Here I am, my own favorite office drone and I'm not droning like I used to. My personal assistant insists that I circulate among the workers in my section before I can sit down in my office and blow off the rest of the morning. I thought this would be worse than it is. It started with me stopping by Paulette's desk. Seeing me appears to make her happy, which is a plus in my book. Suddenly, other office workers were saying 'hi' to me as well so I feel obliged to talk with them. (Sigh) Next thing I know they are asking me to look at all kinds of work they are doing and are asking me my advice. That kind of weirds me out.
Peggy has prepared me for this eventuality though. She's really smart that way. All I am required to do is remember what time of day it is. In the morning I say: I will review this and have a response by noon. If it is in the afternoon I say: I will look this over and have something back to you by start of business tomorrow. I have no idea what any of that stuff means. I certainly don't see any extra work coming my way, so I'm happy. Peggy does have me sign off on a few extra things though plus she uses my computer to type some e-mails. I don't know why she can't use her own, but since she doesn't mind me watching girls' softball on ESPN while she works, I don't worry about her using my mailbox for whatever she's doing.
I have actually gotten a smile from Peggy though I'm not sure why. I decided to get a new coffeemaker for the employee's lounge plus a month's supply of my favorite blends. I'm also having a fruit basket delivered there daily so I can always find those little oranges I like whenever I want them. Peggy did all the real work like locating the vendor and placing the order, but it was my idea and I'm very proud of that. I think Peggy is proud of me too.
Peggy comes into my office after I've made my rounds and have settled into a tough game of Angry Birds. I put my phone down and look at her expectantly. She doesn't say anything and after a second I realize that something is wrong.
"Tell me what's wrong," tumbles out of my mouth. I'm not sure why I said that. It isn't like I can do anything.
"Oh, it is nothing. I have a few more things for you to sign," she sighs. As she comes around the desk I notice that the middle button on her blouse has fallen off. I do notice cleavage; I am a guy after all. Peggy looks at me, looks down at her blouse and bra (lacey magenta) and covers up the gap with one of her hands. I look into her eyes trying to figure out what to do or say next.
Her eyes are slightly watery and I figure I've screwed up.
"I'm sorry," I mutter. Saying 'you have great ta-tas and I can't look away,' doesn't seem right for this situation. Her eyes go from sad and upset to bright and glowing.
"You're brilliant!" she blurts out, "fucking brilliant." He leans in and gives me a kiss on the top of my head. I have nothing to say. She just shoved her D-sized breasts in my face. Her husband is one lucky guy.
Only after she sprints from the room does it occur to me I haven't a clue what I've done. This is not usual for me. Being called brilliant is new. Something else now occurs to me; I've dodged doing some work and gotten a peek at Peggy's desirables. This is turning out to be a great day. Peggy ruins that by telling me I have a working lunch with Mr. Dewitt from Quality Control. I've never had a working lunch before and didn't know it was going to be in my office. How can you have lunch if you don't leave the office? Peggy assures me that other people do this and survive.
Malcolm Dewitt is a nice guy, 32 years old, not married nor any serious prospects though he is good-looking; he's a slave to his job (I've seen his overtime reports – Peggy insisted that I do). He owns a small townhouse and had a cat that ran away. No friends or family close by. He's in my office, eating Italian takeout with me, going over compliance regulations for the upcoming year. I'm not sure what that means. I nod and look serious, just like Peggy told me to.
"So sir, you see why we need a new junior compliance officer," Malcolm finishes up. "The new work load will come out to around fifty man/hours and the current staff can't handle that."
"What does HR say on the matter?" I say. I always try to 'pass the buck' whenever possible.
"They tell me that it isn't in the budget," he gripes. "We are going to get killed with the overtime, sir." It is past noon. I know what to say.
"I will look this over and have something back to you by start of business tomorrow."
"Thank you sir; I'm sure you will do the right thing." He stands up to go, "It is good to see you taking a hand in this matter. It means a lot to the crew to see that Upper Management is listening to us." It belatedly occurs to me that by Upper Management he means me.
"I'll take your paperwork and review it. This is my first thing to do as soon as I clear lunch away." Honestly it is the only thing for me to do after lunch and all I have to do is hand it off to Peggy, but if it makes him feel good I'll act like I know what I'm doing. Speaking of the Devil, the door opens and Peggy walks in with Briana Sinclair. I stand up.
Briana Sinclair is from our legal department, age 30, no committed relationships, and a workaholic like Malcolm here. For some reason her overtime reports has crossed my desk too. It is like Peggy has ESP or something. She rents uptown, which is probably too expensive for her salary and this most likely explains her drab clothing. Her body looks nice enough, but she could work on her hair and makeup.
"Mr. Townsend, a problem has come up that needs your immediate attention." The first thing that occurs to me is that the building most be on fire and we need to leave right away. Then I realize we don't hear any alarms.
