, entertainment unit and table

  set had looked fashionable in her townhouse in

  Springfield, but they looked out of place here.

  As twilight continued to fall outside, still on unsure

  legs, Alex walked to the kitchen and removed a

  bottle of vodka from the cupboard. She quickly

  poured herself two fingers of the Stoli into a rock

  glass and downed it quickly. Alex had never been

  much of a drinker, but found that the alcohol

  calmed her still shaking body. Alex sat down at

  the table in the dining room and poured another

  drink. She drank this glass slower as the alcohol

  moved through her veins. She was still shocked

  and a little more than slightly frightened of the incident at the factory. Alex caught sight of her

  reflection in the reflection of the sliding glass door

  that led from the dining room to the patio in back of

  the house. Her disheveled appearance served as a

  wake up call to reality making her move from the

  table to climb the stairs for a hot bath.

  Alex sat in the tub and scrubbed herself for the

  third time. It seemed no matter how hard she

  scrubbed both her hair and her body she could still

  feel the touch and smell of her assailant. The

  sounds of her attacker's breathing and hard voice

  kept running through her head like some cruel joke

  and she shook her head to stop the noise.

  Exhausted, Alex climbed from the bathtub, wrapped

  herself in a towel and walked across the hall to her

  bedroom. The bedroom looked overwhelmed by

  the large four-poster oak bed that occupied the comer between the windows. Alex had covered it

  with a mauve comforter and throw pillows. Now it

  offered its sympathy to Alex as she crawled into it,

  still damp from her bath, emotionally overwhelmed

  from her attack and sleepy from the

  vodka. Before her eyes closed she remembered

  briefly, the warmth of James' touch and a small

  smile touched her lips.

  James drove himself home at a steady pace trying

  to keep the attack out of his mind. He was

  concerned about her, but hadn't located a home

  number in her file to be able to call and check on

  her. He thought about stopping at Grayson Laird's

  house for a quick beer before going home, but

  thought better of it. Jean would be at the house,

  packing and moving her stuff out. He promised he

  would help her. James pulled his SUV into the driveway and parked

  alongside the U-Haul that Jean backed up to the

  door. As he walked into the house, he glanced

  into the truck and noticed that Jean had been here

  for a while because it was almost full. He also saw

  that Jean'
s father and brother Jay were helping her.

  "Hello," he announced as he walked in the house,

  hoping to attract somebody's attention.

  Jean came down the stairs followed by her father

  and brother who were moving her cedar chest from

  their bedroom. She hesitated briefly but

  continued towards him. "Hi. I didn't think you

  were gonna make it," she said.

  James looked into those eyes that he had fallen in

  love with five years ago; the eyes that were now so

  filled with pain and hatred for him. James attempted to reach out and take one of her hands,

  but she jerked it away. She had made her choice

  and now refused his touch.

  "I'm here. What needs done?"

  "Nothing," she said opening the door and moving

  out of the way so that the cedar chest could be

  loaded onto the truck, "we're finished. That was

  the last piece.

  James had been surprised at how much they had

  gotten on the truck, but didn't realize that Jean had

  been able to finish without him.

  "You're done?"

  "Yeah, you didn't expect us to wait for you to show

  up did you?" "Actually, I thought you and I could sit down and

  talk before you started.

  "Why? What more is there to say?"

  "You can tell me why we can't work this out.”

  "James, I've told you. Your affairs can be followed

  by your passport. You've sampled everything and

  everyone in anyplace you've been. Do you really

  expect me to stay here and play happy homemaker

  while you dally with every beautiful woman you

  see?"

  "Jean, I'm sorry. What about therapy?"

  “Jean, it's time," came a voice from behind Jean.

  James turned his attention to Ray Martin, Jean's

  father. He remembered how upset Ray had been

  when Jean had called him and told him about the impending divorce. Ray had not been supportive

  of the marriage to begin with, and now with James'

  life suffering more scrutiny came further under fire

  from him.

  "Jean," James said reaching for her arm as she

  turned to go.

  "James, let her go," replied her father, "Don't you

  think you've hurt my daughter more than enough?"

  "That was never my intention, Ray and you know

  it. "

  "It doesn't matter now. She's made up her mind,"

  he said with finality and left James standing on the

  porch. James walked back inside and closed the

  door softly. The house had a tomb like feeling. It

  felt strange and foreign without Jean's stuff here in the house. James had deluded himself into