Mr Tovall Speaks His Mind

This story was originally written and published in one go. I decided to clean it up considerably for readability. If you like absurd, over-the-top fantasies with a dose or two of comedy, this might be your tea. If you want romance, I kind of suck at that. Cheers!

***

The woman seated across from me was older, perhaps 45 or so. She was tall and slender, thinner than me by a margin, but then I had a more voluptuous figure, especially up top. She was Patricia Marsh and she was the Personal Assistant to Henry Tovall, one of the most powerful men in the world. Miss Marsh accepted an interview with me to fill her position and they flew me out to Mr. Tovall's property to meet personally. Miss Marsh assured me that I was one of only a few people who had made it this far in the process. For that I was grateful, because my savings was running low, and I really needed the job.

The only things that people knew about Henry Tovall was he was brilliant in business, and shied from publicity. In fact, he isolated himself from the public. He'd taken over his father's oil company a decade ago and changed it into a global phenomenon, with investments in everything from power, to media, to medicine and technology. He did this all from the small island he owned, off the coast of Florida. Supposedly, he never left that island. I would have thought one who is that reclusive must have a facial deformity or weird limp, but from rare pictures that somehow made their way to the public, that wasn't the case. Henry Tovall appeared to be tall, handsome, sporty, even fashionable.

Patricia was just beginning with her questions. "It says here you served as Randall Parks' personal assistant for two years, quitting just over two months ago. Randall Parks? Of Boston Medical? Why aren't you still with him?"

Randall Parks was a busy man, who demanded the services of a talented PA. Unfortunately, he was also extremely rude to everyone around him. Two years working at his side was far too long, but my efforts had always been top notch. I had prepared an answer to this inevitable question.

"Miss Marsh, it was an honor to work for Mr. Parks during my time with him. As his assistant, I definitely improved my skills and met every demand asked of me and I am quite confident Mr. Parks will testify to that. Unfortunately, it is my opinion that his temperament and everyday demeanor made for a toxic environment. I respect myself too much to continue enduring such working conditions."

"Hmm..." said Patricia. "I know Mr. Parks. Met him several times. What you say doesn't surprise me in the slightest."

I breathed a sigh of relief. Considering I was interviewing for Patricia's job, I had no idea how she would take that answer. Would she consider it inconsiderate? It was truthful, but perhaps more information than a PA should divulge about an ex-boss. Especially Randall Parks. His reputation was important to him.

"How many people did you tell? About the reasons you left that job with Mr. Parks?"

"No one, ma'am, other than you just now. I expect you to keep this interview confidential, as will I. The public has no reason to know, nor listen to, an ex-employee's concerns."

Patricia nodded. "When you say Mr. Parks was rude to you. How exactly?"

"He would often ask for an opinion on something and then completely berate you for having any opinion at all. If you didn't want to answer, he would make you answer. Damned if you do, damned if you don't."

"Any inappropriate actions or words?"

I wondered if Miss Marsh was getting at sexual harassment. It's not unheard of that powerful men engage in extracurricular activities with their PA's, but I would never stand for that. Mr. Parks was honorable in that sense and never crossed the line with me. He was an asshole, but he wasn't that kind of asshole. "No, mostly it was just Mr. Parks' way of thinking and venting. To intentionally cut down those around him."

"The thing that concerns me, Miss Landers - or may I call you Lucy?"

"Lucy is fine," I said, hoping this was a breaking point, a moment we could build rapport. I really wanted this job. The house they stayed in was lavish.

"The thing that concerns me, Lucy, is whether you will have equal trouble around Mr. Tovall."

"Miss Marsh, I can work under very stressful situations, and I can certainly be flexible to navigate any mood the boss would demand. Those are normal and expected things of a PA. However, if you're suggesting Mr. Tovall creates a toxic environment just for the sake of it, as Mr. Parks would often do, then we would not be a good fit."

Patricia paused. "No, Henry wouldn't do anything like that for the sake of it, quite the opposite." I wasn't sure what she was getting at, and almost said so, but she continued. "There is a reason Mr. Tovall values his privacy and why he only speaks through me, or through personal emails. He has a communication disorder."

I sat back in my chair, not sure where this was going.

