Our company just got out of Chapter 11 and there was a big reorganization in all the top jobs. A lot of our big guys are out looking for work. A lot of little guys like me are looking too. I got lucky. I'm still here but I'm not sure for how long and I'm sweating it out. The new brass arrives tomorrow. Some guy named BB Taylor that I've never heard of.
My girlfriend -- almost fiancée -- survived too and if we make it to next year we plan to get married. I was at her apartment finishing up spaghetti and Chianti -- my favorite to eat and hers to fix because it's so simple.
"Safe so far," Betty said. "Most of the people we're gonna lose have been lost already."
"Yeah, but there'll be a few more," I said. "It all depends on this guy BB Taylor."
"Who is he?" Betty asked. "What have you heard about him?"
"Nothing -- nada -- except he's from back east. The Delaware office I think."
"You remember my friend Bridget?" Betty asked. "She moved to the Delaware office last year. She'll know something."
Betty looked at her watch. "It's not too late to call her."
She grabbed the phone and went into the living room. I picked up the dishes, rinsed them off, and put them into the dishwasher. When I got in the living room Betty was nodding her head as she listened to what sounded like a long story from Bridget.
"Oh Jesus!" Betty said.
Then I listened to one side of a complicated conversation with long pauses while Betty listened, fascinated, to the answers to her questions.
"Oh my God!"
"How many guys?"
"That's hard to believe!"
"And what if a guy won't?"
"What happened to him?"
"Oh shit!"
"How could she do that?"
"How long does she keep 'em?"
"They do okay afterward?"
"All of them?"
When the conversation was over Betty sat there in silence for a minute and then looked at me, lovingly studying my face.
"I wish you were not so damn good looking. God you're handsome! Gorgeous is a better description. You're just luscious!"
She got my attention. "Are you going to stop trying to turn me on and tell me about this guy?"
"It's not a guy. BB Taylor is a gal. She's 45 years old and she's a cougar!"
"A cougar as in ... " I paused.
Betty continued. "As in a middle aged broad who likes to fuck handsome young guys just like you. You're 25 and that's perfect for her."
"Tell me what you learned," I said.
"To start with she's a very good executive -- that's why she survived the reorganization and moved up. Her only weakness is her need for handsome young studs. She doesn't care if they're married or single. If she wants a guy, she's gonna fuck him for a couple of months and then move on to someone else. If he doesn't want to fuck, she figures out a way to fire him. The gals at the Delaware office joke about it. 'Fuck 'em or fire 'em" is what they say. And baby, you are cougar meat -- young, handsome, hot, and ready."
I was astonished. "You gotta be kidding!"
"I'm not kidding. She's a predator. And some gals get in trouble too. If she thinks the guy she wants is sweet on a gal -- that gal gets fired first. And with the situation the company's in right now nobody's asking any questions as long as the brass delivers the bottom line. And BB delivers."
I thought about my position. "Look, Betty, I just moved up to Special Assistant to the Director. I'm gonna have to work directly under BB."
Betty nodded and then said sarcastically, "In the daytime maybe. But if Bridget's right I have a hunch BB will want you to work directly over her at night."
"That's not funny!" I said.
"I didn't mean it to be funny," said Betty. "I don't want the man I love fucking some fat, horny 45 year old broad. And I don't want the man I love fired because he refuses to fuck the ugly bitch. Jobs like yours are nonexistent today."
"How do you know she'll hit on me?"
Betty laughed, shaking her head. "Oh sweet baby, that's why I love you so much, you don't know how delicious you are. I worry enough about sexy, better-looking broads my age stealing you. Hell -- I can think two of our gals who are ready to bend over and take it from you in the supply room. Trust me. BB will hit on you."
"So what do I do?"
"First you gotta pretend you don't know me. I'm just a gal working down the hall. Don't even speak when we pass each other. Second if BB hits on you ... check that ... when BB hits on you, just act friendly and go along, no matter how fat and ugly she is. I don't want you fired."
"Maybe I can pretend to be gay?"
