BUSSINESS AFFAIR: A BAD BOY OFFICE ROMANCE
Chapter 1
August
I thought I had it figured out, but life had a tendency to be cruel when you least expected it. I had the world by the tail and then the bottom fell out. I was on the fast track to the big office overlooking the city. I was counting the days and then the company filed for bankruptcy.
I stood in front of the building with the other employees completely shocked by this betrayal. There was nothing to indicate anything was wrong. We came in and found the place locked without even a severance package to hold us over for a rainy day. I wanted to punch somebody, but I had my suspicions that the owners had skipped town without a forwarding address.
“August, I’m going to have to depend on my lover until I get back on my feet. He won’t care.” Yvonne was a black-haired temptress and I knew that she would bounce back on her feet quickly.
The cold March wind was a biting reminder spring was still a couple of months away. Old man winter had taken one last shot with a blizzard that dumped almost a foot of snow overnight. I was already depressed and then this happened.
I took off my winter hat and ran my hands through my short blond hair. The white parka was like a warm embrace from a lover. The chill couldn’t penetrate the layers. The scarf around my neck kept the shiver from running down my spine.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ve been meaning to save, but I have this guilty pleasure of buying shoes. I have a sickness. It’s a monkey that I can’t seem to get off my back.” My rent was due and I was depending on my pay check to come through in a pinch.
“I might be able to help you. There is a temp agency I go to when I’m running low on funds. You can’t be picky when the wolves are barking at your door. Your pride is only going to get in the way. I know you had everything mapped out, but these are circumstances beyond your control.” She scribbled the name of the agency on a piece of paper and I stuck it in my pocket. I was hoping that I wasn’t going to have to use it.
“I was an executive living the high life and enjoying the finer things like caviar and expensive meals in fancy restaurants. I had dreams and they are shattered beyond repair. I’m almost 30 and my experience should be able to land me a cushy job. I’ll make some phone calls to other companies who have expressed interest in bringing me aboard.” That was two years ago and my constant decline had left me with egg on my face.
The Chicago winters made it almost impossible to show off my girlish figure. In the office, I was known to be a consummate flirt, but I never made any inclinations about doing anything nasty. It was all a bit of fun to liven up the day and make people smile with this guilt for undressing me with their eyes.
My body was all natural including my prominent assets which entered a room before I did. There was no point in trying to hide them. It didn’t matter what I wore. They had the tendency to bust out of whatever prison I put them in.
“I have it on good authority nobody is hiring at the moment. The economy has made people hold onto the jobs they have like grim death. Nobody wants to take the risk of jumping from the frying pan and into the fire.” I had heard something of the same around the water cooler on Monday mornings.
“I’m sure there are positions available. I just need to make a concentrated effort to look under every rock. I won’t go back to answering phones and getting lunch orders. That is what I did to make ends meet when I was going to college. Eating nothing but pasta can get old in a hurry. I should’ve taken some of my spare time and learned how to cook. I could have saved myself a lot of money by eating in.” I had let time slip through my fingers.
“I hope you’re right, but the inside track goes to friends and family first. I have no doubt the others in the same boat are already reaching out to relatives. I wouldn’t procrastinate. My sister has an antique business, but my sugar daddy is wealthy enough to keep me happy for quite some time.” There was not a moment she didn’t remind me of the old man with one foot on a banana peel and the other one in the grave.
“Your future depends on him kicking the bucket. You only took this job to make him think you weren’t some kind of gold digger. The family has been circling like buzzards waiting for the old man to croak.” She had them eating out of the palm of her hand.
“I play to my strengths. I might have to sleep with him in the same bed, but I don’t have to have sex with him. He doesn’t have the capability of giving me what I want in the bedroom. I turn to his sons jumping from bed to bed. It’s a good thing I love sex. The feeling they give me with one orgasm after another is mind-blowing. You haven’t lived until you find a piece of eye candy young enough to be your son.” I had to give her credit for finding a lucrative position on her back.
The inheritance was going to be in the millions and she was going to reap the rewards by spending her waking hours by his side.
“I need to pound the pavement and knock on some doors. Stay in touch. I would really like to know how things work out for you.” I could already see her wearing designer dresses and picking out jewels to adorn her skin.
I walked away and stopped to look at my reflection in a shop window. I was a comely young blonde ready to take the world by storm. I could see out of the corner of my eye men not the least bit subtle about their intentions. They had my 5’4, 120-pound hard body on their radar. I could bat my eyes and have them tripping over themselves to be with me.
