Chapter 9: Patrick
Daisy was officially the only thing occupying my mind. Every time I thought about the sex we had, I got as hard as granite. Which meant my hand spent a lot of quality time with my dick over the weekend. It might have been a bit chafed from the amount of jerking off I did.
I couldn’t believe I came in her without a condom. I was so caught up in the moment that I just slipped right in without even thinking about it. Was it stupid? Absolutely. Was it amazing? Abso-fucking-lutely. Daisy was a very judgmental person, and I had no doubt she was on birth control. But worst-case scenario, my mom would get the grandkid she’d been bugging me about.
And I knew I was going to do it again if she’d let me. I loved how she felt—so wet and tight. I had thought the blow job she’d given me was the best orgasm I had ever had. But when she had spasmed around me as I came inside of her, it beat it by a mile.
After we had finished, we spent an hour talking. We both worked in business-related careers—neither of us specified which field, though. We were both hesitant to talk about ourselves, no matter how miniscule the chance we knew each other.
She asked me why I chose Major as a codename. In high school, I was so good at baseball that they thought I would make it to the major leagues. A torn rotator cuff injury quickly cut that dream short. She had nicknamed herself after her favorite flowers—daisies.
But I needed to figure out a way to push her out for eight hours now that the work week had started. How badly I wanted to fuck her again couldn’t be the only thing on my mind, or I’d get nothing done. I’d also be walking around with a massive hard on, something I hadn’t done since middle school.
I stabbed the door to the elevator, trying to think of things that would get me soft. The Pope naked. Kittens rolling around in balls of yarn. Neither of the two worked. I’ll start counting backward from 100. 99, 98, 97—the elevator dinged, letting me know it was ready.
Just as I was about to press the door shut button, I saw the accounting manager running for the elevator. I held my arm between the doors to let her in.
“Thank you,” she said.
When I spoke with most people, I talked in a more self-assured tone. I called it my “professional voice.” I preferred to be lax with talking, but I had my charming reputation to uphold. I quickly switched to the persona. “Not a problem.”
“I’ve never run late before,” she muttered, smoothing her skirt.
“It’s only 8:55.”
“I’m always here at least twenty minutes early.” She said it as if it was the most normal thing on earth.
She would be the type to think something like that. I hadn’t officially met her, but from the one interaction we’d had, I could tell she was not the laid-back type. I extended my hand. “Patrick Reinhardt. I’m the new VP of Marketing.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Reinhardt. I’m Natalie Lane.”
She would be the one for formalities. “Call me Patrick.”
“Okay.”
There was a pause between us. “So, you’re the accounting manager, right?” I asked.
“Um, yes. How did you know?”
If this were a small company, it would be obvious. But this place had over ten thousand employees. “Well, I walk through your department every day. And you shot me a look that could kill a few days ago.”
“Oh, right. Sorry about that.” Most people would be embarrassed, but she appeared unperturbed.
A bright ding signaled the opening of the elevator doors. I extended my arm, signaling her to go first.
“How’s my favorite Ice Queen today?” A man’s voice asked her.
I stifled a laugh as I walked out behind her. So, she had a reputation for being cold.
She shot the same glare at him she had given me a few days ago. “Don’t call me that, Donovan.”
“Goodbye, Ice Queen,” I teased. Her face turned bright red as I walked away from her.
I snickered to myself as I headed towards the marketing department. She might have a reputation for being cold, but the fact she didn’t chew me or the other guy out told me she wasn’t that bad.
As usual, I tiptoed through the accounting department. My coworkers had no problem tromping through here talking on the phone or chatting with one another, but I found it very rude.
Most of the team had already shown up for the day. I probably should have been following the Ice Queen’s example by getting here before nine—I was the VP. But I was only paid between the hours of nine to five, so I’d stick to that.
“Ah, Patrick!” Dave waved his hand from his desk.
“What’s up?” I walked over and leaned against his cubicle.
“Well, I just wanted to go over what you gave me in depth.”
“Alright.”
“So, this is what you proposed.” Dave brought up a detailed diagram of the marketing campaign that had been divided into subsections, and addressed each piece. The guy got on my nerves, but he was a damn good employee. “Anyways, what I’m trying to say is that it’s awesome, but your budget isn’t aligned correctly.”
My stomach sank. Based on everything he had just said, he was absolutely correct. “Can you email that to me?”
“Sure.”
“I appreciate you letting me know.”
My legs had turned into lead weights as I moved towards my office. This was bad. Like really, really bad. I was new here, so I had to perform well. There was no room for mistakes. I also had a higher chance of being fired because I had no rapport with the company.
