No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Watching the Paris 2024 Olympics on TV gave me flashbacks to my nightmare in the lead up to London 2012. I almost lost my marriage and my job because I did a favour for someone I took pity on. The saying `no good deed goes unpunished' was certainly true in my case. How you would have got out of my predicament?

Back in 2011 I was sales manager for an industrial flooring company. Our premium product was floorings for sterile situations, like hospital theatres and clean rooms. I was chasing a big order to supply a company managing drug testing rooms to analyse athletes' pee samples for the London Olympics. It came down to us and another bidder. The customer challenged us both to prove ourselves. All I needed was a bit of money to build a pilot testing room for a UK athletics qualifying event. The Finance Director had been avoiding me all week because every time I saw him, I asked where my twenty grand was. I expected good news when he came into the sales office on Friday afternoon.

"Have you got my money, Jim?"

He wiped the smile off my face. "No, I haven't Adam, and I don't think you will get it either. I've got something else for you, though. A new member of staff. A genuine talent."

Not the response I was looking for. I was instantly wary. "I don't need another salesperson. You agreed Angela is doing well on probation. The team is up to speed."

"I'm sorry, Adam. I've made an executive decision. Simon will be with you on Monday morning."

Over the weekend, I mellowed. I'd give Simon a chance, thinking it would win Jim around to the athletics job, if I did him this favour. At 5 to 10 on Monday morning, in slouched a 28-year-old, skinny, pasty faced, casually dressed bloke. He wasn't busting a gut to impress his new boss. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. What's worse, Simon had a condescending, shit-eating grin I knew wouldn't go down well with customers.

"Hello, I'm Simon Grayson." He leaned over my desk to shake hands.

I gave him a fixed smile. "Hello Simon, I'm your boss, Adam Saunders, and you're an hour late." His grin slipped as he made a half-hearted apology. "So, what brings you to sales Simon?" I was curious what Jim had seen in this character.

"I've been working in distribution for the last couple of years, but I don't see that as me; I'm more of a people person. I think I could thrive in a sales environment, given the right opportunities."

He was full of himself and needed taking down a peg. "Simon, being successful in sales is about making your own opportunities. I'm not looking for order takers, I need people who can go out there and grow the business, get us into new markets. Can you can do that for us?"

The penny dropped that whatever Jim promised would only go so far. Simon straightened up, looked me in the eye. "I'm prepared to work hard, just give me a chance to prove what I can do."

I introduced him to a couple of my sales guys and we drew up a short list of companies he could work on. I tried him out on a few phone calls. Some were courtesy calls to long-term customers to introduce a new member of staff; others were prospects where I would hold him to his word to see if he could build relationships and win new business. Simon listened in on Angela getting an existing customer up their order. I was thrilled for her, but felt apprehensive about being able to keep her at the end of her probation; if Simon was on my head count. We recapped at the end of the day. Simon said he'd enjoyed it and was looking forward to starting work properly tomorrow.

After he left, I phoned a mate in distribution. "What's the story on, Simon Grayson?"

I didn't like Harry's news. "He's landed with you, has he? Simon was with us for two years. After a couple of weeks, he acted like he owned the place. He was not good at his job and not well liked either, but he seemed to have the boss's ear. Frankly, we were pleased to see him go when he said he was being poached by sales. Sorry you got lumbered with him."

"Harry, he was not my choice."

"Be careful, Adam. There is something odd about that bloke."

I was even more curious about the relationship between Simon and my boss Jim. I would have to be careful because this was not straightforward. I had been stitched up and didn't know what I had done to deserve it.

The next day I got in at 8.30, surprised to see Simon, suited and booted and packing out his desk. On the corner was a big framed photograph of an attractive brunette in her early thirties. I looked closer and almost jumped back in shock. I remembered where I had seen her before. He noticed me looking at the photo.

Simon smiled. "That's my wife April, stunning, isn't she?"

I nodded in agreement. "Have you been married long, Simon?"

He sounded like a teenager. "Just three years and the novelty has not worn off yet. She is the centre of my world."

"I'm thrilled for you both." I turned and went to my desk.

