It wasn't a secret around the office that there were going to be a lot of people let go over the next few weeks. Management was calling it an efficiently slim down and blaming it on the economy but everybody knew that was bullshit. Thanks to a new integrated computer and camera system there was simply less need for middle management and they were being cut loose to maximize profits.
"So do you think you'll be one of the guys who get's let go?" Henry Wu attempted to sound casual instead of nervous but the way he was drumming his fingers across the top of the water cooler gave him away more surely than the thin layer of sweat making him glisten.
Gramm Gibson took a deep breath and shook his head. "Of course not. I've been here for almost seven years. There isn't a chance in hell that Ms. King is going to let me go." Gramm glanced around quickly to make sure the two of them were completely alone. "I mean yeah she's a black bitch but she's not stupid or anything."
Henry's eyes went wide. At the same time his drumming increased to a new tempo. "Are you insane? Why would you say that?"
"Because it's true. She comes in here with this chip on her shoulder." He forced his voice into his best imitation of the stereotypical black woman. "Well why don't you just listen hur. I know you stupid little peckerwoods want to come in here like you know me, but you don't." Henry had to suppress a giggle when Gramm snapped three times in rapid succession while his head moved seemingly independent of his shoulders. "I had to be six times better than any of you to get this job. That's because it was twice as hard because I'm black and twice as hard as a woman. That's six times so don't come up in here like you think you know what I been though."
"Mr. Gibson, Ms. King is ready to see you now." Henry just about leapt clean out of his skin where Mr. Gibson was too terrified to move at all. He really hated Angelina Phobos. She had this seemingly supernatural talent for just appearing places. "Mr. Gibson."
The blood instantly drained from Gramm's face wondering exactly how much she'd heard before announcing herself. "Yes. I heard you." Gramm said spinning around to face Angelina.
Something about Angelina was just creepy. Gramm could never quite put his finger on what it was about the woman that made the hairs on the back of his hands stand on end. It was probably because she seemed to somehow suck the heat out of a room. "She's waiting for you Mr. Gibson." Angelina opened the door to Jenni's office and stepped aside.
Gramm Gibson walked past the diminutive woman whose eyes were almost completely concealed behind the glare of her glasses and into Jenni King's office. He'd never actually stepped foot inside the office and he'd only seen Jenni King in passing. She was a lot more attractive up close. Skin just a few shades lighter than chocolate, full pouting lips, long curly hair that ended mid way down her back. She was actually quite stunning. She was talking on the phone and seemed like she wasn't particularly paying attention to him. Then the door shut behind him.
"Do you like your job?" Jenni asked setting the phone back in its cradle and rising up. She was naturally a tall woman somewhere just below six feet or sow but the knee high heeled boots she wore skyrocketed the ebony beauty from tall straight into intimidating. "Is this something that you can see yourself doing in five years? In ten? Because I'll be honest with you I'm not interested in keeping anybody in this office that isn't dedicated to the cause."
Gramm averted his eyes trying to find anything the room but her to look at. "Yes I like my job. I can see myself still being here in five or ten years. I can see myself retiring as part of this company!" He blurted out. He still hadn't found anything he could focus on and not looking at her was only sending his other senses into overdrive. The steady click-clack of her heels on the hardwood floor was setting a tempo in his head. The hint of her Angelina perfume invading his sinuses and he swore he could simply feel her presence filling the room.
Jenni stopped walking just a few feet away from him. "You like your job?" He nodded. "That's funny because I keep asking around and nobody is even sure what you're job actually is." Gramm went to open his mouth but Jenni cut him off. "I know you're the junior officer in charge of material appropriations. What I can't figure out is what that actually means. Nearest I can tell Mr. Gibson is that your uncle used to be on the Board of Directors and he got you a job that mostly amounts to you banging all the interns and most of the secretaries." Gramm's heart rate suddenly went from rest to race and leapt up into his throat at the same time. Somehow Jenni could see it. "So the rumors are true. I wondered what it was Lexi kept getting into that left her hair such a mess after lunch. Is that what you see yourself doing in five to ten years?"
"No ma'am. I can see myself being a productive member of this company." Gramm's nose suddenly itched but he didn't dare move his hands from his sides.
"Oh is that so? And what special skills do you have?" Jenni took a step towards Gramm. "See I've been here for four almost five years and I've never seen you do much other than chat it up around the water cooler. I honestly didn't think much about it, there are lots of people I never see anywhere else but nobody seems to know what you do and you're not even denying it."
"I can. . ." Gramm struggled to think of anything he could do that justified his six digit salary.
Jenni stepped forward and grabbed him by the crotch just firmly enough to communicate that he should hold very still. "Look at me." She waited in silence until Gramm's blue eyes met her light brown ones. "You can keep doing exactly what you're doing. Since you apparently don't actually know what you do let me spell it out for you." Using Gramm's cock like a leash Jenni dragged him over to the desk and sat him down. "We have the highest intern retention rate in the entire company, highest productivity in the state, above average morale according to those meddlesome psychiatrists that come around once a year and the lower than average stress. We take fewer sick days than most as well. Judging by when all those trends started I've come to one conclusion. You and your dick-" she gave him a good squeeze for emphasis, "-keep things moving smoothly around here." Gramm's eyes widened slightly. "So I'm here to make you a deal little man. You listening?"
