(click) Send.
It is done. I have transferred all my money to the offshore accounts, exactly $8,345,987, not a fortune but in the islands and properly managed I'll be Donald 'fucking' Trump. I have my bags packed, my airline ticket and my new identity papers. I am about to disappear with my companies profits and no one will notice the missing money until I have become just a memory.
I look around and go through my checklist for the tenth time. I am a very successful accountant because of my attention to detail and now that attention will let me get away with one of the largest embezzling schemes in history.
Fuck it, can't be too careful, let me go through it one more time. My vacation is set up and my flight booked. I will travel to the Bahamas and check into a room, then I will take an unchartered boat to the Cayman Island and transfer my funds to several offshore accounts around the world and then go back to the hotel and check out. Head back to the airport, where somewhere along the way I will be "robbed and murdered" and my identification will be found but my body will be presumed dumped as has happened to other tourists in the past(along with a very costly payment to the chief of police).
I, however, will actually be heading to a small cove on the backend of a little island with great fishing and beautiful women and no extradition treaty. By the time anyone figures out about the embezzling I will be a ghost and no one will be the wiser Now is there anything else left to do? Oh yes, one more thing.
I move over to the intercom and hit the button, "Shakima, could you come in here for a sec."
A second later the door opens and in walks this lovely brown skin woman, about 5' 6" with beautiful breasts and a nice plump ass you could sit a drink on. She was only twenty-two but she already had two kids and she was your typical single mom trying to do it on her on.
"Shakima, thanks for staying late."
"No problem, Mr. Mitchell," she said as she had her steno pad in her hand waiting for me to direct her in her next task.
I knew it was a problem, anytime she works this late she would have to find a baby sitter and on short notice that is often difficult. We had many fights about her having to leave at 5:30 everyday. I like to work late and I like to have a secretary around to help but I tried to be understanding and help a young sister out, plus she looked so damn good in a sweater.
"Shakima, have a seat, please."
"Yes, Mr. Mitchell," she sat down facing me, her knees together, angled towards me, her back straight and her appearance impeccable as always. She is one attractive young woman.
"Shakima, do you know why I keep you on as my secretary?"
"Well, I hope its because you think I do a good job for you, Mr. Mitchell."
"Well you do , but it not just that, it also that right there..." as my hand waved in her general direction.
"Excuse me?" she said as she gave me a puzzled look.
"Shakima, do I have to spell it out for you, you are a smart young lady. You know what I am talking about."
The recognition on her face was instantaneous and then the uncertainty that followed. She said nothing. Smart move.
"Shakima," I said As I moved to the front of my desk and leaned against it. "I have to say, I find you very attractive and under different circumstances I would probably ask you out and get to know you better, but I don't have the time for that now, so I want to make you a proposition."
"Yes?"
"Here is an envelope with two thousand dollars in it. I will give it to you, if you have sex with me, here and now."
Her eyes widened and she stood up and walked over to me.
"What the fuck did you just say to me?" she was livid. "Do you think just because you have a little bit of money, you can treat me like a whore, well fuck you and fuck this job. I will go to EOC tomorrow to file sexual harassment charges against your dumbass."
Time for plan B.
"Shakima, I am sorry if you perceived it that way because that was not the way I meant it. Maybe I was a bit clumsy in my approach but I really do find you attractive and I would like to get to know you better."
"So you offer me an envelope full of money to fuck you, is that suppose to break the ice?" She was calming down somewhat but she was still defensive.
"Shakima, I don't have much time and I want you so bad. Maybe I shouldn't have offered you money like that but I know how much you are struggling and I thought I could help out. Here take the envelope, no strings attached." I walk over to her and placed the envelope in her hands.
"Shakima, don't hate me because I don't have game and am not a playa." adding emphasis on the word 'playa'
She laughed. "I do need this money but I am not a whore, Mr. Mitchell."
"Call me Mark."