I'd met April at the office Christmas party a few months before. I'd gone with my wife, Rachel. It was a black-tie affair, something she didn't like, but we'd had a rough time recently and needed to a chance to relax.

Rachel's mother was very ill with cancer and the doctors had given her 12 months tops. She felt duty bound to nurse, but her mum wouldn't come and live with us. My wife stayed with her five days a week, coming home at weekends, when her sister took over. I wasn't happy with the situation, but how could I tell Rachel she couldn't care for her dying mother? We tried not to argue at the weekends, but it was stressful trying to be calm and pleasant to each other just because we had so little time together. Our love life suffered too. The enforced absence created distance between us, and by the time we relaxed, it was time for Rachel to return to her mother's place on Sunday night.

The office Christmas party was a rare opportunity for us to socialise. You can imagine how I felt when Rachel got an emergency call from the temporary nurse saying her mother had another turn. She was full of apologies as she took the car. "It's only 10 o'clock Adam. You stay and have a good time. You can have another drink as you're getting a taxi home." I grunted something conciliatory, and she gave me a peck on the cheek and left.

I'd finished the best part of a bottle of champagne by the time couples were dancing. The atmosphere had changed, and I felt out of place.

"Your face looks like you've lost a pound and picked up a penny."

I'd been in a trance and didn't realise someone had joined my empty table. I raised my head, following the black, strappy high heels, sheer black stockings and shimmering black evening dress up to its sequined halter neck bodice, amply filled by a stunning woman. She had bare shoulders and full smiling mouth, dark brown eyes and curly black hair. I smiled at her despite my woes.

She smiled. "Wow, if only I still had that effect on my husband."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to look you up and down like that, it was disrespectful."

"Not at all, it's nice to be appreciated." She sat on the chair next to me. The split in the evening dress opened, and it slid off her thigh, revealing her lacy stocking top and an inch of creamy thigh above. I couldn't help looking. She put a playful hand on my thigh. "I'm sorry, I hope I didn't embarrass you." She looked me straight in the eye with a teasing come hither expression, studying me.

I know my face it's unusual enough to make people do a double take. I'm the product of a father from Trinidad, and a mother from County Cork, I've got European features, curly black hair and coffee coloured skin, not untypical for a mixed-race kid, but I've never come across another with my hazel eyes. They gave me luck with the ladies as a teenager, and they were still working at 41, judging by the reaction of the woman in front of me.

"I better go before your wife comes back." She stood up to leave. My face was level with her crotch and the tiniest pair of knickers I'd ever seen were visible through her dress.

I looked up at her. "There's no need to go on that score. My wife had to leave. Her mother is not well."

"Oh dear. Her loss is my gain." She took my hand and led me to the crowded dance floor. Being pursued by an attractive woman was exciting. We found a space just as a fast number was finishing. The next record was a slow smoochy one. I made to leave rather than embarrass her, but she's pulled me against her and we slow danced. I'm six-two and even in heels her head was on my chest. I felt her whole body through the thin dress. She pulled me closer; thighs either side of one of mine. The heat of her pussy warmed my leg as we danced, then a sharp protuberance caught the inside of my thigh.

She looked up at me coyly. "I'm sorry if my suspenders are digging into your thigh."

I could not control my erection, but the lights were dim, and the floor crowded, so she was the only person to notice as she rubbed her thigh against my hard on.

She sighed. "Are you a golfer?"

The question nonplussed me. "Yes, how do you know?"

She giggled. "Because you've brought a wood with you."

I grinned and put my hand in the small of her back, bringing our groins together. "No, I think you'll find it is a nine iron."

She laughed again and took my hand and moved it down. It had a mind of its own, rolling over the cheeks of her arse. My fingers traced the tiny line of her thong, which perfectly bisected the globes. I cupped a cheek and my blood boiled. I knew what would happen if we spent more time together. Then the lights came back, and the DJ played an up-tempo number.

She went up on tiptoes and gave me a full-blooded kiss on the lips, slipping me her tongue for good measure. "That was fun. Thank you. I have to go; my husband is over there somewhere; he'll be organising a search party."

