*This is a story in three parts that will only makes sense if read in order.
*This is Part 1
*
My name is Susan, and this is a story that you probably haven't heard before. They say that revenge is a dish best served cold, but I found out that revenge is actually best served naked. Allow me to explain.
I'm 5'10'', about 155lbs, 36-28-36 with natural C-cups. Most women who see me hate me because of my body, while most men can't pay attention to a word I say. You might think having the body of a Victoria secret model is a great thing (actually, most models are B-cups), but it isn't easy. I know none of you will have pity on me, but it is very difficult for me to lead a normal life.
I pride myself on my brains more than my looks, since I earned one and was born with the other (though my work-out schedule kind of means I earned them both). But every time I get promoted at work (usually by male bosses), everyone whispers that it is because I'm sleeping my way to the top, or that top management just wants a pretty face in the staff meetings. Eventually, none of my people respect or listen to me, and I have to change jobs.
I dress as modestly as I can, but it's not like I can wear bulky sweaters when it is 80 outside (I live in California), and burlap sacks aren't in style. And even with my modest attire, dating becomes extremely difficult. I work too many hours to meet guys socially, so I usually end up going on blind dates that my friends hook me up with. And of course they show the guy a picture they took of me at the beach or with me in a bride's maid dress that they had picked out for their weddings, so my date is always looking at my body while I try to talk to him about sports.
I had finally met a good guy at my last job, but blew it . . . literally. I work in finance, with a specialty in helping smaller companies go public and then ensuring their stock goes up by working close with sales and marketing. I was on a team with this nice guy from marketing, and we fooled around a bit on road trips once we got a few drinks in us. He had the ability to look me in the eyes, which few guys did.
But in the end, it was the eye contact that did us in. We were at work in the kitchen getting coffee and our eyes met. Something clicked and we quickly went to one of the private bathrooms around the corner. I was giving him a blow job when (because we forgot to lock the door) his boss walked in.
We were both fired that day (of course) and it sent me in search of a job. It also left me with a quandary as to what to do with my resume. I had worked at that company for 4 years, and should have had a lot of good references, but if any prospective employer called them, they would get quite a story that would keep me from getting hired. But by not putting it on, I had a 4-year gap. Still, I thought it was the better option.
My search for a new job involved me combing the stock market for local small companies that appeared to be underperforming. That is where I found Brough Tech. It was small video game designer that worked on contract. They were constantly innovating new ways to render graphics and customizable story lines, but since they only worked on contract, their name wasn't on the final game. Still they held patents on all their new innovations, and won dozens of lawsuits every year from people trying to steal their work. But no one had ever heard of them.
I scheduled a meeting with their marketing manager and impressed him with my claim to be able to double their stock by the end of next year. I said they could fire me if I didn't. I met with their accounting department and likewise impressed them. I explained the 4-year gap in my resume by saying that I had took time off, supporting myself by playing the stock market, but when I saw this company, I had to look into it. It was a lie, but they ate up the flattery.
They were ready to give me the job right there, but my position would be reporting to the president, and he was out for the next month. He was definitely a man I wanted to meet. He was the reason the company was so successful. The few press releases I read on the company talked about his negotiation skills with the Japanese game makers and his multiple appearances in court for their lawsuits.
The remaining staff at Brough Tech dragged their feet for a while, but when they found out that Jim Brough had his trip extended and was now headed to Asia, they caved and offered me a job. I drove a hard bargain though, securing major incentives based on the company's stock performance.
My first few days were actually fun. I introduced myself around to everyone and was impressed with the employees. The company was 80% male, which would usually be a problem, but since they were almost all nerds with four computer screens going at once at their stations, they had little time to worry about me. In my experience guys like that never gave me problems because they were either not interested in girls or only interested in digital girls. Or they just didn't know how to talk to an attractive female.
There were programmers, testers, and investigators. The third group played competitor video games trying to find instances in those games where Brough Tech's patented code might have been used. They got paid a lot of money to play video games all day, and since they kept finding infringements on Brough Tech's patents, and kept raking in lawsuit money, Jim Brough kept that portion of the company very happy.
Whenever I talked to anyone about the elusive president, I always got a cold shoulder. On paper he looked like a great leader and very generous. They didn't balk at my salary request, which I had expected to be negotiated down, so I could only assume it was a common salary. The environment was very good. Dress was extremely casual. Most of the people played games all day, and those that had to crunch numbers, always came up with good results.
I finally met my confidant in the legal department. They had two full time lawyers on the payroll. One veteran to handle all of the litigation, and a 30-something up and coming lawyer to handle most of the paperwork. The younger one, Terry, was a handsome single guy who was always talking about his softball team or waiting for basketball to start or some other sport. When I mentioned racquetball, he let me know he played, and three days later left work a little early to the local gym, and I beat him 3 out of 5.
