Emily's Dilemma

by Gabriella Como

  Robert went out of his room and over to her door. He knocked. He knocked again. Quietly, the door opened and without a word, Emily let Robert in. Emily had an ashen look to her face, and showed no emotion. They sat down and Robert told her about the phone call from Mitch, Sr. He held up his phone to tell her he got an old sex video featuring Emily and what looks like Mitch, Jr.

  "Nice video, Emily. I didn't know you weren't into taping yourself," he said sarcastically. "Of course, it's none of my business what you did years ago. But now is a different matter. They're blackmailing us because of a video of you and that weasel. I don't get it. Why are they using this now?"

  "Robert, I have something to tell you about my past," Emily said.

  ****

  Two hours later, Robert recovered his bearings enough to think clearly about a plan of action. "I'm not used to playing victim and I'm not about to now," he declared.

  "Robert, I am the one they're using against you. I could do a number of things: immediately resign from our company. That limits the damage and softens your embarrassment," Emily said, "Although so much damage is already done."

  "But you would never have a career again. You would never work again in this field. Nobody would hire you," he responded.

  Emily looked up at Robert with steel in her eyes. "Or, we can fight fire with fire. The big boys want to play their games. I can play that game too," she said as she picked up her phone and dialed.

  ****

  Laura was furious. Her 60 year-old face flushed with anger. Picking up the phone again, she immediately made a call to Mitch, Sr.

  "Senior, I told you I would make holy hell for you if you or your son ever caused trouble. I remember saying that to you. You men not only can't keep your pants on, you can't keep your mouths shut. You've got to use your secret videos against someone who had to help her sick mom and to put herself through an expensive school. She finally made something of herself and wanted her past to go away. But you thought 'this is just too convenient' and had to blackmail her to get your way. I don't know who's more disgusting, you or that son of yours. No wonder you have the same name, you're two peas in a pod. Well, you must have forgotten me since you moved to that fancy big company. What goes around, comes around, Senior. You fucked with the wrong woman. And you fucked with an innocent girl. That just pisses me right off.

  "So, you're probably wondering what I'm going to do, right, Senior? In my right hand here is a ledger book with your name in it. Dates, times, the girls' nicknames, your clients, how much they spent, what were they known for, etc. It's all here. Copious notes, Senior. And you're also featured in so many of these entries. So you had some video cameras in your pool house back then? That makes two of us, Senior. I had cameras in my bedroom back then too, and I still have the tapes from when you visited me. Oh, yes, Senior, two can play this game. Consider your scheme limp and flaccid, like that little dick of yours.

  "Here's what you're going to do, Senior. You're going to say yes to anything Emily wants. Your son already signed an agreement on behalf of your company, and I bet you don't even know about that. His little weiner was doing most of the thinking when he signed that, a typical Ashton male. But I expect you to hold to that agreement.

  "I'll be watching closely, Senior. If I see Emily not getting what she wants, or you making trouble for her, I'll invite the press into my living room and show them some interesting stuff. You'll be out of that job in a heartbeat, and so will that clone son of yours," Laura said, her face returning to its normal color.

  Mitch Ashton, Sr. slumped back into his leather chair. Okay, he thought to himself, we will have to pay good money for X-3850 and market it. There would be benefits to this, he thought, like being seen as a caring, decent company with heart. But he wondered what that document was that Junior signed. At that very moment, an email came through his laptop on his desk. It had an attachment. It read:

  10/15/2013

  Preliminary Legal Agreement for Purchase of NobleCor product X-3850

  I, Mitch Ashton, Jr., being an officer of Millennium Pharma agree that Millennium Pharma will purchase NobleCor product X-3850 at a fair market price determined by the leading legal and consulting firm of NobleCor's choice.

  I also agree that Millennium Pharma will invite Emily Chastain and Robert Noble of NobleCor to sit on the Board of Directors for Millennium Pharma beginning at the moment of final legal purchase.

  I also agree on behalf of Millennium Pharma to make X-3850 viable commercially and available to the public at a reasonable cost, monitored by the legal and consulting firm of NobleCor's choice.

  I also agree to personally deliver a sample to the physician of Roseanne Chastain, mother of Emily Chastain, to personally observe the cure for her cardiac condition.

