Royally Flushed: Tech Billionaires

by Ainsley St Claire

  What could they be up to? This doesn’t make any sense. I look through my emails for something from Jeremy, and it’s been several weeks since he’s sent me anything. Another troubling event.

  “Have someone come up from IT,” I tell her.

  “Right away, Mr. Graham.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Dan from IT is in my office.

  The door is hardly closed behind him when he starts in. “Mr. Graham, please let me explain.”

  I nod. I’m not sure what he needs to explain, but I’m going to let him talk.

  “I was furious at Ms. Woods over the box incident on Wednesday.”

  What the hell is this guy talking about?

  “I had a big project, and it was almost completed, but because she sent herself the box and we were out of the office all Wednesday morning, I had to start over. I was upset and said some inappropriate things. But I apologize, and it won’t happen again.”

  What kind of madness is going on at my company? “That’s not why I asked you up here but be assured I will have HR fully investigate your actions and determine if you should remain employed here.”

  He shuts his eyes, and I almost laugh. Corrine set him up. She’d never tell on anyone because she knows I’d string them up and fire their asses.

  “Please give Ms. Woods access to Mr. Knowles’ and his assistant Heather’s emails immediately.”

  “Yes, Mr. Graham. I’ll give her the admin password. It will give her access to any computer in the company, including yours.”

  “She already has access to mine. I’m not worried, but please keep this information I’ve asked of you confidential.”

  “Yes, Mr. Graham.”

  “You can go.” As Dan reaches the door, I add, “Please know that the police have confirmed that the package on Wednesday wasn’t sent by Ms. Woods, so not only were your comments inappropriate, they were also misinformed. You’d do well to correct anyone you hear say otherwise.”

  “Yes, Mr. Graham.” He almost runs out of the office.

  I push the intercom. “Ms. Woods, can you come in here, please?”

  “Right away, Mr. Graham.”

  She steps in, and for the first time, I notice her pencil skirt and blouse with kitten-heel boots. Her breasts strain behind the buttons. The flare of her hips and her mouthwatering ass cheeks are enhanced by the way the skirt accents every curve. For a brief moment, I dream about kneeling before her and tasting her, but then I remember why I asked her into my office. My balls ascend into my abdomen because I’m being an ass and ogling my assistant.

  “You didn’t tell Dan why I wanted to see him,” I prompt.

  “No, Mr. Graham. I thought it best for confidentiality’s sake that he just come up to your office.” She smiles.

  “I take it he’s been a little inappropriate?”

  She nods. “Yes, he has.”

  “I’m opening an HR investigation regarding his behavior. Why didn’t you report this?”

  “A lot of people blame me for what happened on Wednesday. I thought reporting it would only make their anger worse. Plus, the only person who needed to know I wasn’t guilty was you. The rest I could care less about.”

  “Regardless, we’re opening an investigation. I don’t tolerate that kind of harassment.”

  “I never believed you did. I did hope Dan would tell you for me, and it seems that’s exactly what he did. Thank you for addressing this.”

  I nod at her. Corrine never ceases to amaze me.

  “Mr. Knowles and Heather have arrived,” she adds after a moment.

  “Please send Jeremy in. Dan should be getting you both Jeremy and Heather’s passwords. I want a thorough look at their email accounts, along with their sent boxes, and a comparison to the backup files.”

  “Yes, Mr. Graham.”

  She turns and leaves, and I watch her go. I’d love to see her face when she comes. I wonder if she’s loud or quiet. My dick twitches.

  I quickly phone HR and ask for an investigation regarding Dan in IT and his comments to Corrine since Wednesday. Boy, do I feel like a hypocrite.

  As I hang up, Jeremy walks in.

  “Where were you this morning?” I ask.

  “Heather and I had the solar gala breakfast kick-off, remember?”

  “I asked you to be here at seven to meet with Dawn from HR and me. I was surprised to learn you’d asked them to start a search to replace Corrine.”

