I was working in Los Angeles as a bookkeeper for a small entertainment agency. My boss was the owner of the agency, he hired me when I was a couple of years out of college. I had a business degree and had studied accounting and I did bookkeeping for the agency. He said that he would train me and although the salary was modest, there was a great deal of opportunity for advancement if I worked hard and stayed with the agency for a few years. I had attended private Catholic schools as a child, and then Cal State Northridge, where I received a business degree, and worked at a tax preparing firm which I hated for two years after that. I was living alone, kind of a workaholic, dedicated to my job and doing the best I could. I was raised Catholic, and my parent were quiet strict and conservative, but I knew they wanted to best for me.
My boss at the agency was a middle-aged man with a slight paunch, and kind and funny, and I liked him. He had three school-aged kids and a wife who stayed at home with the children and did volunteer work. They lived in a large home up in the hills above LA, and seemed to be happy enough. He was a top agent, and had a reputation of being very fair and honest, and had a small roster of well-known clients that were very grateful for his services.
It was a small office, other than my boss, there were only two other employees in the office, an office manager and my boss's assistant, but they were the best of friends and kept mostly to themselves.
Because we worked in the entertainment industry, we were expected to be discreet and professional with the actors and celebrities and their handlers and managers. For the most part, we were, but sometimes it was hard because you would see and hear some amazing things, but we all knew we could loose our jobs if we breathed a word of it to anyone. Once in awhile you would hear of an agency employee who got fired for leaking a story to the tabloids for a ton of money, and we all thought that was so unprofessional and disgusting. We had to all sign confidentiality agreements and we were expected to behave with the utmost discretion and professionalism at all times.
I was working there for a couple of months when my boss asked if I would like to take on some overtime, we were backed up with all the things screwed up after the writer's strike was over. I said sure and he said OK just come in Saturday at 9:00. He also said I could wear jeans if I wanted to, since there would likely be no one else around the office then.
When I got to the office that Saturday, I was surprised to see him in jeans and casual shirt. He looked different, younger, and was much more relaxed, as he usually wore a business suit and tie to work. We worked together quietly for the morning, and then he said would I like to go to lunch. I said sure and we went to a local diner and had a very nice meal. When we got back, there was more work to do, and we worked together until about 5:00, and then he said did I want to get a drink. I was living in a studio apartment and had no boyfriend at the time, so I said sure. I thought it was kind of odd of him, but wanted to keep my boss happy, so we went out to a quiet bar and sat and had a few drinks. When we were sitting in the dimly lit restaurant, he looked at me as if for the first time. He said I was a very good employee but I should dress a little more stylishly and that would help our agency's image. Being in the entertainment industry, looks do count for a lot, and I said I would try.
When we walked back to the office, he asked if he could give me a lift home. I just lived about half a mile away from the office, and I often walked home for the exercise, but I was tired and didn't want to walk as I usually did. I didn't have a car and rode the bus, walked, or rode my bike to save money. I said yes to his ride home and he brought his car around, a black Lexus, and I got in. He drove me to my apartment and then asked if he could come in, there was something else he wanted to discuss with me. I said sure, I knew him quite well by then and trusted him completely, and thought nothing of having him come up to my studio.
When we got inside, he asked for another drink. I only had one bottle of scotch on hand, and some beer, and he said he would like a scotch with ice. I got it for him and then sat on my bed. Since I had a studio, there was only room for a bed and a small sofa, he was on the sofa and I was on the bed. He drank his scotch and then asked for another one. I thought that was kind of odd, but obliged him, never thinking about it. He drank the second scotch and then came over and sat next to me on the bed. I thought this was kind of strange, but I liked him and didn't say anything. He said Violet, you know you are a very hard worker and do a very good job, but you dress too plainly, you need to wear more attractive clothes and more makeup, after all this is LA. He also said if I needed some money to get some clothes, he would give it to me. I was surprised, but flattered by his attention. I could feel myself blushing, too, and then he reached over and kissed me, very deeply and passionately. I didn't know what to do, but just accepted his kiss. I didn't want to make a scene and loose my job, but was perplexed as he was married and I thought happily. He continued to kiss me for some time, and then after a time he got his things and left.
