Note:
Many thanks to Rex Brookdale for laser-focused editing: catching many errors, and helping to improve the story flow.
Sweat beaded her forehead. Suzette Winters watched the dark-skinned businesswoman stride across the office floor, the loud click-click of her heels breaking up the background of murmuring voices and ringing phones.
I really should have been working on my resume this morning
, she thought glumly. With a resigned sigh, she watched the Director of Operations come nearer and nearer, the focused stare matching her purposeful gait.
"Ms. Winters, come with me please."
The Director was always polite, but had made it quite clear who ran the office, and public firings were not unheard of at In Your Face©️ Marketing, LLC.
Suzette nodded and rose from her chair, following the Director back across the floor -- the clicking of those black heels now sounding like thunder in her ears.
She had looked up to Rosita Rivera when she was first hired. The older woman -- albeit less than ten years -- seemed to have it all: authority, grace, and beauty. Ms. Rivera was always put together, managing to always look like she'd be right at home on the cover of Vogue or Vanity Fair. Her conservative outfits did a good job covering up her assets, but there was just no way to completely obscure her generous bust, bubble-butt, and generally curvaceous figure.
The director met regularly with the man they were on their way to meet. Their afternoon meetings in his office were the subject of some speculation among the staff; not that Suzette was a gossip, but one couldn't help but overhear the tittle-tattle around the office. If even half of what she had heard was true they were violating each other more than the HR policies.
As they walked, Suzette found her mind seeking any distraction. Scanning nervously with her peripheral vision, her eyes fastened onto the rhythmic sway of Rosita's wide hips; a warm tingling began in her nethers. She wondered what color panties she wore, scrunched between that austere pencil skirt and mahogany skin ... Shaking her head, she refocused on her fate.
Daddy's going to kill me.
Her father had explained the strings he'd had to pull to get her this internship. "Don't you know I'm doing what's best for you? Don't fuck this up like everything else." His strident voice ringing in her ears, her thoughts drifted back to her experience at the company. Persuading people to want to buy something ... She had been so confident in the beginning, surely it couldn't be too hard?
Suzette had been lost from day one. Her marketing campaigns, unlike the company name, were too passive. They'd found little success with the Gen Z demographic: the 18-25 year olds. Within three months she had already been removed from two accounts. She had struggled on with her remaining accounts in silence. What kind of marketer would she be if she needed help, after all?
I'll never win.
Following Ms. Rivera towards the CEO's office, Suzy shivered in the cool, conditioned air. She had only met him once, but she could remember the intimidating stare and broad shoulders of Kingston Dunne. He was not one to disappoint nor to suffer fools. She fought to suppress her visible quaking as the click-click of Ms. Rivera's heels crossed the threshold into Mr. Dunne's hardwood-floored office.
She'd been too nervous to focus the last few days, spending most of her time staring at the charts of the ad campaign's low reception rates, despondent. Her neck itched with beaded sweat and she pulled anxiously on her collar ...
Get me out of here!
Kingston Dunne looked up from his papers as they entered, frowning at his buxom brunette director, and the petite younger woman looking pale and nervous. He took in Suzette's crisp navy jacket layered over a white top, along with a tight black skirt and black pumps. Sizing her up,
... Mmmmhmm. Rosy does have good taste.
Full, pouting lips turned downwards -- she was obviously uneasy about being summoned --
those lips need something in between .
.. His unchanged expression belied his drifting ideas. Blonde hair falling to her shoulders, she stood a bit back from his desk; looking every bit the spoiled, rich bitch she was ...
Silence stretched out between them until, "Y-you... wanted to see me, sir?" She swallowed audibly, trying to unstick her suddenly-thick tongue and gummy mouth.
The president stood up and indicated one of the two leather chairs facing his ornate desk.
"Suzette Winters. Thank you for coming." Looking over her shoulder he saw the operations director give him a wink. "Suzette, is it alright if I call you Suzy?" He watched her open her mouth to respond but he cut her off, his tone hardening as he went on, "Suzy, I have to be honest, your numbers aren't great. They aren't even good." He let the silence linger for a few moments, then continued brusquely. "This is a problem. Capital P, problem."
God, I love his dom voice,
Rosita thought, feeling moisture join the heat already between her legs.
Suzette looked away, unable to keep eye contact as Kingston stared her down. She wanted to defend herself, to justify it somehow. "But it's not my..." she trailed off as he continued to stare. She smoothed and patted down her skirt, as much to keep herself distracted as anything else. "I ..." She swallowed and began again. "I can see how that would be an issue, sir."
He stood again and faced the window overlooking 52nd Street, giving both women an opportunity for a long look at his well-toned backside. Speaking to the window, he asked, "You've been with us for... how long?"
Suzy started to respond but the operations director was quicker. "Just over two months, sir."
"Thank you Ms. Rivera," he replied smoothly, still facing away from them. "I won't lie to you Suzy," he continued, "this is your third strike. Things aren't looking good for you." He spun back to face her and returned to the desk, still standing. "We've tried to support you throughout your time here, but your campaigns just aren't In Your Face©️ material."
A splotchy red blush had bloomed and spread across Suzy's face at the sound of Ms. Rivera talking over her. She looked up as she listened to him continue, seeing his assets but not in the mood to appreciate them; she felt herself wilting, and hated herself all the more for it.
She'd been here nearly eight weeks and all she'd done was fuck it up.
She started at his quick turn and journey back to the desk, shrinking into her chair as he continued.
"You were supposed to get those young idiots excited about buying soft drinks. I could do it in my sleep."
Oh god, they're firing me.
Her breath seized , then whooshed out as she began to panic.
Goddammit Suzy! You just love to fuck it up!