  Signed, Emily Chastain, VP of Molecular Microbiology

  Signed, Mitch Ashton, Jr. COO of Millennium Pharma

  Chapter 8

  The sale of X-3850 went through. Robert and Emily made millions. They were named to the Board of Directors upon completion of the sale. The FDA approved of the new drug. Marketing named it "MiraCor". As part of the agreement he signed, Mitch Jr. personally visited Roseanne Chastain and her physician to witness the taking of MiraCor. They brought along a small press contingent to record the moment, thinking that getting good PR would help soften Millennium Pharma's image for the better. The board and the company's management decided to stop marketing their old drug that only alleviated the symptoms. They kept it available, but stopped allocating marketing dollars for it. It eventually died a slow death. The company diverted all the old drug's marketing budget into MiraCor. MiraCor was now the topline drug for severe arrhythmia, and the only one that cured it.

  Robert and Emily still had challenges to overcome in their personal lives, but they were not insurmountable. Neither of their spouses wanted to divorce, if for no other reason than the need for security. The money they made through the sale of X-3850 allowed their soon-to-be-divorced spouses to live well, and they didn't complain about their new windfall. Robert's ex-wife could live very comfortably with her books and her cats, never having to venture outside. She was satisfied that there would no longer be any pressure for her to have sex with Robert. Emily's husband could continue making his body into the temple of health he always wanted. His having the kids every other week allowed him more time in the gym to focus on the important thing to him: himself. Emily's husband even quit his job because her alimony payments allowed him that freedom. Robert bought a new house he and Emily could share. They kept their romantic relationship secret from the Ashtons. Since they lived in another city, they thought they could do this discreetly.

  Mitch, Sr. and Mitch, Jr. now had a new board to deal with, now that Robert and Emily were members. The Ashton men now were made more accountable for the perception of the company in the minds of both professionals and patients. The make-up of the new board changed things significantly for them. Gone were the days when they could have their way. They both feared for their jobs. Their stranglehold on power was not certain anymore. They no longer held the kind of autocratic power they once wielded with their brutish, heavy hands. The game was changed, and they had to adapt. Robert and Emily were threats to the Ashtons. Senior and Junior often met to discuss the new landscape they now worked in. They were not happy.

  Eventually, Mitch, Sr. announced his intention to retire. Senior thought it the best time to get out and cash in. Millennium's stock had risen because of the introduction of MiraCor. But he no longer held the kind of influence over the board he once did. This was as good a time as any to make the move. He could then live on his yacht, anchored in Naples, Florida. The board accepted his resignation. Robert and Emily were quietly happy with the turn of events. It's something they wished for in private, but made every attempt at acting professionally in company dealings. Now, they could recruit a new CEO that shared their values and vision. As most large companies do, they look inside for a possible successor before they turn their sights out
wards. Robert and Emily had a feeling Mitch, Jr. would make a play for the job, but they abhorred the idea and would do anything they could to prevent that from happening. Many institutional investors felt that he would be a natural successor to his father. They made their feelings known in communications with the board members. Some board members thought the same way. The presence of Robert and Emily had influence on many company matters, including the marketing of MiraCor, but they weren't in the position to completely sway the company in every direction they wished. They had another fight on their hands. Mitch, Jr., indeed, wanted the job.

  Mitch, Jr. was in full-blown campaign mode for the CEO position. He courted the other board members feverishly. He had power lunches with institutional investors who held large chunks of the company stock. These large investors favored his dad, and thought his son was cut from the same cloth. They liked where Mitch, Sr. took the company, so naturally Mitch, Jr. would do the same. His efforts were paying off, but he wasn't sure he had enough votes on the board to make it. It was very close, he realized. He needed to pull out all the stops and do something dramatic. He did all the appropriate things so far that one would do. But he needed to close the deal once and for all. It was time to get dirty again, and that was something he was always qualified for. The board was getting impatient with itself, having interviewed and courted many worthy people from outside the company. Factions developed over some of the candidates, and whether hiring from the outside was better than from the inside. A few were leaning towards Mitch, Jr., thinking he would run the company in the successful manner his father did. Plus, they liked the story that would be told through the PR engines. "Success is in the genes" and "Continuity of success" were the headlines they imagined.

  Mitch, Jr. was at his large house in a tony suburb, in his dark theater room, once again watching the secret recording of he and Emily in his hotel room. He had replayed this recording over and over again, often with his unusually-shaped penis in his hands. He wished he had recorded the second sex scene in his bathroom, where he bent Emily over and plunged his member into her from behind. He wished to see his semen run down her beautiful legs and puddle on the tile floor once again. The thought made him hard whenever he thought about it. But at least he had the best part of his blackmail sex: when he spewed his load over her beautiful face. He watched it time and time again. He relished the long ropes of semen making patterns over her head, hair, face, and breasts. He delighted in the part when he plunged his mushroom-capped head into her mouth, causing her to choke on the remaining pumps he had left in him, and the waterfall of his emission cascading down from her mouth. He would never have sex like that again, he realized. The thought made him sad. Blackmail sex was the best sex he ever had. He had an idea.

