She looked up as the door opened and a youngish, goth-ish woman all but flew out from the portal. Her thick mascara was smeared down her cheeks, tears dripped from her chin.
oh my, she thought, that’s one hell of an interview.
She swallowed hard, then rose as a hand peremptorily gestured her inside.
here goes nothin’, she though, squaring her shoulders. She would not leave here all snot-faced and mewling, to be sure. She needed this job, and she’d worked for dickhead bosses before. Still, her heart hammered hard in her chest as she crossed the vast office space to where he sat. He, most likely, would be her new boss, and she took note of all she could before she sat.
He stared at her, fingers steepled. His chair moved left, right, left, right as he stared at her. She returned his look with one she hoped looked calm, cool, and not as desperate at she felt.
“Fine,” he said at long last.
“Can you type?”
“Can you keep track of things?”
“Things? Could you be more specific?” she asked. She’d learned long ago to not blindly say ‘yes’ in an interview, and her job coach had echoed that this very morning before sending her running uptown for this interview.
“Notes, to do lists, stuff.”
“You mean, your calendar? Your appointments and deadlines? Yes, of course.”
“Hmm, ” he mused, his fingers still steepled.
A quick frown crossed her face, but she rose.
“Here.” He pointed at a spot on his side of the desk. She walked over.
“Well, you at least look the part. Turn around.”
She turned around, the looked over her shoulder.
“Look? The part? I’m a trained professional.”
His eyebrows raised fractionally, and he straightened in his chair.
“I had no idea they covered that in business school,” he said, his eyes sparkling.
“Covered…? I think we’re talking at cross purposes. I know how to dress to represent the company. I know how to file and how to type and how to manage a professional calendar, as well as send your suits out to be cleaned, have a car pick you up, arrange for haircuts, send flowers to clients-all the things a businessman needs but doesn’t have time to do when he’s running a Fortune-500 business.”
She was proud of the little speech. It was firm, delivered crisply, as she walked back to her seat.
“How about a blowjob?”
Half-way to sitting, she all but bounced to her feet.
“I beg your pardon? In this day and age, you’d ask me for … for…” she sputtered to a stop.
“The word is blowjob. Or BJ for short. It’s okay, I’ll teach you. You did say you were a trained professional, and your resume does say that you have extensive sexual experience at your last employment.”
She leaned forward, fire slashing from her eyes.
“It. Does. NOT. Say. That.”
He held up an application.
“Naomi, I have no idea what you’re getting pissy about..”
She cut him off abruptly.
“I’m Katherine,” she replied scathingly. “It’s more than apparent that you need someone to take care of your office. Taking care of your sexual needs is your problem, buddy. NOT mine. If you want a secretary who can efficiently manage your day, then hire me. But I will NOT fuck you, suck you, or anything, except whack you in the head with my stapler if you try to force me. You pervert.”
His phone rang. She turned to move to the door. His voice took on a note of command, losing the humor.
Somehow, she wasn’t sure how, her ass was back in the chair at his no-nonsense order. She clutched her small purse, thinking fuming thoughts about disorganized assholes, before coming to the conclusion that he really did need her skills as much as she needed the job. She didn’t mean to listen to his side of the conversation, but it became apparent that he was late getting some document off to someone who was NOT happy about having to call, again, for it. He hung up the phone and glared over her head for a moment.
Opening a drawer, he pulled out a laptop and thrust it across the desk to her. Rising, he came around to her side of the desk, and pushed a hidden button under the front overhang. A small shelf slid from under the desk.
neat, she thought, as she put the laptop on it.
“Type,” he commanded. “Wait. What IS your name?”
“Katherine,” she replied, her nose in the air. “And you’re going to need to make me an offer before I hit one key.”
“Better to hit the key than me. I apologize for the confusion. I guess Naomi had second thoughts about showing up.”
“Smart girl,” she said.
“I like wiseass. To a point.”
Walking back to his chair, he pulled a note pad from the far drawer. Scrabbling around he finally found a pen that worked, and an elastic band.
fuck my life, she heard him mutter under his breath, as the pen stopped writing. His next choice finally delivered ink to the page. She couldn’t stop herself, she laughed.
“With you…not at you. Uhm. Exactly. You’re very bossy–and I get that. But if we’re going to work together…and that will depend on what you’re writing there, you’re really going to need me to help manage you.”
Remembering her quick sit when he’d actually used his Dom Voice on her, he smiled. He thought that was a novel idea, a submissive managing him. Nudging the paper towards her, he watched the smile bloom across her face.
This was going to be more fun than he’d imagined.