Francine Minnelli watched the screen with intense scrutiny, looking for something—anything—that showed weakness. "Greatland Enterprises took Reynolds Aerospace because it fit our intention to grow. As the CEO, I have a responsibility to look beyond the next quarter and into the next decade. Reynolds Aerospace becomes a part of us just as we begin retooling to meet our future goals." She mouthed the last few words. She smiled and turned from the large, flat screen back to the laptop on her desk. "The shareholders will love that statement. I'll be sure to have it added to the film to be shown at the next shareholders' meeting," she thought.
She began tapping at her keyboard, but kept an ear to the television. "Another bold move in the short tenure of Francine Minnelli. Her rescue four years ago of struggling giant Greatland really made headlines. Now, she finishes the takeover of struggling Reynolds Aerospace, who fought the move tooth and nail. In the end, though, the 'Lioness' threw aside the doubters, prompting Reynolds Aerospace's now-former CEO and founder Jennings Reynolds to tell close friends quote, 'that bitch really doesn't know when to back down...we call her Frank over here.' No comment yet from Mizz Minnelli or Greatland Enterprises."
Francine stopped tapping at her keyboard. She slumped down in her chair with her mouth ajar. "Son of a...," she didn't finish. All of a sudden, the stress of the last three months' work hit her like a lightning bolt. The deal closure last night and the ensuing press conference tody left her with little time to relax and reflect on the torturous last few months that finally ended in a sweet victory. Along the way, though, she had really stepped on some people. Now, hearing Jennings Reynolds use such a sleazy, sexist comment toward her really felt like a kick in the gut.
She was doing her job. Doing what she was raised to do. Her father died six years ago and gave the reigns to her brother, who did little to shift the fortunes of Greatland. She couldn't believe when Ricardo Minnelli passed her over to give the head of the family company to her brother Leo. "My Francie is a lioness that will rip you apart!" She could still hear his voice cheer her on as she closed deal after deal. She remembered how bad she hurt at the reading of her father's will when controlling interest of Greatland was passed to Leo. Leo took two years to fail. She convinced the board to help her buy out her brother's share and fixed what her weak brother couldn't do. An image of her brother looking at her saying, "Dad always thought you were more man than I ever was," jolted her brain quickly.
She then thought about Richard. Her intense drive to take over Greatland from Leo pulled her marriage apart. She was so wrapped up in the power grab that Richard's last words to her were, "When did you get so cold?"
And now, "Frank. Frank?! What the hell am I supposed to do? Fuck him. FUCK HIM! FUCK ALL OF THEM," she raged in her head as her breathing began to increase and tears ran down her face." She turned her chair, bent over and put her face in her hands, resting them all on her lap as she began to sob. She needed this. She needed this release. The last six years of stress seemed to flow out of her all at once. She reminded herself that the office was empty, her assistant had left, and she could cry as loud as she wanted. She deserved it. It still didn't quell the pain she felt, nor did it dowse the memories that were burning her right now. The bottle would help with that. She pulled it from her desk, second drawer behind the partition, along with the glass that rested beside it. She noted half the bottle left. "It's enough. It's enough," she told herself.
Terry Stamford walked through the dimly lit corridors of the Minnelli Building doing his normal checks. Every other hour, he left Stanley, his older partner and supervisor, at the front desk as he made his forty-five minute rounds. He'd check to ensure the outer doors were locked and that the lights were on in the stairwells. He'd also check that separate office doors were locked. He finally reached the fifth floor, "the bigwig suites" he and Stanley called them, and did the same.
This job was a holdover job for Terry. He left Oklahoma City to come closer to home, to be near his parents, and frankly, to get as far as hell away from Marlee as he could. The divorce was as ugly as the reasons for it. Terry tried to shake the memory of him walking down the hall toward their bedroom and walking in on her fucking their neighbor. When he peeked through the crack of the door, Marlee was still wearing her uniform from waitressing at a local diner, but the skirt was collected around her waist. He could see her totally exposed ass and underneath its crack, their neighbor Matt's glistening cock was pistoning into her well-oiled pussy.
The memory would continue even with him trying to concentrate on his security checks. He remembered Marlee's beautiful 34 C tits protruding from between the opened seam that split the chest of her yellow waitress dress. Her tits would bounce up and down when Matt wasn't squeezing and sucking on her nipples. For some reason, his mind's eye would focus on her name tag, still attached to the uniform. It read "Rita". Then, the real painful part of the memory would start. Matt's voice. "You like that don't you Marlee? You like this dick?"
"You know I do Matt," she'd answer.
"Terry doesn't give it to you like me, does he," he'd grunt.
"Shut up Matt. Just fuck me. You know I love your big, fat cock up in me,' she'd say.
Matt wouldn't back down. "Say it Marlee. Terry's dick ain't got what I got. And he ain't never done this." Terry would wince as the memory continued with Matt pulling his Marlee forward, reaching between her legs and putting the head of his dick in her anus.