I had worn conservative gym clothes: loose shorts down to mid thigh and a lose t-shirt, but I was still used to guys staring at me when I bared any skin. He definitely watched me quite a bit in the first two games, but his eyes followed my racquet in an effort to judge my skill.
"So tell me," I started when the first round of light beers came in the bar attached to the gym, "what's the deal with the president of this company?"
We hadn't showered yet, and sweat still dripped slowly from his forehead. I watched it roll slowly down his nose and then finally drop into his lap. He didn't flinch at the question. We sat there staring at each other, for almost a minute before he finally said something. "Okay, you'll find out eventually, it's just you didn't hear about it from me."
My ears perked up at this.
"The man is a pig. He is a sexually obsessed man. His trips to Asia bring tons of money to this company, which is good, because his expense reports shell out thousands of dollars to hookers in Hong Kong and Tokyo."
"He isn't the first person to lie on his expense reports about things like that."
"Who said he's lying," Terry responded, taking a sip of his beer. "He puts it under entertainment. No receipts."
"You don't work in accounting, how do you know?" I challenged him.
"You're not the only person I've had drinks with," he replied.
I thought for a moment I might have competition for him (assuming I wanted him), but I couldn't imagine any of the older women in accounting being his type. I ignored this for now and focused on my main concern. "So he likes to have fun when he is out of the country. It's legal there, what's the problem."
"You don't understand," Terry argued. "He spends half his time thinking about computer code, and the other half of his time thinking about sex. But he doesn't just think about it, he acts on it. All the time. We have all seen him escort hot women in skimpy business outfits into is office for an hour long meeting and then later say that it was a potential customer."
"This is a male dominated business," I argued. "Companies that know what their doing hire hot saleswomen."
"And do these hot sales women request 200 bucks from you after making their sales pitch?"
"Not typically," I admitted.
"We have had five or six women quit in the last two years because of sexual harassment charges. Jim is way too legally smart to ever get hit with them, and he usually settles out of court anyway. That is why the accounting department is filled with ugly old women. He's chased away everyone else."
I thought about this for a while. I was not going to be chased away. Jim Brough was going to have to be an integral part of my plan to double the company's stock, and I would have to work closely with him. If he was as big a pussy hound as Terry made him out to be, I would just have to include other people in the meetings I had with him.
"When he lays eyes on you," Terry continued, "he is going to come on to you harder than anything you've ever experienced, and -- don't take this the wrong way -- but I imagine you have a lot of experience with guys coming on to you."
"I will keep things strictly professional," I told him.
"From the little I've seen of you so far, I have no doubt of that, but I bet you dinner downtown that he will in some way suggest an intimate encounter between you two during your first private meeting together."
I had just thought to myself that I would not have any private meetings with the president, but if dinner was at stake . . . "Okay, you're on, but I get to pick the place."
"The winner picks the place," Terry qualified.
"That's what I said," I smiled, toasted my bottle toward him, and took a long swig.
***
Jim Brough was back in the next Monday. I walked into his office a bit tentatively. He didn't see me right away as he was reading something on his computer. If he was like anyone else in the business world, he had 1,000 emails to go through since he was out of the office. I cleared my throat, and he looked up. Seeing who it was, he smiled pleasantly.
"You must be Susan," he said, rising from behind his desk and walking around to shake my hand. His eyes never waivered from mine, and gave no indication that he was checking me out. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner to interview you, but if you don't mind I'd like to get to know you. Please take a seat."
He motioned to one of the two chairs in front of his desk and then moved to close the door behind me. It appeared to be an innocent enough gesture. He was simply assuring our privacy since we were going to probably talk about my work history and salary. But with Terry's warning in my head, I couldn't help but think he was protecting against more.
It was a large office, and Jim was a large man. He was maybe an inch shorter than me and a good 75 pounds heavier, easily coming in at 225. He carried most of it right above the waist, but his arms and legs looked pretty big too. He was in no way muscular, as it was the muscle in his head that made most of his money for him. And if he enjoyed using the muscle between his legs as much as Terry assumed, he probably had to pay for most of it. I knew I wouldn't touch him willingly.
I sat down in one of the chairs before his desk just as Jim took his seat. "I looked at your resume," he started, pulling a sheet of paper from a vertical file on his clean desk. "Very impressive. I have only one question: What have you been doing for the past 4 years?" Jim looked up from his paper at me and fixed me with a gaze that said, I will know if you are lying.
I lied anyway.
"I took some time off. I spent a lot of time trading on my own, and that is when I found your stock and saw a lot of potential there."