  “I did. After all the mistakes she’s been making and the box incident, I thought it was most prudent.”

  “First, I’m not aware of any mistakes—”

  “Heather has been catching them before they get to your desk.”

  I don’t believe that even for a moment. “And second, Corrine’s my admin, so I make that decision. You took valuable resources away from a big recruiting effort for production of our new solar film, just to waste two days of work.”

  “I was doing my job.”

  Jeremy’s up to something, and he’s full of shit. “Apologize to Corrine on your way out.”

  “Sure.”

  He turns to go, and I pop the speaker on to listen for his apology. He doesn’t stop to talk to Corrine. Yes, he’s definitely up to something.

  Chapter 6

  Corrine

  At the end of the day on Friday, I grab the phone log and walk into Mr. Graham’s office. It’s been a long week, and it’s after seven. I’m ready to go home.

  “You had a few phone calls today.”

  He glances at the clock. “Where did my day go?”

  I tick off his meetings and conference calls.

  He smiles. “I’m sorry you’re stuck working so late these days. Any calls that can’t wait until Monday?”

  “No, you’ve managed all the emergencies. Jeremy and Heather both left about an hour ago, but I didn’t get a chance to go through their computers. It was too easy to get caught with them here.”

  Mr. Graham tends to work from home on Saturday and come in on Sundays, so before he can offer to go through the computers himself, I share my plan with him. “I’ll come in tomorrow and go through them and let you know on Monday if anything shows up.”

  “I appreciate all the work you’re putting in on this.”

  I’m embarrassed by the accolades. “I just want them gone if they’re doing something that could hurt the company.”

  “Agreed. Brian’s going to take you home this evening. Any weekend plans besides work?”

  “I have plans for drinks with my best friend, Gabby, tonight.”

  “And Brian’s going with you?”

  “No man will talk to me if he’s hanging around,” I tell him.

  “I don’t find a problem with that. You keep forgetting that this week someone sent you a box that cleared an entire city block for half a day. You shouldn’t be wandering alone right now.”

  “That’s over,” I retort.

  He huffs. “Let’s let more than three days go by before we declare it’s over. I’m more interested in your personal safety.”

  Going down this rabbit hole isn’t working, so I need to try something else. “Brian has a family. They want to spend time with him on the weekend.”

  “He’s well compensated. I also expect you to contact him when you move around this weekend.”

  Jackson is my boss; he’s not the king of my life. I feel like I’m a teenager dealing with my father. I roll my eyes.

  “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

  Shit. “I did, but only because you’re overreacting.”

  Jackson takes a deep breath. “Do you know what it cost to have two divisions of the San Francisco Police Department, the bomb squad, and two fire stations roll out for the box you were sent?”

  I shake my head not sure I want to know the answer.

  “At least one hundred thousand dollars, if not more. This woman is not just a little crazy, she’s a lot crazy.”

  “I haven’t reached out to Bobby, and I know the police have talked to his e
girlfriend,” I say.

  Jackson sits up straight and alert. “How do you know?”

  Crap. “Because Bobby called and was pissed I’d told them about our breakup.” I watch his face contort in anger.

  “He told you that?”

  “Well…he left me a voice mail.” Please don’t want to listen to it.

  “I want to hear it. Do you still have it?”

  I do, but I’m not going to let my boss know my ex thinks I’m fat and bad at sex. I shake my head.

  “Did he call the office or your cell?”

  I really don’t want the embarrassment of him listening to the message. I cross my arms and look down at the ground. “My cell.”

  “Hand it to me. I might be able to recover the message.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll use Brian this weekend, and Gabby and I will just have drinks at my apartment.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” He holds his hand out. “Phone, please.”

  “You can’t make me give you my cell phone,” I say like a petulant child.

  He cocks his head to the side. “Now, Corrine.”

  I slowly reach into my pocket. I wish I could erase the message without it being obvious. I place it in Jackson’s hand.

