Deep down, she had known it was coming, but for a while, she chose to ignore it and hoped maybe things would change. It might have been considered foolish. However, the other thing was, she really didn't care. Deanna's husband had become difficult to live with. Even her nineteen-year-old son, Adam, had noticed. So, she was certain even he would not be upset to learn that his father, her spouse, wasn't coming back. Husband and wife had separated two months ago, he promising for them to work things out. She never really expected that to happen, and so, was not disappointed that it did not.
"Good riddance," was Adam's reaction when told the news that his father was not coming back.
"You sure you're okay with that?" Deanna asked.
"What choice do I have? But yeah, I'm fine with it. He's been an asshole and I haven't liked the way he treated
you
before he left."
"It's going to be tough for us for a while," she warned. "I'm going to get a job."
"So, will I."
"You don't need to. I want you to concentrate on college."
"I can do both."
"I have an interview tomorrow. Let's see how that goes."
* * *
Deanna was an attractive woman. Not beautiful, not a centerfold, but very pretty. Guys would always give her a second look, but she would not appeal to all. Still, in her short, but not too short business suit with jacket and skirt that showed off a reasonable figure for a forty-year-old, she looked professional and a perfect candidate for the sales position.
It was a typical high-rise office building, mostly glass, with a huge double-height lobby and a bank of elevators in the middle. Deanna headed for the lifts stepping into one with open doors and an up arrow. She pressed the button for the twentieth floor and had the car to herself for the ride. She easily found the office of Alby Products, entered, and checked in with the receptionist, a young, buxom woman who showed off her assets with a low-cut top.
"Mr. Riley will be with you shortly."
And he was. Deanna's wait was not more than five minutes. Mr. Riley was a handsome man, probably close in age to her. He led her to a large office with a big desk at one end and a pair of modern chrome and leather sofas facing each other at the other end.
"Jim Riley," he said extending his hand.
"Deanna Freeman." She took his hand and shook it.
"Let's sit over here," Riley suggested, leading her to the sofas. "I think we'll be more comfortable. I like to keep things informal." When they reached the sofas, he said, "Before you sit, please turn around."
"Excuse me?"
"Turn around." He made a rotating gesture with his hand.
Deanna frowned. "With all due respect, is that really necessary for an interview?"
"It is for
this
interview."
"I don't understand."
"Then why are you
here?"
"I'm applying for the sales position," Deanna replied as if there could be no doubt.
"Do you know what you'd be selling?"
"The ad said adult products."
"Do you know what those are?"
She shrugged. "Not exactly. I assume maybe alcoholic beverages, or maybe personal hygiene products. Something like that."
Shaking his head, Riley said, "Sex toys. We produce sex toys."
Her eyebrows shooting up in surprise, Deanna said,
"Oh."
"Dildos, vibrators, fake penises, male masturbators, nipple clamps. Pretty much anything you can think of. Still interested?"
In the early years of their marriage, Deanna and her husband had an active sex life. But as the years wore on, so did that. He started wanting to do strange things, like anal, threesomes—with a second woman, not another man. Things gradually went downhill when she refused. She'd actually enjoyed sex. She didn't consider herself a prude, but she did have limits. She would have considered anal if she'd had time to maybe work up to it. But he wouldn't give her that.
"I'm interested in hearing
more."
Riley smiled. "Okay. Still need you to turn around."
With a shrug, Deanna pirouetted. When her back was not to him, she could see him eying her up and down.
When she made a complete circle, Riley gestured for her to sit. The sofas were kind of low, which caused her skirt to rise. She tugged it down a bit but decided to leave something for show.
"From a physical standpoint, you're what we're looking for, Deanna," Riley explained. "An attractive woman, but one who looks more like your next-door neighbor than—"
"Your receptionist?"
He chuckled. "Yes. Don't want customers and store owners to think you have to look like her to use our products. Do you have any sales experience?"
"Years ago. Real estate."
"What have you been doing since then?"
"I was married. Raised a son."
"Was
married?"
"He walked out on us. I'm filing for divorce."
With a nod, he asked, "Why not go back into real estate?"
"Lot of reasons, but mostly, I'd like to keep my weekends free."
"Don't blame you. In this job, you'll visit your clients, show products, both existing and new, and take orders. You'll handle problems and resolve issues. Our executive staff would be available to assist. Eventually, we would want you to host parties for small groups of women or couples to show and sell our products."
"Would I have to solicit those?"
"You could, but we wouldn't necessarily expect you to. We get calls here requesting such parties. You will probably want to use some of our products yourself to gain a good understanding of them."
"Use them to show clients?" Deanna asked skeptically.
Again, Riley chuckled. "No, no. In the privacy of your home. Unless you
wanted
to demonstrate for your clients. We wouldn't be opposed to that, but it wouldn't be required."