Author's note:
I hope you enjoy this work, if you are offended by, Lesbian or Non-Consensual content then I suggest you not read it. If you do decide to continue reading, well I hope you enjoy what I have put together. I always strive to provide the best product to my readers. With that in mind, I did contact a few editors hoping they could look this story over before I posted it. Unfortunately I never heard back so I have moved ahead without one. I have done my best to proof this story but I am only one man so please be patient. If you do find a typo or two I apologize and hope that they do not disrupt your experience.
The Sara Evens Chronicle
~1~
Sara Evens sat in her office fuming. She had spent the better part of year, eight months working on the Peterson deal and Johansson had shot down her proposal without even hearing her out. He gave the deal to Parker and had even had the nerve to make a snide comment about how she was dressed. As if that had anything to do with her ability's, besides his secretary dressed like a slut and if the office rumors were true she was one.
She looked at the clock it was nearly midnight. She had ordered food a few hours ago but barely touched it. She was under orders to turn over all documents to Parker by eight am. It was all together and ready by five but Sara wanted to take a minute to go over it all one last time, hoping to schedule a last minute meeting in the morning, and save her job. Of course, this was all just an attempt to avoid what would be the next obvious question. Where was the money?
It had all started by accident, Tommy had just broken off their engagement – another sacrifice for the company – and Sara was looking for a little comfort. She ordered a flimsy negligee online, for some stupid reason had used the company system, and billed it to a client. It was nearly a week before she realized the mistake, and by then it was too late cancel the order. From there she ordered another item and another, before she knew it her small apartment was filled with stuff she didn't need and hadn't paid for.
She had contacted a lawyer and he told her how long she could go to prison. Best case Sara would do a year for each item, worse case ten. The math on that came out to nine hundred years in prison. Even if Sara was aloud parole, after the mandatory twenty-five percent of the term Sara would if she was lucky get out when she was almost sixty. She rubbed her neck and moved to the window.
Sara had a good view from her corner office and wasn't looking forward to losing it. She moved back to her desk and started going back through the paperwork. Her eyes were getting heavy as she stared at the columns and rows of seemingly endless spreadsheet. Leaning her head back Sara closed her eyes and with realizing it fell asleep
Harassing the early morning cleaning crews was a mistake, if Sara hadn't yelled at them for entering her office when she was in early they would have woken her seeing her head back her white silk blouse wrinkled and her skirt hiked up three or four inches higher then was appropriate. Instead she was startled awake three hours later when her secretary arrived. The young woman was sweat but Sara had always thought she was a bit naive and would never make it beyond dictation and filing.
Tiffany closed the door harder then she meant to and startled Sara; Sara shot up in her chair and nearly fall to the floor. Recovering Sara smoothed her skirt and pushed it back down to just below her knee. Giving Tiffany the once over Sara did everything she could not to roll her eyes. Tiffany was in a black skirt that fit her like a second skin, Sara assumed she was wearing a thong since there were no visible panty lines – the requirement to wear underwear was a policy that Sara herself had gotten instituted. Her blouse was a thin pale blue satin that was just a step above translucent. The black lace bra that held her ample D cup breast hinted at visible.
Sara moved some papers around her desk looking for her car keys. Sara had gotten out of the habit of carrying a purse. Finding her keys she turned her attention back to Tiffany, "I need you to call Rossum and request a meeting for early for a meeting for ten, I am going to run home and change real quick, stall Parker as long as you can with turning over these documents."
Tiffany nodded and scurried out her heels clicking on the hard wood floors just outside Sara's office. As the door closed with a soft click Sara looked over to a small mirror in the corner of her office her silk blouse did not hold up will over night. Wednesday she has a disastrous meeting with the board and Thursday morning she will be seen slinking out of the office in rumpled clothes.
Thinking today couldn't get any worse Sara grabbed the keys and started for the door when Tiffany burst in a look of near panic across her face. "I just got off the phone with Mr. Johansson."
Sara let out a sigh and closed her eyes before speaking "I meant for you to call Rossum."
Tiffany sounding as if she was ready to hyperventilate continued "I did Ma'am no one answered."
"What do you mean no one answered his secretary is top flight she is always there." Sara said as she started for the door.
"I don't know Ma'am, But as soon as I set the phone down Johansson called, personally and told me he wanted to see you right now."
Sara looked at her shirt again and felt a wave of fear, just what she needed show up this morning wearing what she wore yesterday, if he didn't like it yesterday he would like it less today. She set her keys back down and holding her head high started to the elevators. Passing through the office was a test in fortitude; every secretary on the floor had her eyes glued to Sara. Even for a multi-national at JR&H news traveled fast. While her fellow analysts stayed in their offices – doing their best to keep the appearance of being above gossip – every door was open.
Sara had stepped on more than a few colleagues on her way up and walking now felt like hitting each of them on the slide back down. She reached the elevator and pressed the button. A low hum came from the door as the cables and pulleys pulled the elevator to the fifteenth floor. The longer it took the more Sara felt every pair of eyes on the floor boring into her back. There was a slightly off-key ping and the doors slide open. Parker was standing just inside the elevator a big sleazy grin on his face.
He was at that moment the polar opposite of Sara his suit was crisp and perfectly tailored. Standing before her Parker looked like he had just awoken refreshed from a long rest. Stepping out the elevator Parker moved to the side holding the doors for Sara as she stepped in. "I was going to get with Tiffany about transferring that paperwork over to me."
Smiling his sick smile Parker released the door. And as the door slid closed Sara found herself alone with her thoughts set to the synthetic tones of elevator Muzak. Sara smoothed her skirt and made sure her blouse was neatly tucked in. She knew it was but couldn't resist the nervous habit. Running her fingers through her hair she wished she had thought to grab a scrunchie or even a rubber band on her way out. The elevator pinged again and the doors opened onto the executive level. A small desk sat just outside the elevator doors with a stern looking older woman seated behind it.
Sara had only been to the top floor once and for the life of her could not remember the woman's name. She scanned the edge of the desk hoping for a nameplate but none as present. The woman did not introduce herself. The elder woman simple sat looking at Sara, waiting. As the moment drew itself out Sara started to feel her stomach churn, the moment she started to speak the woman cut her off "Mr. Johansson's office is at the far end of the bullpen."
Nodding and moving past Sara got a creepy feeling from the woman. Glancing back she could see the woman's eyes in the mirrored elevator doors following her. The reflections of their eyes met for a moment and Sara saw a look of perverse pleasure flash in the woman. The executive floor was layed out surprising similar to the analyst's floor. The middle of the room as filled with secretaries with large offices ringing the room. Dead center in the room was a large glass walled conference room. Nearing Johansson's office Sara could see that his secretaries desk was empty cleared off all but a phone and a rolodex. That at least explained why he had called personally. The door was cracked slightly and Sara could here muffled voices inside,
One she recognized as Johansson but the other was unfamiliar. A quite knock hushed the voices and pushed the door open a tiny bit more. Johansson's gruff voice called out for Sara to enter and as she pushed the door open, she felt her stomach knot and a cold chill run through it. Sitting across from Johansson was a uniformed Police officer, he was older but still a good twenty years younger than her boss. His face was clean-shaven, but his uniform was wrinkled giving off the impression that he was at the end off his shift.