Chad hated his job. He really wanted to write computer code for video games. Instead, he sat at the help desk of a large corporation mindlessly telling clueless people how to change their desktop background. He was twenty two and had a college degree, damn it. He should be working towards ownership of a startup software design company.
Unfortunately, there was nothing extraordinary about Chad. He had dark hair and eyes and a face that, while not repelling women, didn't exactly draw them in, either. He had an average body of average height.
But he did have a sharp mind and a growing cynicism, a lethal combination when used correctly.
Recently, Chad was involved in a new project that was taking up much of his time. The company was switching to a new document management system and everybody's e-mail had to be moved to new servers. This was a fairly routine task that was, at least, different than Chad's normal task. One user at a time, he and his help desk mates were working their way through the list.
Chad noticed that the next batch of e-mail to move was that of Emily Smith, VP of Sales. This would be the same Emily Smith that everyone in the know recognized as a rising star in the company, certainly a potential CEO candidate in the future. She was thirty eight, brunette, and gorgeous. The only time Chad helped Emily at her desk, he came away with a significant start to an erection.
He knew only two things about Emily: One, she was the only 'older' woman he ever wanted to fuck; and Two, she knew virtually nothing about the computer network.
Therefore, the entire time her e-mails were magically floating from one server to another, he was picturing her in her blouse, too many buttons open, a flesh color bra coming into view as she leaned over her desk. Just as he was about to move the hardening cock inside his pants, he noticed a message on the screen.
'Folder could not be moved.'
He entered a few administrator passwords and prepared to move the individual folder manually after seeing that the privacy setting had been set to the maximum. He saw the name on the folder, EWS Personal. Being an otherwise slow day and with nobody in sight, Chad decided to have a peek.
The first thing he detected was that every message was to or from James Jones, who he quickly found out by looking at the address and reading a couple messages was a VP at his company's fiercest competitor.
He read approximately half of the e-mails.
He discerned the following, among other things: Emily had benefited greatly from some information James passed along; Emily and James were having a sexual relationship; and both had a dreadful fear of their spouses and bosses finding out.
Chad threw a thumb drive into the USB port and directed the folder to that location. A moment later, the contents were in his pocket.
Chad leaned back in his chair, put his hands behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling with a wry smile on his face.
###
Emily threw her pen onto the desk, not watching as it ricocheted off a Starbucks cup and stack of papers before settling down.
"God damned, fucking computer," she murmured. "Why doesn't anything ever work in this hellhole."
There was a rap on the door.
"What?!"
Chad opened it a crack and said, "Do you have a problem, Mrs. Smith?"
"No. You do," Emily snapped back. "Make this damn thing print right."
Chad closed the door behind him as he walked in. In the half dozen steps it took to get to her desk, Chad had completed a visual inspection of the impeccably dressed VP. Her knit top was generously low cut and tight. Her skirt was mid-thigh and tight. A typical Emily Smith outfit.
She rolled away from the desk and allowed the so-called expert access to her keyboard. A few clicks later, involving dialog boxes Emily wouldn't have recognized in a million years, the printer began spitting out paper.
If Chad had waited for a thank you, he would have been there all day. He began to leave.
Almost at the door, he stopped and turned. "Oh, I meant to mention something to you."
"What?" Emily asked in the most annoying voice she could muster.
"Your e-mails have been moved. But what did you want us to do with your private folder?" he said.
Emily's eyebrows narrowed in a questioning look. "What folder?"
"EWS Personal."
It took a second or two, but ultimately Emily's face couldn't hide the alarms that went off in her head. Quickly assuming that nothing untold had happened, she said, "Oh. That one. Just put it with the others."
"I'm not sure I can do that," Chad said calmly.
"Why not?"
Chad wished he had more experience yanking people's chains. He only had one shot at this with Emily and he needed it to work.
"Well, there was a problem with some of the e-mails. Like the ones from James Jones," he said.
"You looked at them?! You opened my private e-mails?" she practically screamed.
"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to put something in an e-mail that you don't want the whole world to know?"
Emily stood up and moved from behind her desk. "You little prick. I can get you fired for this."
"I can get you indicted, Mrs. Smith. How much profit did you make from the stocks you bought in Triad right before the merger, thanks to James' insider information?" Chad stated.
Emily was fuming, with a distinct touch of terror mixed in. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, unsure of exactly what the kid knew but presuming the worst. She put one hand on the corner of her desk, supporting herself while she stared at Chad, who was now only a few feet away.
"What do you want?" she asked tersely.
"Want?" Chad asked. "It's not really what I want, Emily. You don't mind if I call you Emily, do you? It's what YOU want."
"What do you mean?"
Chad moved a couple steps closer to her until he was within an arm's length of the beautiful woman.
"I learned lots of things in those e-mails. I learned about you and James, I learned about the stock deal...," he paused. "And I learned about your little fantasies, Emily."
He thought she would faint. The normal glowing complexion in her face turned ashen.
