"Only one more appointment, Mr Westgate! " Rosie sang in her nasal sing-song voice. She grabbed at her bag haphazardly, kicking her chair under the desk. "I've got to go and finish the cannelloni for my Alfonso!"
Patrick Westgate sighed, running his large hands over his shaved head to massage his temples. He knew a migraine was on the way. Rosie was his secretary- and not a particularly good one. She spent half of her day flicking through gossip magazines and the other half supporting the telecommunication industry by calling what seemed like every other middle-aged woman in the Melbourne Italian community.
However annoying her voice and general persona was, Rosie was family. She was the first person he had hired when he founded Westgate Creative almost sixteen years ago, and Patrick knew he'd never get rid of her.
Family or not- he especially hated when she made client appointments at 5.30pm on a Friday afternoon.
"PATTY!" a familiar voice boomed through the glass doors. "You old bastard!"
Patrick's face broke into a grin as all signs of the migraine dissipated. Being such a tall man, it only took three strides to reach his office door.
Patrick took in the sight of his old friend. Vic, short for Victor, had always been a tiny man. Standing at a very slight 5'2, Vic made Patrick feel like an absolute giant at his 6'1. Vic was looking rougher than the last time they had met at the school reunion- his grey short sleeved shirt was scruffy and unironed and he was wearing khaki cargo shorts that would be better suited to a camping trip.
Patrick slapped Vic on the back. 'You Vic, are the only one who gets away with calling me that nowadays." He smiled, motioning towards the trendy clear acrylic office chairs Rosie had insisted were professional looking. "Take a seat."
Vic lowered himself onto the chair uneasily. "What's the deal with the chairs?" he laughed, leaning forward. He turned his head towards the heavy black frame on Patrick's desk. "Shit Patty- is that the boys?!"
Patrick beamed inwardly, but didn't want to rub it in to Vic. He knew that Vic had always wanted a son, but it didn't seem to work out that way for him. "Yeah," he said proudly, unable to hide the warmth in his voice. "Scotty's almost 18, and Evans 12." He traced his fingers over the glass, knowing they would be waiting for him at home to start dinner.
Grinning, Vic took the frame from Patricks hands and studied it closely. "Robin has certainly stood the test of time, eh? I can't believe she actually married you!" He laughed heartily, teasing his friend.
Neither could Patrick. His wife was truly beautiful- in a natural, clean kind of way. Her soft brown curls cascaded down her neck in the photo, and her kind, bright-blue eyes were only slightly creased at the sides. She had looked after herself over the years- eating organically years before it was trendy and walking Huxtable, the family's Pug every night had worked wonders.
Vic smirked. "She obviously didn't realise you were such a slut back then!" Vic laughed, but barely contained his obvious envy.
Patrick chuckled. "That was a long time ago now, mate. We had some good times though, didn't we?" Nevertheless, he let his mind leisurely wander through the memory bank he only recalled upon now when he was in the shower alone. His mind always went to the same memory- Debbie, the nursing student. Debbie had been an absolute knockout- a slender, leggy redhead who had a penchant for white lacy knickers and playing the naughty nurse. The particular time Patrick routinely reminisced about was when Debbie invited another nursing student around for study and as it turns out, a threesome. Patrick never knew that second girls name but fucking hell, she could suck like you wouldn't believe.
Patrick felt his thick cock stir and begin to harden in his grey suit pants. He shifted in his high-backed leather executive chair and cleared his throat.
"So Vic, what can I do for you today?" Patrick said firmly, breaking the silence.
Vic placed his hands on his knees.
"It's my kid, Elodie. Remember her?" Vic asked, cocking his head to the side.
Patrick couldn't, but he nodded anyway. He knew he had a daughter about the same age as his son Scotty, but hadn't met her.
"Ever since Leah up and left me she's been real quiet- moody. Just finished high school and now she says she wants to go to art school in Sydney." Vic scrunched up his weathered face, like he was trying to work out why anyone would even think about going to art school. "I'm not the most lovey Dad, but I don't want the kid in a completely different state. She's only 18 for Chrissakes- too young to be in the city alone." Vic said sadly, sounding defeated.
Patrick sympathised with Vic as a father, but struggled to see what this had to do with him. Before he could ask, Vic continued.
"I've been trying to convince her that art school alone isn't the most practical option for a future career, and that she should stick around for a bit to get some practical work experience here in Melbourne...." Vic trailed off, meeting Patrick's eye.
Patrick instantly knew what Vic wanted, and sighed heavily. He could feel that migraine coming on again.
"Come on Patty- she won't get in your way, like I said, she's a quiet kid." Vic said quickly, studying Patricks pained expression. " If she was at all interested in engineering I'd have her in my office, but she really doesn't give a shit about her old man building bridges." He was begging now.