Betty burst out laughing. "Haven't you noticed how the girls in the office look at you? Sometimes they just sit and stare at you. Just like you're good enough to eat! The horny bitches! BB will see that right off."
"Are you telling me to fuck her?"
Betty scrunched up her face as if she were in pain. "I don't want that ugly bitch to get you in her bed! Not even once! I don't know if I could take it for several months. But according to Bridget she will drop you after a few months. Then she'll leave you alone when she gets another guy."
"Are you telling me to fuck her?"
"I don't want you to fuck her! The bitch! Fat horny bitch! But I don't want you to lose your job. I want to marry you next year just like we planned. Shit! Double shit!"
"Are you telling me to fuck her?"
Betty looked down at the floor. She was hurting inside. Then she gave a big sigh.
"Yeah. I guess I'm telling you to fuck her." Betty felt bad.
But, she felt a lot worse the next morning. The entire staff was called into the big conference room to meet and hear BB Taylor. BB was a stunning brunet, five seven, 115 pounds, perfect hair, perfect make-up, great tits and legs, modestly dressed in a very attractive professional outfit, and 3-inch heels to hold up a fabulous figure. She commanded the room. She was in total control.
BB could have easily passed for early thirties -- not the 45 year-old I knew she was. Betty was sitting in the back of the room with a totally stunned expression on her face, staring at BB, as she listened to her introductory remarks.
Later, BB's secretary summoned me into her big, corner office.
"Barry, just call me BB," she said extending her hand. "We'll work better that way. Well, how did I do?"
Shit! Now what do I say? She missed a couple of important things I thought she should have mentioned. What do I do? Tell her? She's supposed to be good. You don't get good by getting mad at the truth. A voice inside my head told me to just do my job.
"Well," I said, "I was surprised you didn't mention the lawsuit with Curtis Corp. We're gonna win that, but the staff might use a little reassurance. And sales are up. They needed to hear that too."
I waited for her to get mad. She smiled. "I got lucky! You're good! I should have covered both of those things. And you're not afraid to tell me I missed 'em. I like that too. This morning I want you to jot down what you see as our top priorities in the next quarter. I've got some reading to do. Then we'll do lunch and you can brief me."
I already had the list she wanted but I double-checked it. On our way to the elevator Betty passed us in the hall. I acted as if I didn't know her. She still had that shocked look on her face. She knew I was taking BB to lunch. Lunch went well. BB was happy with my work and we spent several hours that afternoon with stacks of paper in her office. At the end of the day, BB stopped me as I was leaving.
"There's a nice new restaurant that I want to try. Are you busy Friday night?"
I remembered what Betty had said about being friendly. "No."
"Why don't you pick me up and take me to dinner? Sevenish?"
"Sure BB. I'll do that."
I didn't go home -- I headed for Betty's apartment. When I got there she had been crying. Her eyes were red. I didn't get a chance to speak.
"The bitch! She's not fat - she's good looking. I was expecting a beat up old broad. She could pass for 32! The bitch! That figure! Shit! Her tits are bigger than mine! Her hips! Did you see her hips? The bitch!"
I took her in my arms and kissed her but she was crying too much for a real kiss.
"Did she hit on you?"
"Well ... she ... "
"She did, didn't she? On the first day! I told you she would. What did she do?"
"She ... well ... I'm taking her to dinner tomorrow night."
"The bitch! An expensive restaurant and she's gonna pick up the check. Then when you take her home she's gonna invite you in for a drink. And then she's gonna ... she's gonna ... the bitch!" Betty was screaming.
"Honey, I'll call and cancel if you want."
"And get fired?"
"What do you want me to do?"
Betty just cried and stared at the floor. Then she embraced me and kissed me softly. Still sobbing she led me to the couch and we sat down.
"What do you want me to do?" I repeated.
"You gotta fuck the bitch and you gotta do it right! I was afraid if she was fat you might have trouble getting it up -- now, I don't think that'll be a problem. Shit! Double shit!"