We were running behind on the case and as the relevant senior associate it falls upon me to rectify that. I decide that what is needed is a flat-out push to get on top of things. Book an out-of-the-way room on the 12th, bring all of the files and all of the paperwork together up there, knock out a detailed status and a coherent action plan. A morning should do the trick. One 'do not disturb' session, starting early, finish by lunchtime. No problem. Done it before several times. I tell the partner-in-charge, Thompson, what I have in mind and he says sure Mark go for it. Do I need any help? I probably do, I say. Couple of people maybe? I only really need one but two is better. It will mean we easily get it done. He checks something on the system and allocates me Kenneth Drone and Naomi Fernandez. I can have these two for all of tomorrow am. Is that ok? Fine, I say.
I think about it as I leave Thompson's office. Ken is a mixed blessing. On the one hand the guy is a dork who irritates the hell out of me. He isn't the quickest either. Somewhat dim and slow on the uptake. It explains why he is junior in rank to me despite being considerably older and more experienced. The upside is that he tends to be quiet and unassertive. He is a timid individual who does what he is told. Being a bit of a bastard, I will admit that I quite enjoy dominating Ken and I will doubtless be doing a bit of that tomorrow. Poor sod gets a lot of grief at work. He is one of those inadequate types who attracts it. The guy just cannot stand up for himself.
Naomi Fernandez is something else entirely. She is nothing but great news as far as I am concerned. Naomi is fresh out of law school, been with the firm for just a few months, her first proper job, and she is sharp as a tack. The girl is going places, that much is obvious. She is also, and I freely concede that I consider this to be her most important quality, absolutely fucking gorgeous to look at. Exceedingly pretty face, lustrous dark hair, flawless skin, dynamite bod, little Naomi has it all going on. The girl is exceptional. The complete package. Like I say, she has not been with us for long but she is already firmly established as an object of wild desire for me and every other guy around the place. Naomi is very aware of this, she knows that she is enormously appealing to the opposite sex, and she handles it with great aplomb. She processes the relentless male attention she gets at the office with the flirtatious charm and self-confidence that I guess comes naturally to a girl blessed with outstanding looks.
It is admirable but there is a certain calculation about her manner, too, which I have detected. Naomi tends to be particularly vivacious and friendly to guys at work who are influential. This is someone who wants to get ahead and if her physical attributes can assist in that process, which believe me they will, then so much the better. Fair enough. Happily, I am one of those she has identified as worth cultivating and I will have no qualms whatsoever about showing her some shameless favouritism on this little job. Will there be something in it for me? I have high hopes. Certainly during the short briefing I give at the end of the day her behaviour is distinctly promising. As I hold forth about the assignment she makes a point of hanging on my every word. So does Ken, also present, but there is only one person who I am concentrating on and it most definitely is not him.
Naomi has a rather short skirt on, as is usually the case with her, teamed in this case with a tight stretch top. The neckline is high, there is no cleavage, but the top accentuates the shape and size of her breasts. They sit high and full, straining somewhat against the material, so ok you can't exactly see them but you can certainly imagine. Her outfit is completed by black, very sheer tights and high heels. Her luscious legs are therefore generously exposed and beautifully presented and she has them alluringly crossed as she sits there in front of me and next to Ken. This is a thrilling vista for any red-blooded male and I shoot several appreciative glances in that direction. It is impossible not to, as little Naomi well knows. Periodically she uncrosses her thighs and ever so slowly crosses them again, allowing her hemline to ride up a little more. I notice the sly smile on her full pouting lips and a definite glint in her eye each time she does this. She knows I have a hard-on. She slides a shoe off and dangles it hypnotically on the end of her toes. A wicked grin from Naomi when she sees me looking down there and losing my train of thought. She smiles at me and licks her lips and tosses her hair. There is no faux-innocent pretence that she does not know exactly what she is doing here. The girl is being a total pricktease and is relishing the effect she is having.
Not just on me either. Ken keeps stealing furtive sidelong peeps at her legs and her feet, which is pretty hilarious. Talk about out of his league. Mind you, just about anything is out of his league. Ken is pushing forty and he still lives with his folks. He is one of those unfortunate sorts who you can tell never get laid and who consequently reek of sexual frustration. The close proximity of a total babe like Naomi Fernandez, those captivating legs of hers flaunted so brazenly in that sassy little skirt, must be a kind of torture for him. Like a hungry dog tormented by the sight of a juicy bone that it is not allowed to eat. The thought appeals to me. I bet it appeals to Naomi too. I bet little Naomi gets a secret kick out of desperate types like Ken Drone ogling hopelessly at her. She seems like that sort of girl.
For most of the briefing I ignore Ken and so does she. She asks lots of intelligent questions and I'm pleased to answer all of them at length. Ken may as well not be there. He tries to chip in and contribute but I make it brutally clear how deeply unimpressed I am each time he says anything. It's the very opposite of how I am with Naomi. With her I am almost stupidly amiable and engaged and complimentary. I tell her that she is picking up the key points brilliantly. I stress how pleased I am to have someone so bright and diligent on the team. Naomi laps it all up. I find myself showing off for her, playing the big hard boss-man with Ken. I roll my eyes at Naomi whenever Ken speaks, grin sardonically at her as I belittle him with some insulting remark, and Naomi smirks along happily, kind of egging me on. She's like the hottest girl in school who allows the bullies to perform for her.
I tell them which room I've reserved and for us to meet there the next morning. We'll start at 7:00 and finish when we finish. Naomi asks if there is any more prep she needs to do today. That's such a great offer, I tell her, but no it's getting late and she can go home, see her tomorrow bright and early. There is something I would like Ken to do, however, and that is to go and sort the room out. Take the files up there, the laptops, check out the connections etc, so that we can hit the ground running tomorrow, oh and make damn sure to lock all the important stuff away in a cabinet and guard the key overnight with his life. "Ok, Kenny?" I say and he nods, head twitching a little. He hates being called that.
"But I can go home, Mark, right?"
Naomi is grinning like a cat. She is liking this. I thought she would.
"Yep. Ken will be ok with it. Won't you, Kenneth?"
"Yes, course," he goes, trying to ingratiate. He's pathetic, he really is.
Naomi gets up to leave. "See you guys tomorrow then."
"Hey just thinking though," I call out, as she is about to disappear.
She turns around. "What's that?"
"Breakfast," I say.
"Breakfast?"
"Yeah, tomorrow morning. Might be nice if Ken comes in a little bit earlier and does the honours. He can stop off via the canteen and get us something. Don't you think, Naomi?"
"Ooo yes please!" she says, pouting at me prettily. Naomi has totally picked up the vibe. Like I say, she is a clever girl.
For a moment it appears that Ken might be about to protest but he thinks better of it. Guess he has realized what his position in the pecking order is here.
"Right. So, Kenny, mine is a cappuccino, two sugars, and a bacon roll. Plenty of ketchup. Plus whatever Naomi wants."
Naomi ponders for a moment and then says that she would like a decaf latte, also two sugars, and a blueberry muffin.
"Um, ok," Ken says.
"Good boy," I drawl.
I get such a buzz out of speaking in this way to a man who is at least twelve years older than me. Especially doing it in front of Naomi, who piles on the humiliation by letting out a sharp giggle. "Sorry," she goes immediately, but the sentiment is belied by her amused expression and by what she says next.
"Should he not write it down, Mark?"