I went to a nearby park and sat down on a bench with my feet covered in snow. I had several prospects, but each phone call was met with the same response. There were no openings, but they would keep my file on hand for any further developments. One told me they had a position available, but it wouldn’t be open for a couple of months.
It wasn’t long before I saw the writing on the wall. I had the piece of paper in my hand and was debating on whether or not I should crumple it up in my fist. It finally dawned on me this was a temporary fix. Two months fielding advances from men feeling that 40-year-old itch wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. I could play defence and keep them from getting too close.
I wasn’t sure what I was going to find, but I certainly didn’t expect to find a line around the block. That was a bit of an exaggeration, but it felt like a losing battle.
I waited impatiently tapping my foot on the ugly green carpeting. The place looked like it was a throwback to a different era. The seventies décor convinced me that they didn’t have the budget to make any changes. The scene outside the window was of the cold and impersonal parking lot. The weather was getting people down and losing my job had made a lasting impression on me.
The woman sitting beside me was rubbing her belly and talking underneath her breath to a child that wasn’t even born yet. I wasn’t comfortable with making friends, but she was the one that took the initiative. I almost jumped out of my skin when she began to speak like we had already been friends for years.
“I’m a struggling actress with several high profile commercials underneath my belt. I lived modestly in Hollywood for the past six months until I got pregnant with a married man’s baby.” Sandra was a bit talkative and it was a good thing that I was a good listener.
“You could have sued him for child support payments. The money you could have gotten would have set you up on easy street. What could possibly compel you to let him off the hook? Does he even know about the baby?” I was trying to fill the time with idle chitchat and give her my unbiased opinion at the same time.
“I love him and I want him to be happy even if it’s not with me. I knew going in the possibility of him staying with his family was bigger than he claimed. I took a chance hoping that he wasn’t going to break my heart. He does know about the child, but he wants nothing to do with it. He already has a growing family. I decided that some distance was the best for the both of us.” I had an extra room and felt this motherly instinct to help.
“I would hope somebody would do this for me. I want you to stay with me for as long as you need. I’m probably going to be home a lot more considering my financial constraints.” She told me of her culinary talents in the kitchen.
“I have this inane ability to make something that is going to melt in your mouth. I can make anything work on a shoestring budget. Gourmet meals have nothing over me. I should have pursued becoming a chef with Michelin stars to my name. Best laid plans.” I knew somebody from the culinary institute down the street.
“I hope you have been taking your vitamins and doing whatever you can to keep yourself healthy for the baby. I have a couple of nieces. They are my sister’s pride and joy. They live in Alaska. I don’t have the heart to impose on them by coming to live with them with my hat in my hand.” I would never live down the disappointment I would see in her eyes.
“We were lucky to find one another. I will be happy to show you the finer points in the art of making food. I’ve never had anybody in the kitchen with me. It will be nice to have somebody to talk to.” She was a wild child with a nose ring and tattoos. I couldn’t see the extent of her ink, but I suspected there was more than what I was seeing.
“I think this might be the start of a beautiful friendship. Don’t make me regret this. I want to come home to find my belongings where I left them. I’ve heard horror stories of roommates leaving for parts unknown and taking everything that wasn’t nailed down along with them. The only thing I ask is for a little respect.” I didn’t want to be blunt, but it was necessary to make sure we knew where we stood with one another.
“My mother would have my head if I even considered doing anything like that. I would live with her, but she hasn’t exactly been accepting of my choices. I don’t want to introduce her to her grandchild until I am in a position to show her that I am doing well.” I was going to judge her food before attempting an introduction to my friend at the culinary institute.
My name was finally called and I felt like I was an intern trying to get ahead.
The woman with her hair in a bun had matronly concern for my predicament. She had a list of possible positions on hand. She shook her head from side to side and tossed each one into a pile.
“Don’t tell anyone, but I do have something that just came in. You are definitely overqualified, but beggars can’t be choosers.” I was expecting a receptionist position, but this was about punching numbers and analyzing the results. A monkey could probably do the job.
“It is better than some of the alternatives. I could be answering phones. I appreciate the opportunity and I will do what I can not to let you down.” She waved her hand dismissively and my seat was being coveted by others looking for gainful employment.
I called the number and they told me that I could start tomorrow morning at 8:00 AM. I breathed a sigh of relief, but now I was going to have to convince my landlord to wait for his rent for a couple of days. It was a good thing I was good for it and not some kind of deadbeat trying to pull the wool over his eyes