As always, this story is a standalone plot. No need to read the other stories in the series to understand what is happening in the story!
I hope that you enjoy it!
...
When Owen Novak entered Faria's office, he offered a firm, dry handshake and looked her directly in the eyes. It was a refreshing change: most of Faria's clients tended to be a lot more... furtive. After all, no one came to Faria unless they had truly shameful desires. That included Mr. Novak.
Owen was a tall, broad-shouldered man in his early thirties with close-cropped black hair and the kind of lean, powerful muscles that you get from working for a living rather than lifting weights. His cool blue eyes shimmered with quiet intelligence, but his brief greeting indicated that he preferred to keep his thoughts to himself. Faria decided that she liked Owen. He seemed like a hard-working, straight-shooting man. She wished that she saw more clients like him.
Faria cut straight to the matter at hand. "I understand you've been wronged, Mr. Novak. Tell me everything from the beginning"
Owen Novak stroked his chin with a wiry hand and sighed. "I run an entertainment business, Ms. Faria. Party planning. You name it, I can get it for you. I do catering, wait staff, bartending, DJs: the works. It's a tough business. And the worst part?" He leaned forward, his pale blue eyes sincere. "The clients."
Faria imagined the sort of people who would throw parties large and elaborate enough to require Mr. Novak's services. She grimaced and nodded her head in sympathy. Faria could afford to be picky when choosing her jobs, but even she had some horror stories of nightmare clients. "I'm assuming that we are here to discuss one client in particular." She said dryly.
"That's right," said Owen, "Blair Beaumont."
Faria held up a hand. "Before we continue, Mr. Novak, I believe you have brought along a picture of the woman in question?" Owen nodded and passed a glossy print across the desk to Faria.
The photo showed a woman on stage in front of a small, seated crowd outdoors, giving a presentation of some kind. Waves of soft brunette hair framed her face, which was caught in the middle of a confident, curvy smile. She had thick, well-manicured eyebrows and captivating hazel eyes, slightly tilted, long-lashed, and sparkling with some hidden humor, like she saw the world as a joke. Her features were delicate and lovely, and her expression was fixed with an arrogant poise that spoke of boundless and unearned self-confidence. She was modestly dressed in a sharp suit, but even the professional nature of her outfit couldn't hide her devastating curves. Blair Beaumont had thick, luscious hips that made you want to grab and pull them from behind. Turned to the side as she was, it was clear to see she had an ass that was big, round, and juicy enough to put a pornstar to shame. Her round, firm cheeks made for a squeezable, spankable, mouthwatering derriere that would look more at home oiled up and twerking on a stage somewhere than in the sensible dress pants they filled in the photo. Faria couldn't help but smirk a little as she turned her attention back to her prospective client. She could already see why this particular woman made Owen think of Faria's services.
"Go, on Mr. Novak. Tell me more."
Owen nodded sharply and continued. "Blair wanted the full experience. Full wait staff, open bar, tents, tables, chairs. It was a Hawaiian luau theme, God knows why. I just do what the client asks. But some of her demands were crazy. Get this!" He leaned forward, a look of incredulity on his face just remembering the request, "She asked... no, no... demanded that we fly an "authentic" roast pig in from Hawaii. Like I said, I don't ask questions, but I had to speak up on this one. I told her 'Ms. Beaumont, they have the same pigs and hot coals in Hawaii that we have here. You won't be able to tell the difference.' She wouldn't hear of it. She almost took my head off. That's the kind of girl she is, Ms. Faria: a sharp tongue and no common sense to go with it."
Faria nodded thoughtfully. All good information for later, if she decided this was worth her time. For Faria's particular techniques to work, she needed to have an accurate picture of who her target was as a person. And if what Mr. Novak was saying was true, it sounded like Blair was a bit of a spoiled brat.