"And so," Patrick started slowly, "You thought that the creative department in my advertising agency would be a good fit?"
Vic shrugged. "Mate- you know I don't even really get what you do. I had to offer her something remotely creative, the kid was so determined to leave for that art school. You know what teenagers can be like."
Fuck. Patrick knew he could've told his friend that he couldn't help, but how hard would it be to have one kid around for a month or so watching the design process? He didn't want to upset Vic and have him tell the whole sorry, sordid story of his messy divorce again. It took him an hour to get through it last time and ended in a beer mug full of tears. Patrick wasn't going through that again, it was awkward enough the first time.
Vic looked into Patrick's almost black, intense eyes. He knew Patrick could be a stubborn prick when he wanted to. "Come on Patty", he pleaded.
"Yeah, Ok. Get her to come in on Monday." Patrick relented, pushing back on his chair. "But now get out of my office, unless you want me to change my mind." He grinned, extending his strong forearm to Vic and gripping his hand firmly.
He smiled at Vic as he left, but cursed himself inwardly. He hated having work experience students- even his own kid, Scotty, was a pain in the ass just hanging around the office. They pissed Rosie off too, asking her for work and interrupting her personal phone calls about Maria Anzanetti who is having an affair with Andreo Baccio and makes horrible biscotti and never sends a thankyou card after a visit.
Perfect. He'd get this Elodie girl to be Rosie's assistant- she'd be out of his hair, and Rosie might do some actual work for once.
What kind of name was Elodie, anyway?
**********************************
Patrick stepped off the elevator and then dead in his tracks.
That ass.
Bending over the printer fifteen metres away was a truly amazing ass. Perfectly heart-shaped, it came from a tiny waist and extended to deliciously full and rounded cheeks. Covered tightly in a black, high waisted skirt, the owner of this ass had to know it would get attention.
He let his eyes wander hungrily down to the very slim but shapely calves, and was mesmerised as one shiny patent stiletto slowly rubbed the calf of the other perfect leg.
Patrick instantly wanted to reach out and grab at it.
He loved it when there was a sales rep nearby. The software, stationary and printer companies always sent out the hottest little things to flirt and get Patrick to increase the spend on his account. For the most part they were pretty little distractions, but never disarming. Patrick never changed his orders, but would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the flirtation.
They'd upped their game, he thought to himself. They really do want my business.
Patrick went straight into his office- as hot as the sales rep was, she was still a sales rep. Any salutation would quickly turn into a conversation about his printing needs and an assurance that an increase in their order would solve all problems.
He shut the office door behind him, and sank into his leather chair. His mind was still lingering on the ass that was bent over so ready for him, that he could have taken it from behind right there on the printer. He felt himself stiffen at the thought. His hardened cock twitched against his hands folded in his lap, and ached to be stroked to the thought of the ass that reminded him of sexy 50's pinup girls.
I didn't start my own company to sit here with my dick in my hand, he admonished himself. Have some self-control and do some work.
It seemed for the rest of the day his office door was revolving- Rosie barged in multiple times, once to tell him about an appointment, once to complain about how cold the air-conditioning was, once to say she knew an air-conditioner service man in the Italian community who could come out and have a look at it, and once to thank-him for recognising her hard work and dedication by hiring her an assistant.
He'd forgotten about Elodie coming in, but was glad she had showed up for her father's sake. He hadn't met her yet, but the fact Rosie wasn't complaining spoke volumes for the girl, because Rosie could complain about anything.
'ROSIE!' Patrick called out from his office to his secretary, 'Why did you accept the appointment tomorrow with the Groves when you know I don't do lunch meetings?" He sighed exasperatingly.
He hated lunch meetings. Always such a wank-fest with clients, taking them out to lunch and plying them with alcohol, all to say yes to an advertising proposal they had most likely decided to accept before the meeting. He was far too straightforward for that.
Patrick preferred to use the weights in his office during his lunchbreak- pushing himself physically cleared the haze in his mind from the mornings work, and feeling the familiar tension in his muscles made him feel like a powerful man, in control.
Patrick had introduced Scotty to weights too- at almost 18, Scotty was a tall and well-built kid that needed something to focus his energy on. Despite his athletic frame, he didn't yet have much confidence and was generally awkward around girls. Patricks rationale was that he could put all the excess energy and hormones back into weights and hopefully gain some confidence at the same time. He didn't know what else to do- he himself had always been accused of arrogance, never a lack of confidence. He must be more like his mother.
There was no answer from Rosie. Bloody hell.
He sprang from his chair, ready to be firm with Rosie. He'd told her a million times about the lunch meetings, and a million times she had said it wouldn't happen again and then ignored him.
He stood over where Rosie should have been, but stopped when he noticed there was no one there.
"She's gone. She said she had to make the minestrone for her Alfonso." Said a soft, feminine voice from his right.
