3/17/19 Β©2018
1939 words
15 minute read
*
Your mind races when your boss calls you into his office on a Monday morning. Really not like him. He's all seize the day, motivation Monday and all. It personally drives me a bit bonkers. I'm betting this is about the Henderson Account. Looks like I lost a big client there. I better stop at the ladies' room and look my best for this. Looking in the mirror I fix my messy bun to look a little sexier, smooth out the business blue shift dress with the large metal zipper up the back. Maybe, another inch unzipped at the hem. Not bad for someone with twenty years in the business. I gave my lucky black stilettos a polish, as I went over the plan -- the statistics and why Henderson left the firm. I thought about who might fill Henderson's spot from my prospect list. I wanted this to be foolproof and go off without a hitch. The old guy would never know what hit him when I was done smooth-talking the situation. I was ready for whatever he had in mind.
I took the elevator up one floor to his office suite. The man needed his quiet and luxuries all to himself. He said it gave him the power, helped him manage others. I suppose it did. It also kept him from the others. The many ogling others. The elevator door closed behind me and I tapped on the wood and steel door before entering.
"You rang, Sir," I said.
"Yes, Ms. Gram, come in, have a seat," he motioned to the large black leather sectional near the stone fireplace away from the windows. I sat in the ultra-modern Barcelona chair in front of his desk overlooking the downtown view. No sense making it easy for him. He rose and shut the door. I heard the click and the elevator shut down. I swallowed hard. He meant business.
"Something you neglected to tell me, Leona?"
"I didn't want to spoil your weekend, Mr. Gram. But, yes, the Henderson account is closed. There is no getting it back. I've tried, even put a team on it. But I assure you, I have everyone including myself working on our prospect lists to replace the loss. It is just a matter of a few days and we will be right where we should be." I watched as he slowly took a seat behind his desk placing his hands behind his neck and crossing those long legs. Ankle on knee giving himself plenty of space.
"Can't decide if I should punish you or reward you for your plan. I do recall you saying if you ever lost the account I could spank you."
"Just sales chatter, Mr. Gram. But so long as you don't fire me, perhaps I should allow it to be your decision." I stood up, turned around, and straddled the armless chair feeling the cold steel against my bare inner calves. I bent forward and heard him rise from his chair. His quick steps toward me beating to the rhythm of the zipper pull tab swaying back and forth just below where he wanted to be. I was certain he could see the lack of panties. Perhaps that is why he rushed forward and stood between me and the desk. The brief warmth of sun sadly blocked. He played with the pull tab of the zipper.
"You know the other buildings can see you. The old coot Merriweather even has a telescope for such events."