Dona Britt was a sexy mid-management Human Resource executive known for her quick wit, her grace, her style, and her impeccable dress.
It was often joked that Dona had direct deposit to Nordstrom and Saks Fifth Avenue. She always came to work smartly dressed with all the appropriate jewelry. There was never a strand of hair out of place, her desk was spotless and neat, and she always seemed to be in the right place at the right time.
She had it all: a great job, cool wheels, a hunk of a boyfriend and a can't miss tag toward senior management. Most figured it was only a matter of time before she'd be moving into a bigger office.
All of which confused me when I started hearing the rumors about her and her boss, Morty P. MacLeish. Many, including Dona, said the "P" in his middle name stood for Pig, because he was always hitting on younger women in the building. He had a lovely wife, two wonderful children, and kept his alleged dalliances and affairs discrete, but everyone at work knew he played around.
So while it wasn't surprising that Morty might be snaking a few of the girls in the office, there was no way in my mind he'd ever score with Ms. Britt. She was too perfect, had too much taste and wouldn't put up with Morty's crass appearance and even worse treatment of women in general. Fact is he treated them like second class citizens who had to put up with him because of his power and position.
I dismissed as ridiculous the rumors that Dona was "seeing" Morty. No way she would put up with his crass personality.
Still, the rumors persisted about their evening rendezvous. Never substantiated, but rumored nonetheless.
I figured it was idle gossip, at least until one of my closest friends mentioned he'd seen the two leaving together late one night. I of course thought of 50 reasons why they might have been working late, a special project, or a planning session, or preparation for an upcoming Board meeting. My friend Chad said that while that might surely be true, it also seemed that Dona's normally perfect makeup was messed and her hair was merely a shadow of its normally coifed state.
That night I masturbated while imagining Morty and Dona getting it on, but I didn't seriously think they were. They were two opposites. She'd go more for the perfect, sensitive man, while he would go more for short skirts, big boobs and glitz.
Heck, if they dated and dined, he'd surely want Hooters while she would be more suited for Le Bec Fin.
Weeks went by and I forgot about the rumors, concentrating more on work, homelife and playtime. It wasn't until I saw the two slipping out late from work one night that my interest peaked. It was an accident I even saw them, for I surely wasn't spying. My printer had run out of paper, and while searching for more I noticed Morty's car in the back lot rather than the front lot where it normally sat. Right next to it was Dona's car. That brought ideas to my head. Just a coincidence, I thought, until I saw the two of them walking out the back of the atrium toward their vehicles. I watched as they went toward their cars, then looked around quickly before sneaking a fast kiss.
As they drove off I surmised the rumors were indeed true and that they were trysting somewhere in the office. I walked back toward my cubicle, but detoured toward the front of the building where Morty's large office sat. His door was open, and I couldn't help myself. I looked inside, but didn't see anything amiss, as if they would have gallivanted all around the room and left it in shambles. It didn't smell of sex, of her perfume, nothing.
I started to leave, but noticed his desk calendar and decided to take a peek. Sure enough he had a 6 p.m. meeting for tonight listed, but not with Dona. Rather it was with Anod Corporation.
Anod Corporation? I never heard of it.
The name, though, stuck in my mind. After eating dinner, over a video with my wife, it struck me. Anod was Dona spelled backward!
Brilliant.
The next day, while Morty and his secretary were at a luncheon meeting, I flew by the woman watching his phones on the auspices of dropping off some papers and a report onto his desk. While inside the office, I quickly glanced at the calendar and noticed regular meetings with the Anod Corporation over the last three months. Usually at 5 or 6 p.m., normally once or sometimes twice a week. Ever the sleuth, I made note of the next meeting, scheduled for the following Wednesday at 6, and smiled. Bingo.
The next several days flew by as first I was on a high then started wondering about my sanity. How could I find anything out without giving myself away? Do that and I just might be looking for work. The unemployment line is not the place to properly provide for a family.
It wasn't until I realized that the custodial closet was adjacent to Morty's office that I could formulate a plan, one which would keep me undercover while checking out what was going on in Morty's office. The custodians didn't start their work until after 9 p.m., which meant the closet would be a secure place to eavesdrop...if I could hear through the wall.
That night I walked through the area Monday night at 5:30, waving at Morty when I went past the open door of his office. It was mere coincidence that most in our office worked 8 to 4:30. Nobody else was around at this hour. I checked the custodian's closet door, found it unlocked, and snuck inside. My alibi was that I was looking for some wood polish for my desk, so I left the door unlocked and quietly stood.
Voila! I could faintly hear Morty's voice on the phone. It wasn't as if I was in the same room, but I could make out the gist of his conversation. That sparked me to consider returning on Wednesday night to see if I could hear any incriminating conversation between Morty and the representative(s) of the Anod Corporation.
Time flew by as I fixed all my brainpower on the upcoming meeting.
Late Wednesday afternoon Dona shocked me when, at about 4:30, she knocked on my office door and stuck her head in. "Hi Jon, can you look over this report for me? I value your input," she said with a melting smile. "No urgency, I have to have it done for Morty by the end of the week. Let me know what you think."
"Sure, Dona, I will get right to it. Give me a little time and I will have it right back to you."
"No hurry," she replied. "I'm leaving for the night, so tomorrow would be more than fine."
Tomorrow? Tomorrow? What about tonight? If she was the mystery corporation meeting with Morty, how could she do that if she left? After saying good night Dona left, and I watched her pretty behind sashay toward the stairwell. I quietly shadowed her as she walked toward the stairs toward the front entrance. I watched from the mezzanine as she talked to Bill Johnson outside the front door, laughed at a story or joke, then made her way to her car parked in the front lot. As she drove off my bubble burst.
So much for being a sleuth, I thought as I went back to my office. I guess I had just a vivid imagination.
A little more than hour later I was packing up when it struck me. What if her leaving was a facade? What if she returned and parked in the back lot, where I saw the two parked last week?
I walked the floor and looked out the back window, and sure enough her car was parked where it had been the week before!
Back on plan, I quietly walked back toward Morty's office, noticing his door was closed, and slipped inside the custodian's closet. This time I locked the door from the inside, and made myself comfortable on the floor. I listened, but didn't hear anything from Morty's office. At least not until hearing a throaty female laugh.
While I couldn't see in, I could heart the faint sounds of laughter coming from Morty's office. After a bit that laughter was replaced by a female moan.
It was Dona, no doubt about it.
"Oh, Morty, that feels so good," I heard her coo. "Ohh, don't stop."
I don't know what he was doing, but I could imagine the endless possibilities.
Luckily, though, I didn't have to imagine, as Dona's voice was clear.