I looked into the distance to pick him out. When I turned back, she was gone. I searched for her in the sea of heads on the dance floor with no luck. The lights and noise were getting to me and I needed fresh air. I doused my face with cold water in the toilet. I'd had enough of the evening and went to find a cab.

Four months later, the mystery was solved. Her name was April, and she was the wife of my new salesman, Simon. Brilliant, just bloody brilliant. I guess it was my guilt at trying it on with April (although she instigated it), that made me put up with him for as long as I did. That's why I did the good deed which almost cost me everything.

*

It's Friday, two weeks later, and my day is not going well. My first call is from my wife telling me her stupid sister can't get it together to do the weekend shift until tomorrow, so she'll be back on Saturday morning. I grunted something noncommittal. I'm not even bothering to hide that I'm pissed off about the situation.

I start my one-to-ones with Angela. She's not pleased that despite her fantastic work, I may not be able to keep her on after probation. Budgetary pressures are a lame excuse because she knows Simon is on my head count now. I ask her not to do anything hasty, but if it comes to it, I'll give her a glowing reference.

Next up is Maureen. She manages a whole two minutes before she speaks her mind. "Simon acts like a know-it-all, but he knows fuck all, he's a liability boss." I give her some platitudes about him finding his feet and how we will all feel happier when he's bringing in new business, but she knows it's flannel. She hears me out and pauses for a moment. "There is something odd about that bloke. I don't know what it is, but I know he's a wrong' un. Be careful Adam, he will be nothing but grief for you."

She could see I shared her reservations. "Let's give him another couple of weeks. A chance to come good." I was trying to convince myself as much as Maureen.

Then I took a call from a customer Simon had upset by implying they were cheapskates. I placated him by explaining Simon was new, keen and naïve. Then bribed him by delaying this quarter's bill. That seemed to smooth his feathers.

At two o'clock, I am more than ready for Simon. I'll ask him how he feels the first two weeks have gone, set the record straight with some well-chosen feedback from customers and colleagues, get him to acknowledge he needs to pull his finger out and give him some advice on how to do it. Perhaps I'll even send him on interpersonal skills training. I'll give Simon enough rope, so if I have to give him the chop, there'll be no scope for him, or anyone else to come back at me.

My plan never gets off the ground. Simon comes in for his 1-2-1 and can't look me in the eye. I'm glad he knows he's in for bollocking. I let the silence hang for almost a minute before I ask him what's wrong. He wrong-foots me when he looks up pathetically, "It's my wife April. I think she's having an affair." I pause before asking if he has evidence, and he says it's just a feeling. I realise I've been holding my breath.

Simon fidgets in his chair. "I know I'm not doing very well and the people in the team don't like me; but I've got to make a success of this, Adam. April pushed me into sales. She has high aspirations and my salary in distribution will never meet them."

What could I do? I had to be sympathetic. I told him it's not all about money and he agreed.

"I thought if I was good at this job, she would treat me with more respect." Simon's eyes were moist, and he looked pitiful.

Although I didn't like him, I felt sympathy for this inadequate guy trying to live up to his pushy wife's expectations. I did not give his marriage good odds of surviving if it was hanging on his sales skills. My guilty thoughts returned to her outrageous flirting at the Christmas party. I owed him a chance. I got the conversation back on work matters. "Let's make the next two weeks better than last shall we, Simon? I'm sure we can improve April's esteem for you." It was a careless afterthought.

Simon smiled for the first time. "I was hoping to invite you and your wife to our house for dinner. If you could say some encouraging things about my progress; not an outright lie, just that I'm working hard and it will all come good. I'm sure that would help."

He looked so woeful I couldn't refuse outright. "That's a lovely idea, but my wife's away at the moment; nursing her sick mother." I didn't want my wife to meet April, who might hint at what happened at the Christmas party.

Simon was full of condolences. "Oh dear, sorry to hear that. Perhaps you could come by yourself? You might appreciate the company if you've been spending your evenings alone."

That seemed an excellent solution, both helping the guy out and avoiding my wife meeting April. "Okay, when did you have in mind?"

Simon was uncharacteristically proactive. "The sooner the better. How about tonight? I'll give April a call now."