"So I got the damn Hawaiian pig," continued Owen, heat creeping into his voice, "I found hula dancers, which isn't as easy as it sounds. I threw a spectacular party. One of my best ever. It was my biggest contract of last year." The square-jawed man leaned back in his chair, suddenly looking tired. He ran a hand through his hair distractedly.
"And then?" prompted Faria.
Owen sighed. "Well, to be blunt, then Blair didn't pay me. I sent an invoice. Then another. I called. I emailed. Finally, I went to her office. I was as professional that day as I am right now. She screamed at me and insisted that I was harassing her. She made some sort of claim that I hadn't followed our contract, and therefore she didn't owe me for the party. Threatened to bring lawyers into things. It's not the first time that I've seen something like this. Sometimes clients will try to weasel out of their bills. But never on this scale. The whole thing almost sank my business. Every one of my employees had to take a pay cut, just so we could stay afloat. I had to take out a second mortgage on my house. I'm only now barely righting the ship a year later."
"But why do you need my help?" asked Faria with a curious tilt of her head, " Surely this is a matter better left to the courts. It sounds like you would have a slam dunk case."
Owen's lip twisted up into a bitter sneer. "You would think. Blair's daddy has deep pockets. The Beaumonts have a team of lawyers who are total sharks. The first lawyer I went to told me off the record that no one I could hire on my budget would be willing to fight that battle. He was right. The other lawyers I tried to contact wouldn't even return my calls."
Faria looked at the picture again. A spoiled little rich girl who thought Daddy's money made her untouchable. It did sound like the sort of case she liked. Her eyes traced the sweet round bulge of Blair's perfect ass. This target was interesting for other reasons as well.
Faria's eyes flicked back to Owen, who was staring at her with a hopeful, hungry expression.
"What is your goal here, Mr. Novak? How exactly would you like me to hypnotize Blair Beaumont?"
"I want her to pay me back of course, but more importantly, I want her to really learn the value of hard work. Make her understand what it means to have to sweat for a dollar." He said, a grim look in his eye.
Faria held his gaze. "It's not my business to teach young women economics, Mr. Novak. I provide a very specific kind of service. I think you want that service, and that's why you are here today. But you have to be honest with me."
An uncharacteristic blush crept into Owen's face as he gripped his knees and said in a hard voice, "... and I want to drill my cock deep into that bitch's fat ass until she squeals my name."
Faria's face broke into a wide, wicked grin. "That's better. I think I can accomplish all of those goals, provided your story checks out. I'm going to pursue this project further, Mr. Novak. The cost for this job is one thousand dollars."
Owen looked pleased and surprised, although still a little embarrassed from his forced confession. "Really, so little? I had thought..."
Faria shrugged. "Consider it professional courtesy, from one entertainer to another. I've had clients like Blair before."
Faria was already looking forward to her meeting with the curvy young Blair Beaumont.
...
Usually, Faria had to make some sort of plan to get her target into a one-on-one meeting with her, but arranging a meeting with Blair Beaumont took almost no planning or scheming at all on Faria's part. It turned out that Blair frequently held meetings with strangers.
It didn't take much digging to find out that Blair had started several businesses in the past few years, all of which she had rapidly run into the ground. A few years ago it had been an app that was supposed to match housesitters with clients. Last year had been an ill-defined venture that was supposed to "disrupt the travel industry". That probably explained the Luau-themed party, and the fact that the business rapidly collapsed probably explained why Blair was reluctant to pay Owen for his services.
The evidence of these discarded business plans could still be found online if you knew where to look. Faria had never been a business whiz (the demand for her talents meant that money was virtually a non-issue for her), but even to her the business plans looked poorly thought out.
Faria clicked her way down the hall of a pleasant office building, the location of the meeting she had set up with Blair. Faria was posing as a potential investor for Blair's latest venture: a "curated monthly gardening box". Whatever that meant. She had dressed for the part, a chic blazer and a pencil skirt long enough to be tasteful, but short enough to show off her long tan legs. Maybe the heels were a bit too tall to be strictly professional-looking, but why couldn't a girl have a little fun?