"Sure," I smile, "what can I help with?"
"A compliance issue has come up that our legal department is looking into, but we aren't allowed to take action without executive authorization," Peggy explains. I am now totally confused; who here thinks I have executive authority?
"Great. I have Malcolm here from Compliance. Why don't you explain the issue to us both and let us brainstorm a solution?" I grin. Thank God Malcolm's here. Otherwise I would be totally lost. Man, I am lucky he just happens to be in the right place at the right time. For some reason Peggy is giving me an 'atta boy' smile.
"Brianna, why don't you sit next to Malcolm and I'll pull a chair over by Mr. Townsend and we can work this out," Peggy says graciously. We all take up our assigned roles and I quickly learn mine. I sit back, nod a few times, and occasionally bounce an idea off Peggy. I haven't a clue what anyone is talking about and I have to resist the urge to tidy up my office while everyone else does the work.
I come back to the world with Briana asking me,
"Will you do this sir?" I look to Peggy who stares back at me. I think and think and think ... Peggy biting her lip means something bad, so not biting her lip means it's something good.
"Peggy," I say decisively, "Clear my schedule. I'm not going to stop until these two matters are adequately resolved."
"Right away sir," Peggy responds by jumping up. I love the way her breasts bounce. I try not to ogle them too much.
When Peggy ushers those two out of the office they are in animated conversation. Peggy looks inordinately pleased with herself. She comes over and gives me a peck on the cheek.
"What was that for?" I ask bewildered.
"For being you sir," she grins.
"Now, how am I going to get out of this," I look at her timidly. "Who in the hell do I go to?"
"Your Father," Peggy beams. I groan. My Father doesn't hate me, he loathes me. He thinks I'm a totally worthless nitwit, and I tend to agree with him.
"Dad will toss me out on my ear," I explain.
"Not if you are going to save him half a million dollars he's not. All you have to do is memorize forty lines and don't panic. Can you do that?" Reluctantly I nod.
"For you I'll do it," I smile. She reaches up and strokes my chin line.
"Thank you," she says, "for re-affirming my faith in you." I have no idea what she's talking about, and I really don't care. Her touch feels really nice. I'll worry about Dad later.
(After surviving Dad's office)
"Well," Peggy whispers as I walk out of my Father's office. I must look like a punch-drunk sailor.
"He approved it. He told me it was good work. He even looked at me funny, like he'd never really seen me before. I've never been so afraid in all my life," I manage to finally say. Peggy circles my arm in hers and we head for the elevator. We are on the top floor of the building where all the final decisions are made. It occurs to me that except for my first day on the job, I've never been up here during business hours.
"Let's get you back to your office and make some calls. Certain people are going to love this," she tells me.
"Did I really save the company money?" She squeezes my arm in response.
"Yes you did. How many of those lines did you have to go through?" Peggy asks.
"Thirty-eight," I sigh. "It was a close thing. Honestly I think he was surprised to hear your ideas coming out of my mouth. You must be really smart."
"Are you going to hold that against me?" Peggy replies seriously. I don't think that question makes sense.
"Why? You have always looked after me," I look down at her. Peggy and I are from different worlds. She comes from a broken home, a poor background, and has had to fight for every scrap of advancement she's ever gotten. Only now does it appear to me that she doesn't know how I feel about her.
"I doubt I could come to work without you, Peggy. I know I'm not the brightest guy in the company, but you don't treat me like I'm a moron. I like that. It makes me feel useful. I like you Peggy." She squeezes my arm even tighter.
"I like you too, Joshua," she sighs. "Joshua, what is my name?"
"Penelope Anne Fark, but you've gone by Peggy since the fifth grade."
"How come you can remember that, but not a compliance report?" she wonders.
"I only remember the stuff that no one else values," I respond. It is my gift.
"I value it, Joshua. Now I need you to do something for me; two things actually."
"Sure," I reply, "what are they?"
"I want you to play along no matter how weird it gets and I want you to forget that I am married for the next twenty-four hours. Can you do that?" she inquires.
"Does this mean we are going to sleep together?" I ask hopefully. She giggles.
"Don't press your luck."
(That evening)
Peggy tells me the plan is simple. I think we have different definitions of the word. Malcolm and I are going out to a bar to get some drinks to celebrate our/his good fortune on his proposal. I am to drive. Peggy and Brianna are going to show up a little later and we will all have some drinks together. She will be driving for the girls. I am not to drink too much. Peggy will remember some work at my office that we absolutely need and the four of us will go there.
Now it gets weird. Peggy and I are going to go into my bathroom and pretend to have sex. She didn't exactly explain how we are going to do this. I get a feeling it won't be as fun as real sex. Brianna and Malcolm will be excited by our actions and have a bit of a fling themselves. I repeat; Peggy's idea of simple and my idea of simple are totally different things.