"This disorder can sometimes make Mr. Tovall appear angry when he's perfectly fine. It can make him say inappropriate things when he has no genuine ill-intentions. It can make him divulge more information about himself than most would divulge to their own spouses or therapists. This disorder doesn't make him incapable of doing work. It doesn't hinder his brilliance in any way. It just makes for awkward, sometimes embarrassing situations."

"Is this a rare disorder or something?" I asked. "I'm not sure I have ever heard of it."

"You've heard of Tourette's syndrome, yes?" I nodded and Patricia continued, "This is that, essentially. It's a neurological disorder. What I say from this point forward stays between us, is that understood?"

"Of course. We are both professionals. I understand and value the importance of privacy, in any regard, for my boss."

"Let me first state that Mr. Tovall has taken this problem very seriously. He's tried therapy. He's tried to anchor acts and words to replace this 'tic' of his, but nothing has worked. He continues therapy, and he continues to practice ways to beat this problem, but he is still greatly challenged. Because of this, he demands the services of a PA who understands they must not be bothered or concerned by those challenges."

A brief chill raced up my spine. "I appreciate you telling me this. But what exactly... specifically... is the problem? Is it just what he says, or does he also behave differently than the norm in other ways?"

Patricia smiled and waved it off. "Oh no, he behaves perfectly normally in many other ways. It's only his words. Like any thought that passes through his mind risks being audibly communicated. It can be..." she paused for dramatic effect, "... quite a bit to take in. If Mr. Parks was too much for you, I fear Mr. Tovall may be as well."

"Honestly, Mr. Parks wasn't too much. He was just an asshole. He purposefully tried to make others feel less than around him, if you know what I mean." I paused for a moment, realizing again I may have said too much. "I suppose my brutal honesty may not be appreciated."

Patricia laughed. "Not at all. In fact, it's what Henry might like. Brutal honesty."

"I'm sorry?"

"I can't imagine you came into this interview thinking you would call your ex-employer an asshole to me. You know, someone who I might contact for a reference."

"No, I did not," I said. Maybe I had crossed the line, after all.

"But Henry would like that about you, I promise."

"Well, he's already different than Mr. Parks then. Randall didn't smile about anything."

Patricia laughed again and said, "Allow me to explain the problem just a tiny bit more, though. Imagine, if you were around Mr. Parks, working, unable to control a thought you had about him, do you think it is possible you would have called him an asshole to his face? In fact, if you were incapable of keeping such thoughts to yourself, you definitely would have called him that, right?"

"You are suggesting this is the kind of problem Mr. Tovall has?"

"Exactly."

"I understand now better than ever, his need for privacy."

"Right, but there's even a bit more you should know."

"Yes?"

"As his PA, I am around him more than anyone else. There's also the maid, the cook and the handyman who all see him regularly, so they understand Mr. Tovall's challenges. No one else, not even the delivery men or the pilots that fly us out here see Henry personally."

"Okay," I said.

"I am going to be out for the next nine months, possibly a year, while I have two surgeries on this bum leg. It's why we're looking for a replacement." I'd noticed Patricia was walking with a limp earlier. Now it made sense why she was leaving, if even temporarily. "This replacement needs to be skilled enough to handle the job without any training. I, unfortunately, don't have time for it."

"Then I'm your girl," I said, pragmatically. "I've done it all, Miss Marsh. Really. I am sorry to hear about your leg and understand your urgent need for a capable replacement. However, when you say you are only temporarily leaving?"

"Don't worry, Miss Landers, you'll stay on when I come back. Believe me, there's more than enough work for two, and money won't be the issue."

Money. Finally, the subject of money. "About that?" I asked.

"You'll live here, all food and expenses paid. Three thousand dollars will be deposited every week into your account. You get two days off a week and will have access to travel, always on our dime. Mr. Tovall never leaves, but we do?"

I had almost choked at the pay, but managed to keep my cool. "He really never leaves the island?"

"Never. He's had the house renovated to keep life interesting, since he confines himself here. There's a gym, tennis courts, bowling alley in the west wing, swimming pool, entertainment rooms, the beach of course..." Like most rich people, I thought, as she continued. "But Lucy, I'm not quite done explaining all the challenges Mr. Tovall faces."

"Yes?"

"I'll give an example. This morning, I had to personally wake Mr. Tovall. He'd slept through his alarm again, working late. He told me that he hoped I got wet looking at the erection in his briefs."

