The gold pen flickered in the harsh light as he rolled it across his fingers. “I'm moving you to the warehouse.” Trent smiled cruelly at her, the gap in his front teeth marring his otherwise perfect features. “Maybe over there you won't cause so much trouble.”

Her face grew hot with indignation. Trouble?

The only trouble she'd caused was telling Mr. Gaptooth to keep his paws off her backside. She'd made it clear his advances were unwelcome. When he'd failed to listen, she'd complained to HR. Unfortunately, OBW wasn't the most enlightened company, despite almost eighteen years since the Clarence Thomas hearings.

“I'm a line supervisor, and I won't take a demotion just because you can't control yourself, Trent.”

Ginny enjoyed watching his mouth drop open. For a few seconds, she'd actually rendered him speechless.

He stood up, his tan face turning red, the vein in at his temple throbbing. He leaned across his desk and pointed at her. “You can either move to the warehouse, or you're fired.”

A month ago, that threat would have scared her. A month ago, she'd been struggling to support herself and her two kids in one of the most expensive cities in the country. A month ago, she hadn't lined up a job as plant manager for OBW's largest competitor.

“You forgot one option, Trent,” Ginny said as she lay the neatly typed letter on his messy desk. “I quit.”