  I shut my eyes, hoping this is a dream. “He says some things I’d rather you not hear,” I quietly explain.

  Jackson pushes some buttons, and Bobby’s voice mail plays on the phone’s speaker.

  As soon as it starts, I can feel his eyes boring into me. “Why didn’t you send this to the police?”

  “They wouldn’t have done anything. Everyone reveres Bobby in this town.” The idea that Bobby thinks I’m fat and suck at sex is not a humiliation I could handle if it got out.

  Jackson listens to the message several times before pushing some buttons and handing me back my phone. “He’s an asshole. I hope you know that.”

  I fight back the tears. “Thank you.”

  I return to my desk and gather my things. Brian follows me out to the Suburban. In the car, I send a text to Gabby.

  Me: I’m just finishing work. I’m stuck with the bodyguard so if you still want to get together for drinks, we can meet at my place. The girls are gone, and it’s just me this weekend.

  Gabby: Great idea. I’ll pick something up at the bodega at the corner.

  Me: Perfect. Thanks.

  Things will get better. “Brian, what do you have going on this weekend?”

  “I’m working for you,” he says.

  “You’re not doing anything with the twins?”

  “Not this weekend. I’ll be parked in front of your building by seven tomorrow morning, unless you need me earlier.”

  “I hope to still be sleeping. How about nine instead? I’m going into the office for some work.”

  He’s watching me in the rearview mirror. “I’ll meet you at nine.”

  When we arrive, Brian walks me to my door and hands me a card with his cell phone number on it. “I can be back in less than twenty minutes with the car. Please don’t sneak out. That’s a good way to get me fired.”

  “You know my soft spot.”

  He does a quick walkthrough of my apartment and waves goodbye.

  This is not what I ever expected my week would look like. I get out of my skirt and pull off my bra. Ahh. The bra was definitely invented by a man. I put on a ratty UT sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants. So much better.

  I turn my tunes on loud and pop a giant bowl of popcorn—not air-popped, but with coconut oil in a pan. I then melt an entire stick of butter, and as I pour it on and salt it well, the buzzer rings. Gabby’s here!

  You can tell Gabby is excited. Her eyes are big, and her smile is enormous. “You’ll never guess what I found.”

  I shake my head.

  Out of the paper bag, she pulls two four-packs of berry wine coolers. Her grin is infectious.

  “I haven’t seen wine coolers since college. They’re perfect.” I giggle.

  Gabby begins to sniff the air. “I smell popcorn.”

  “You do. I put an entire stick of butter in.” I show her the giant bowl and pop a few kernels in my mouth. Delicious.

  “Love it.” She takes a big handful of popcorn and stuffs it in her mouth.

  I can sort of make out her saying, “What’s on Netflix?”

  “You pick, and I’ll tell you about my day—starting with the worst part where Jackson listened to Bobby’s voice mail.”

  She stops, and her head swings away from the television and focuses on me. “What?”

  I nod. “He listened to it a few times and also forwarded it to someone.”

  “Who?” She studies me carefully.

  “I don’t know. He did call Bobby an asshole.”

  “Good. He can be an honorary member of the I Hate Bobby Sanders Club.”

  She stops at a romantic comedy we’ve watched a few dozen times. It’s perfect for catching up and if we can’t finish watching. “What else did he say?”

  “Not much. I’m working tomorrow.”

  “You’re always working on weekends.”

  “We’re busy, and now we think our CFO and his admin are up to something, but we’re not sure what. I’m going to do some snooping.”

  “Are you going in by yourself?”

  I stuff a big handful of popcorn in my mouth. “No, Brian is picking me up at nine.”

  “That’s good. After the week you’ve had, it’s good you’re not alone at work. Damien is out to drinks with his boys, and I’m going to meet up with him later. Is that okay?”

  “Of course.” I shovel more popcorn in my mouth. We watch the movie for a little over an hour before she has to go.

  “Enjoy those wine coolers.”