"What?" I nearly cracked up.

"Unlike any 'normal' person, such words might be construed as sexual harassment. Not the case with Henry. He simply cannot help himself, and while he may have said those words, he did not remotely 'mean' them." Patricia even made the quotation marks when she said that. It had me wondering if she was still withholding some important information. "It's important you understand all this," she said.

"I do," I said. "Does that kind of stuff happen often? The sexual remarks?"

"It happens almost always. So often, that it becomes second nature ignoring it, as he means absolutely no harm. He'll voice nearly every passing thought that enters his mind, no matter what it is. He can try to hold back for a few minutes, but it is difficult. Imagine never being able to hold one secret thought in your mind, Lucy. That you had to let every one of them escape your lips. That's his curse, as it were."

"Miss Patricia, I assure you it won't be a problem," I said.

"We'll find out in just a minute," said Patricia.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"As we were talking, I texted Henry to come on over. He'll be here shortly. Why don't you meet him and then you can decide if you're well-suited for this?" I started to get out of my seat. "Oh, no, honey. Stay seated, please. Henry is anxious enough as it is. It's better this way."

I wasn't sure why standing would make things worse, but I sat back down as suggested. "I'll be more nervous than he is, Miss Marsh. I'm meeting one of the most brilliant men in the world. Regardless, whether you hire me or not, I want you to know this is an honor."

Patricia smiled and nodded. "His tic bothers him very much, Lucy. To ease things in, let's abandon handshakes and formalities. Mr. Tovall would appreciate that."

"Understood," I said, just as the door to the office opened. In walked a handsome and cut man. He had to have been six foot tall or more, with a swimmer's frame. He was sharply dressed, so I wondered if he also had access to a personal tailor.

"Henry, come in," said Patricia. "This is Lucy. Lucy Landers. She was PA to Randall Parks for some time."

"Oh, I just sent him an email last week. He still hasn't gotten back to me." Henry Tovall very briefly looked at me and forced a smile. He seemed normal to me in every way, for someone who is shy around people.

"Maybe Mr. Parks' new PA can't keep up as well as I could," I said jokingly.

"Henry, I was thinking you could ask Miss Landers a few questions, see how you two get along, is that okay?"

"Yup, let's get this out of the way," he sighed, stepping forward, closer to me. I noticed he avoided looking me in the eyes. Instead, he directed his attention to the floor or the wall, and often enough to Patricia.

"We prepared for this," Patricia said to him in a whisper while winking to me.

Henry spoke, "Miss Landers, how familiar are you with the New York Stock Exchange?"

"I know how to trade online," I said. "Did it for Mr. Parks all the time. Tech today makes it easy. I'll know the language you're speaking, should the topic come up."

"I get hundreds of emails every day. You must learn how to filter them. Jesus, you have huge knockers."

I almost choked. Was I supposed to respond to that? Miss Marsh was gently shaking her head, telling me to dismiss the awkward statement. I answered his work-related question. "I had to manage the same email issues with Mr. Parks. I can speed read, too. It may take some understanding of your priorities, but once I am acclimated, any communications will be handled effectively. I know your time is limited, much like Mr. Parks' was."

"Can you suck those things? Jesus, they're so fucking huge." Henry then kind of paused for second, looking over to Patricia for help.

"It's okay, Henry, she's been briefed."

"Well, yes, my time is limited," he continued, as if he hadn't just speculated on whether I could suck my own tits or not. Instead, he just moved forward with his questions. "How did you come to be Randall Parks' PA?"

"I started in HR, actually, but every time Mr. Parks stopped by, I handled him better than the other ladies in the room. He respected that, I guess. Even if he hated me for standing up to him, in a manner. Anyway, he made me tag along with him one day, and it just went from there."

"I see, so it wasn't because of your tits?"

"I hope to think not."

Patricia jumped forward, leaning over her desk. "Miss Landers, Mr. Tovall requests that we do not respond to his tics."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said. Henry was eyeing the floor, perhaps embarrassed or just frustrated with himself.

