• The balls on this guy. Direct, no sugar coating of the situation
I force myself to drink and I cringe as I let out a huge hiccup. This is embarrassing. “Could I have some (hic) water (hic) please?” I ask.
Chris pours me a glass of water and I put my chin to my chest and quickly down it. Works every time.
I tell people to do this all the time and they think I’m crazy. But seriously, it works! I feel bad for babies when they get hiccups. You can’t get them to put their chins to their chest, the poor tots. They just have to soldier on.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to call it an evening,” I say, placing the empty glass of water next to the wine glass.
“But we were just getting to know each other,” Chris says. “I’m giving your magazine a lot of money. I need to know you a lot, lot better,” he says.
I catch something in his voice. He’s not talking about what I think he’s talking about… Is he? I brush the thought off but he places his hand on my thigh. Oh, crap. He IS talking about what I think he’s talking about.
The contract is a big deal. A very big deal. It will make the magazine a lot of money. I stand to gain a heck of a lot as well with the commission structure I set up and that my boss signed off on. If Chris is suggesting sexual favours in exchange, I have slept with a lot less good-looking men than this chiseled, muscular man.
But! Who the heck does he think he is? Why on earth does he think he can get away with treating women this way? If he was shooting his shot and it was in no way tied to the deal, that’s one thing. But quid pro quo? I don’t think so!
Guys like this are hard to figure out. There’s nothing wrong with Chris, physically. He is also smart and has a great personality (or at least I thought he had up until this point), so why not step up to a woman as a gentleman and not try and use your position to force issues?
It reminds me of the story that had millions scratching their heads: Did Bill Cosby really have to drug women to have sex with them? He was Bill Cosby! I’m sure he would have had many women banging down his door if he had wanted them to, how could he not know this?
“I have to go,” I say and I stand up quickly. Thoughts of America’s favourite dad-turned-rapist are not going well with all the wine I’ve had.
“You’re leaving?” Chris asks, surprised.
“Yes, I think we have gotten to know each other pretty well,” I say with a smile.
“I don’t think you understand what I mean,” Chris says, his tone hardening.
“Spell it out for me,” I respond, meeting his eyes. Thankfully my hiccups have cleared, one can’t have a stare down like this with involuntary spasms. You would look comedic.
Faced with a strong woman, even the worst of Chris’ kind backs down. Bullies are just cowards covering up deep-seated insecurities. But he holds his ground. He does it with the confidence of a man who holds all the cards and has dealt them exactly like this a million times before and won.
“This contract will either end up in the garbage or signed and in your hands,” he says. “What you do in the next five minutes to make either of those things happen, is up to you.”
Wow. The balls on this guy. Direct, no sugar coating of the situation. Put out or get out.