Friday, the week before Thanksgiving, I was busy clearing the pending work from my desk. I was going to get this done by the end of the day if it killed me. My plan was to take a few days off next week combining them with the holidays and it would give me nine straight days out of the office. I would kick back, take some time to sit on my ass, regroup, watch football, and eat turkey sandwiches with no interruptions.
I'm called Don to most people. My mother calls me Donald, I don't like it but what are you going to do? Calling me Donny will get a pissed off response, my ex called me that and it brings bile to my throat. I can still hear Janice's voice, "Donny, don't leave, it's not what it looks like, Donny please let me explain."
It was what it looked like, she was fucking some asshole she worked with in MY bed and she got caught. I thank my lucky stars every day that I found out before we were married. Janice and I were to wed the next week, I walked away and never looked back.
The episode with Janice made me take a hard look at myself. I let her walk all over me, I held Janice on a pedestal. I tried to change the way I was just for her. She changed the way I dressed, we hung out with her friends not mine. She told me time after time I was too nice to people. When any of my friends asked, I was always there for them. She tried to get me to learn the word no, but in my world helping friends was second nature.
What is that old saying? One good turn deserves another. Well, something along that line. Anyway, it comes to mind that if I ever needed anything, my friends would be right there for me. They all owe me for something but I'm not the type to hold it over their head.
At five I had filed the last folder and was rushing out the door with the crowd. It had been a hectic day and I looked forward to a beer at the pub across the street. My friends and I were sitting at the bar and relaxing with a cold one. All in all, life was pretty good.
We played a few racks of eight ball and generally mingled and shot the shit. I was back at the bar when Candy, one of the girls from the sales department walked up with a smile. It always gives me a chill up my spine when a salesman gives me that smile.
Candy and I have known each other since she joined the company about five years ago. I'm the director of human resources and know, or have at least met, all the employees. Candy and I rotate in different circles, but know each other.
How can I describe her?
Tall? Definitely, probably five foot ten at least.
Slim? Yeah, but with curves in strategic alignment. A walking wet dream.
Stylish? Like a model, correct to the last detail.
Beautiful? Out of my league, way out.
Blonde? No way, raven black. Hair loose, down to her wonderful heart shaped ass.
Lesbian? WHAT! Yep, has a girlfriend. She swings from the other side of the plate.
So that's Candy, she's good at her job, real good. She could sell ice cubes to Eskimos. She's always at the top in her division and next in line for the director of sales position.
"Don, have you got a sec? I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute," her voice oozed sex appeal.
Oh shit, here comes the sales pitch.
"Sure Candy, would you like a drink?"
"Yes I love one, beer please," she smiled as she sat down beside me.
Shocker there, I'd have said chardonnay or merlot. I ordered and turned back to see where our conversation was going.
"So what is it you want to talk about?" I queried.
"I have a small problem and I was wondering if you could help?" she wasn't quite so confident now, "I need a husband... well, really a boyfriend," her voice trailed off.
"Ok, I'll bite, what's the joke? What is this, candid camera? Am I being punked?" I asked looking around the room.
"It really is no joke Don. My parents are flying to Hawaii for a vacation and they're stopping here next week to spend a couple of days with me for Thanksgiving. They want to meet my... partner."
I started to get the picture, "And you told them you were living with a man," she was looking down now, afraid to look at my eyes, "Why not just dress Vivian up like a guy?" I said with sarcasm.
"Come on Don, this isn't funny. If my dad found out about me it would kill him, he'd have a freaking stroke," she said.
"Candy, this shit sounds like a bad situation comedy, I keep seeing old I love Lucy reruns here. There is no way this is going to work unless your parents are complete morons. Why don't you just tell them the truth, trust me the truth will set you free," I told her.
"I... I... I just can't," she stuttered.
Tears were forming in the corners of her eyes now. Great, just fucking wonderful, I was in the middle of a snow job and starting to feel like that Eskimo I mentioned earlier. I wish I could cry like women do. I'd walk right in to a new car dealership and bawl my eyes out until they gave me a new Mercedes.
"If I agree and I do mean 'IF', you're going to have to do something for me."
"Anything Don, anything, I would be so grateful," the smile was returning now.
"I want... turkey, and lots of it. Yeah, and no giblets in the gravy, I hate giblets."
Her face lit up like the sun. I think she was expecting me to ask for more, a lot more. Like maybe something really disgusting to her, like sex with a man.
"You won't be sorry Don, I promise," she said giving me a kiss on my forehead.
"I seriously doubt that, I'm already sorry," I said to myself.
As she turned and hurried away I called out, "Candy, no marshmallows on the yams either," she waved back and rushed out the door.
What is that word? It's right on the tip of my tongue... NO... that's it. That's what I should have said. Well, so much for a peaceful lazy week off. That turkey better be good, damned good.
The next morning I was trying to sleep through a hangover. I don't usually get drunk but after Candy left, well you know. It sunk in what kind of screwed up mess I was in for.
I could hear bells ringing, God make them stop please. Shit, I sat up, it was the doorbell. Who the hell could be ruining my day at this hour, it was barely noon.
"Candy? What the hell are you doing here?" Candy was standing on my doorstep with four large suitcases.
"Are you going to ask me in?" she asked.
I stood there in my underwear shading my eyes trying to figure out what the hell was happening. It was too hard, screw it. I left the door open and walked back to my bedroom scratching my ass as I walked.
"Don, I hate to bother you. Where are the cleaning supplies?" Candy whispered.
"Kitchen sink," I grumbled.
Fifteen minutes later, "Don, do you have a broom?"
"Pantry door,"
Five minutes, "Dust pan?"
"Entertainment center."
Two minutes, "Windex?"
"Wall safe, behind the Rembrandt."
It was obvious there would be no peace. I crawled to the bathroom and rummaged through the old prescription bottles and found some old Vicodin the dentist had given me for pain. I took two. Fifteen minutes later I was mowing the lawn, my I-pod was at full volume, and I had a smile that wrapped almost all the way around my head. I laughed to myself about doing yard work in November. That's So-Cal for you, I'm sure we'd have another green Christmas.
Bad things were coming, bad things indeed. Less than a day after talking to Candy, I had a drug and alcohol problem, shit, but my yard looked good. I assumed Candy had come early to get things 'Mommy' clean for her parents visit. I'm no slob, but a bachelor just doesn't clean the same as a woman. I also figured that Candy had moved in. By the size and number of bags she had brought with her, she intended to be here the entire week.
Candy had been a busy girl, the house looked like somebody else lived there. By then, I had sweated the hangover away and the drugs were worn off. I walked into the kitchen to get a bottle of water. Candy was bent at the waist cleaning the refrigerator. Her perfect ass in those short shorts was almost more than I could take right then. Oh Lord, what have I done to deserve this?
A cold shower, that's what I needed right then. I had to get my mind off Candy. Without the bottle of water, I headed for my bedroom. Goddamn, I had been invaded, all of her things were in my room. We would have to talk about this after my shower, I had a hard on to get rid of first.
The water was as cold as I could stand, my body was freezing but my dick was still hard as stone. I changed tactics and turned the tap to hot. I may as well face facts and be comfortable while I stroked my problem away.
I had no more than lathered up when I heard her.
"Don, I'm going to run to the store. Do you need anything while I'm out?" she asked.
I could just make out her outline in the doorway through the opaque glass of the shower, "Yeah, I could use your help with my hard cock. How about you wrap those perfect lips around the head of my dick?" I wanted to say, but didn't.
"No, I don't think so," was what I really said.