Patricia leaned in, whispering more even though Mr. Tovall could definitely hear her. "It's just that he often says well... much worse things... and addressing them would be assuming that he really thinks those things. For instance, once Henry said - and he's given me permission to tell this story - that he wished he had a bigger cock so that he could stuff my mouth with it... just to shut me up!" I sat rather stone-like, not sure I heard her clearly, while she belted out a hearty laugh. "Of course, Henry would not wish that on me. His cock's big enough as it is, but it was some stupid thing that sarcastically passed his brain."

"Uh... wait... what?" I asked, stumbling, trying to grasp the context of what she just said.

Henry interjected. He seemed to be fighting his thoughts and I watched his lips quiver in strange ways. Then suddenly, the words just spat out: "I might jerk off to the image of your tits later!" He then instantly calmed and asked, "Do you speak any foreign languages? Many of the delivery guys are Spanish speaking in these parts."

I ignored his sexist comment and replied, "I took Spanish for three years in school. I'm not proficient, but I can work on it. I assure you it won't be a problem, Mr. Tovall." I looked to Patricia and noticed she seemed satisfied with how I had ignored her boss' rather startling admission of wishing to jerk off to my tits. I looked to see if I was exposing more cleavage than I had been aware. Nope, all good. I continued, "My mother was from France, however. French is a second language to me."

Henry addressed Patricia, "I was hoping we would find someone fluent in Spanish."

Patricia sighed, "Henry, no one who made it this far into the interview process speaks Spanish. I personally think Lucy is best suited for the job."

"I suppose that's saying something," said Henry, this time actually addressing me.

"I mean it, Mr. Tovall. I'll practice on my Spanish every free hour I get. It won't take long to catch up. If it is one of your demands, I will meet it."

Henry smiled and winked to Patricia. "I like her. Confident mind, experienced, big tits."

'With the tits again,' I thought, but if he wasn't actually sexually harassing me, why not just put up with it? I'd get a good salary and get to stay on a beautiful island. I think I can manage. "When can I start?" I asked.

"You're already here so why not now?" asked Patricia. "I'll cancel the two other interviews and we can get you settled in. I have to leave in three days, anyway."

"Are you serious?" I asked.

"Can I have a crew fetch your stuff?" she asked. "We can get a change of address in a matter of days. What do you say? You on board?"

I noticed more now that Patricia was limping heavily on one leg, almost trembling. Unlike me, she had been standing for a while. I was beginning to feel a bit proud of not just bagging a great job, but also genuinely helping someone. Patricia seems like a nice person. "Of course I'm on board," I smiled. "Thank you for this opportunity."

I stood up and shook Patricia's hand, just as Henry blurted out, "I'd rather see you eating each other out than shaking hands, but whatever."

Patricia rolled her eyes, yet kept a straight face otherwise. "Henry, you're taking the day off today, yes?"

"That's right," he said.

"I'll help Lucy get settled. She starts tomorrow."

"I trust your judgment, Patricia." Mr. Tovall addressed me one last time before he left the room. "Pat isn't easy to please, so you must be impressive." I blushed at the compliment. He quickly bolted and I swear I could have heard him say he wanted to "fuck those titties."

"So that's Henry," said Patricia, still standing. "Think you can handle him?"

"It's his disorder that causes this, right? Is it always sexual?"

"Oh, not always... just mostly. I'm sure he was startled by your..." Patricia nodded to my chest and raised one brow. "... assets. Caught his attention and he couldn't focus off it. That happens sometimes."

"Um... okay."

"Yesterday, he was bitching at how it sucks he couldn't murder his mother. She visited not long ago, so you know. Anyway, Henry wouldn't hurt a fly, much less his mother who he loves dearly. But a thought enters his mind, no matter how ludicrous, and it often escapes his lips."

"Okay, I get it."

"I'll be frank, he's going to mention your breasts a lot, Lucy. You might as well get used to it. He's always telling me he wishes he could whack me on the ass when he's fucking me."

"But..."

"Again, it can't be helped that he has this tic, Lucy. Be honest. When you saw him walk in, did you not think he was handsome?"

"Well, yeah... " I laughed.

"Right? Imagine if you had a tiny thought cross your mind, like what it might be like in the sack with him. What if you just blurted out something like, 'I want to have sex with you!' or 'I want your cock in my mouth!' How would you feel?"

"Uh, yeah, I suppose that would be embarrassing."

"It takes Henry a lot of courage and trust to be in your presence. Please don't forget that."