I compared Dave’s diagram to my files. He had been right. I needed about thirty percent more than I requested. Thirty fucking percent.
I slowly began to inhale and exhale, attempting to calm myself. It would do no good to panic—I needed to search for a solution. The first thing was to talk to Bert. I didn’t see that being a problem; he’d said this was the best campaign he’d seen in years. But I couldn’t just ask the Chief Marketing Officer. I would also have to ask Julie, the Chief Financial Officer. Julie and I hadn’t met yet, so I had no idea if she was as friendly as Bert.
This was something that had to be addressed immediately. I’d see Bert right now and see what he had to say about it. All the higher up offices were on the opposite side of the floor, nestled where there was a small chance they would be disturbed. The size of this building would make it a hike.
I passed Natalie’s office on the way. She had her head down, scribbling on a document. If I hadn’t called her Ice Queen this morning, I would have asked her how Julie’s temperament was. Too late to take it back, I guess.
Finally, I reached Bert’s office. I knocked on the door in sync with my pounding heartbeat.
“Come in,” he called.
“Bert.” I greeted him and examined his office. “It’s like a palace in here.” I tried to lighten the mood before I brought up the subject.
He laughed as he set down what he was working on. “A decade more of work and you’ll get your own palace.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for.” I pulled a chair and sat down. “I actually need to talk to you about something.”
“Shoot.”
“It’s about the budget for the campaign. To get everything planned, we’re going to need an increase.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Oh really? How much?”
I did my best not to flinch as I told him the amount.
He paused. “Well, it’s fine with me, obviously. You just have to work it out with Julie. But I’d suggest not asking this week, she’s still swamped with acquisition things.”
“Good to know,” I murmured.
The door clicked behind me as I left. My feelings of despair still lingered, but there was a glimmer of hope that I would get this fixed.
* * *
I attended my first monthly management meeting in the afternoon. Every third Tuesday, all of upper management met in the largest conference room and updated the other departments on their progress. This would be my first time meeting management from other departments, other than Natalie. While others chatted amongst themselves, The Ice Queen sat quietly and prepared her papers.
It was strange how proper she was. The way she spoke, her conservative method of dressing, even the rigidness of her walk. Her shoulder length hair didn’t have one split end and was always held back by a headband.
What she was like in bed popped into my head again. I was leaning towards conservative after our conversation. But there was always that small chance she could be a freak. It wasn’t as if it mattered, though. Along with my principle of never sleeping with a coworker, I had Daisy.
The meeting began, and it was boring, just as I had assumed it would be. When the topic of the marketing department was reached, I lightly touched on the campaign. It didn’t affect the other departments too much, and they probably didn’t care.
Natalie started her presentation, and all hell broke loose.
“That’s just idiotic,” said Jim, the finance manager. His face was naturally red, but his anger at Natalie had it resembling a firetruck.
“No, it’s not.” She was expressionless as she stared back at him.
The two began to debate in front of all management. I wish I had understood what they were talking about, but finance and accounting were the classes I had done the worst in. I vaguely remember financial ratios and T-accounts, but after that I was lost.
Natalie kept her voice steady their entire argument, while Jim’s rose each time she provided supporting evidence. Although I didn’t understand what they were talking about, I did know she was winning. Neither of the two backed down, so the other man from finance broke them up.
“You’re such a bitch, Natalie,” Jim spat.
Holy shit. Did he really just say that in front of all of upper management?
Natalie seemed as if she was about to say something but changed her mind. It was a shame—I would have loved to hear how the Ice Queen would insult people. But she was too logical to say something that may get her in trouble.
“Let’s end here, yeah?” the production manager quipped.
There were nods and murmurs of agreement, and people began to file out. Everybody wanted to escape the awkward tension of what had just happened. The Ice Queen was packing her things, not leaving with the rest of the crowd. Maybe I should see if she’s okay.
“Natalie.” I figured it would be better to greet her by her actual name after what just happened.
“Yes?”
“Are you okay?”
“Is there a reason I wouldn’t be?” She didn’t glare at me like before, but the look in her eyes was still stone-cold.
“Well, you just got called a bitch in front of a room full of people.”
“So?”
“So, most people wouldn’t enjoy that.”
“It doesn’t bother me.” She finished putting her papers in her bag. “Can I help you with anything else?”
“No, that’s it.”
“Fine. Goodbye, then.” She walked out of the room, her high heels clicking on the tile floor.
Maybe she really was the Ice Queen.