I'd fill my free Friday night, and my wife would not be any the wiser. "You're on, Simon. I'll look forward to singing your praises to April." I should have heard the warning voice in the back of my mind, but I was preoccupied by the memory her pussy on my leg.

*

I was on their doorstep at 7.45, bottle of wine in hand. April opened it, dressed in a purple satin shirt and close-fitting trousers with a cook's apron over the top. "You're Adam!" She looked surprised. "Yes, and you're Simon's wife." We looked at each other. The attraction was tangible. I should have turned and left, heading Maureen's words. But my attention was focused on following April's shapely arse into the kitchen.

She spun around, and we almost collided. "Adam, I must apologise for the way I acted at the Christmas party. We argued earlier, and I had too much to drink when we got there. Did I behave outrageously? Do you forgive me?" Her little pout suggested her behaviour did not mortify her.

"No harm done April. I was not a wallflower myself. Less said the better, where other people are concerned." I looked for her agreement.

"Absolutely, Adam." April gave me a shy smile, and I wrote it off as the drink talking.

"Where is Simon?"

She rolled her eyes. "He's so keen to impress his boss, he's gone across town to a fancy off license for a special bottle of wine. He should be back soon."

I was embarrassed. "He didn't need to go to that trouble for me."

"He wants to impress you, Adam." Her casual hand on my chest made me think he was not the only one.

That was my cue. "Actually, it's you he really wants to impress, April. It's important you know he is doing his best in sales. It's all for you. You are the centre of his world; he told me so."

April turned to the cooker in exasperation. "If only he didn't balls things up all the time." Her shoulders dropped.

I turned her towards me before I thought better of touching her. "April, I'm giving him a chance, will you?"

She looked up at me. "Is that why he asked you to dinner, to plead his case?"

"No," I lied without conviction.

April smiled. "You're a considerate man, Adam. Will you help me?" She held up a wooden spoon. "Come and stir this sauce for me. Not like that, you need to get into the edges otherwise it will stick." She took my hand and showed me. We stood very close together at the cooker. I could smell her subtle perfume. Of course, she was tempting me. Neither of us wanted to break the moment or make the next move, so we stood in silence, stirring and enjoying the intimacy.

When the house phone rang, it jolted us like an alarm. I heard her end of the conversation.

"It's very noisy Simon, you've had what?"

"and what about the spare?"

"So why didn't you change it back then?"

"So, when will the AA pick you up?"

"Two hours, you're joking. Why do these things always happen to you? We are eating in ten minutes, or dinner will be ruined. You can get yours out of the oven later. Goodbye, Simon." She threw the handset on the counter. I gave her a moment to calm down.

"I'll go get him," I offered.

"No. He needs to bring the car back when the AA man gets a new tyre. Besides, if I see him now, we will just have an argument. Pour me a drink, Adam. Let's not talk about this for a while."

April served an excellent roast leg of lamb, and the two of us sat down to eat. I noticed she did not even set him a place. The food was great, and April was a wonderful conversationalist. I realised I missed company, by spending all my evenings alone during the week. Shameful as it was, neither of us pretended to miss Simon's absence. I sipped wine and water, but April took large swigs and was soon quite merry. When we finished, we sat looking at each other.

She put her hand on mine. "What would have happened if I had not skipped away from you at the Christmas party?"

"You know I would have taken you into another room and done something we both would have regretted." I admitted.

"I would not have regretted it." Her nails raked my skin. The sensation connected to my balls. "You are handsome and it would not be the first time I enjoyed a man of colour. Simon doesn't know that, of course," she admitted.

Despite all my instincts warning me to the leave it alone, I asked her when it happened.

"I was 21. Just after university, I went on holiday to the Caribbean with my parents. I thought I would be bored, but on the first day I met Linton from St Kitts. He worked at the hotel.

"What did he do?" I asked.

"Me," she giggled. "I'd never fucked so much before. He would come to my room between shifts and at the end of the evening. In the morning, I could barely walk to a sun lounger and recuperate before the next session."

I had a hard on at the image of a 21-year-old April being well fucked.

"My, it's hot in here." She stood up. Her nipples were erect and prominent through the satin shirt.

"Let me help you with the plates," I offered, rising and trying not to bring attention to my erection.