  I laugh. “I’ll save the leftovers for your next visit.”

  I lock the door behind her, and suddenly I’m nervous about being alone. I’m so rarely alone. I share an office space with Heather outside Jackson’s office. And I live in a literal old-time closet between two women, and usually one of them is home. I like the idea of being alone in theory, but with so much going on, I miss my roommates. There’s safety in numbers.

  The baseboard electric furnace snaps, crackles, and pops, and it sends my heart racing. It takes me a long time to fall asleep. I keep thinking of Jackson’s face as he listened to Bobby’s message. He was shocked at first and then seemed to understand why I was embarrassed. He wouldn’t look at me while Bobby told me why he broke up with me. It’s not like I have anything to offer Jackson that he’d want, but still—no one wants to know their admin is terrible in bed.

  At some point, I fall asleep and wake naturally when the sun comes up. Saturday is the one day I can sleep in, but my body has other ideas. When my mind starts circling around Bobby and his new girlfriend, the package, and Heather’s strange behavior, I can’t take it anymore. I throw off the covers to brave the cold air of my apartment.

  I make myself a plate of eggs and piddle around. I pick up our mess from last night and read the San Francisco Chronicle for the local update and Cosmo from my phone. It has tips on how to satisfy your man. I look at a few diets, but none of them has enough chocolate in it.

  When the buzzer to my apartment rings at nine, I realize I never got dressed. I buzz Brian up and quickly slip on a pair of jeans and a cute sweater with my Ked sneakers.

  “Sorry, Brian. I got up early and have done nothing this morning.”

  “You don’t have to hurry on my account. I’m also fine if you want me to wait in the car.”

  I flip some mascara over my lashes, smooth on some lip gloss, and walk out. “No, I’m ready. Do you mind if we stop at Starbucks?”

  “I go where you want, not the other way around.”

  After our Starbucks run, we walk to the office. Brian alerts the weekend security guard of where we’ll be and asks him to inform us of anyone coming upstairs. “I wouldn’t want to shoot anyone,” he explains.

  Up on our floor, we get settled in. Brian has a book,
and I start poking around on Jeremy’s computer. I notice he’s been talking to someone at our competitor, and they set up lunch plans. It’s a conversation that goes back and forth—they’re catching up to watch a football game and meeting at trade shows.

  Each of their plans has a few errors. The football game was on my birthday, and they mention watching a Goldminers-Giants game. The Goldminers’ season was long over, and the Giants play baseball. I do a quick search and find the Giants haven’t even started yet.

  I also don’t remember Jeremy going to any trade shows or processing any of his expense reports for a trade show.

  I place a copy of some of the strange emails on a cloud server and keep going.

  Heather’s email also has a few messages that seem out of place. I store them all in the cloud drive. Nothing points to anything in particular, and there’s no smoking gun. I’m a little disappointed but not really surprised. If they’re up to no good, they wouldn’t be doing it on their company email.

  My office phone rings, and it’s the security guard. “Mr. Knowles is on his way up.”

  “Thank you.”

  I alert Brian and quickly move to a new file and pretend I’m working on something else. The elevator pings, and I look up as the doors open. Jeremy and I lock eyes.

  He stops short, seeming surprised to see me. “What the hell are you doing here?” he grumbles.

  Brian stands up, and when Jeremy spots him, his demeanor changes from aggression to ignoring my existence.

  “Thank you,” I mouth to Brian, and he nods.

  Jeremy goes into his office and shuts the door. He’s never been in the office over the weekend even once in the year I’ve worked here. He works long days, but I can’t remember a weekend.

  Opening a mirror image of his computer, I watch Jeremy open the presentation, patent application, and research file from our recent solar film venture and begin copying them to a private cloud drive. They’re big files, so it takes some time. It’s so quiet that I can hear him on the phone. I can’t make out who he’s talking to or exactly what he’s saying, but I hear him murmur.

  I pick up my phone and text Jackson.