  Emily was in the city in which Millennium Pharma resides, interviewing candidates and reviewing resumes, talking with executive recruiters, and otherwise doing the work that board members do during an executive search. Robert was out of town, in another city on the east coast, interviewing candidates there. Mitch, Jr. found his opportunity, and called Emily.

  "Emily, I'd like to invite you to dinner so we can discuss the CEO spot. I know you have big issues with me. I know I'm the last person you'd like to see in the position. But I would like to lay out a plan–a vision–on where I would take the company. I think I owe you that, and you owe the company enough to listen. Tonight, 6:30, I'll have a driver pick you up from your hotel. I'll have a presentation ready to show you," he said.

  "Mitch, I don't like you. Let's be clear about that. I think you're an immoral, blackmailing weasel. No matter how much you know about the pharma business and how effective you are in it, I don't like your moral compass. I don't think you have one. And I would be doing a disservice to Millennium and its shareholders if I thought otherwise," Emily replied tersely.

  Junior wasn't swayed. "Emily, we've had our problems, for sure. But this is about who's the most capable for the spot. I think I am more than qualified. I just want you to do your due diligence as a board member. Try to separate yourself from our past. At least you can tell the other board members you were open to considering my vision," he said. "Please."

  "All right, Mitch. Point taken. I do need to do my due diligence," replied Emily.

  The driver picked her up and drove from the downtown area to a fancy suburb. She figured they would be meeting at a nice restaurant, but instead they headed into a neighborhood with large, ostentatious houses. The driver pulled into a circular driveway, stopping in front the double door entrance surrounded by cut glass windows. Mitch was there to greet her.

  Emily was not happy. "This is not where I thought we'd meet," she coldly said.

  "I have a nice dinner catered and ready. The sushi chef is finishing it up as we speak," Mitch countered. He sounded all business, which calmed Emily's nerves. He didn't show a trace of the sliminess she had witnessed before. As she entered, she could see the sushi chef arranging the table. An expensive bottle of cabernet was on the table. Mitch grabbed his gin and tonic, went over to the table, and poured her a glass of the wine. He handed it to her. She accepted it, but then put it down on the table without taking a sip. Having the sushi chef around was comforting. At least there was someone around. Through the back sliding glass doors she could make out a large, fancy pool area. Off to the right was a pool house. The pool area's expensive lighting was dimmed, as if Mitch was about to throw a party. Everything seemed eerily similar to her, as she recalled an almost-identical scene so many years ago.

  "This used to be my dad's house. He sold it to me when he retired a month ago," Mitch said as he took a sip of his drink. "Dad had it built years ago. He had it match his house in Fairfax." Mitch forgot that Emily remembered that house, especially the pool area. It was etched in her mind permanently. There are things you can push out of your mind in order to forget about a certain time in your life, Emily thought to herself, but this was not one of them. Mitch tried his best to get Emily to relax. Neither sat down. The sushi chef quietly departed through the front door.

  "I thought we could grab a piece of sushi while I go through this presentation," he said. He grabbed a remote and clicked on a large wall screen. The opening slide featured the words "Presentation to Emily". She thought the words trite and beneath the reading level of a CEO candidate. Pretty lowbrow, she thought. Mitch, remote in hand, didn't flinch as he went on with his presentation, clicking onto the next slide. It contained a list of bullet points about what made him the one to take on the CEO job. He was all business in his manner, which relaxed the cautious Emily enough for her to take a sip of the wine.

  When he clicked to the next slide, Emily's demeanor changed and her face went white. On the bed sat a woman, her face covered with white goo. It was Emily's face. Mitch clicked "play" and the video started at the point where Mitch was stroking his penis and unloading himself onto Emily. His grunts and groans added a grotesque counterpoint to the quiet, submissive Emily in the movie. She saw his emission drain from her mouth onto her breasts and tank top. She stood watching. She was petrified. This is happening once again, she screamed to herself.

  "Before you say anything, Emily, I wanted to remind you of this. Yes, another secret video of you in action. Yes, I know I signed the document. But it didn't say anything about this movie. You make a very good porn star, by the way, Kimber. I can't tell you how much I enjoyed coming into you and all over you. Best sex I've ever had. Bar none," Mitch said, smiling deviously. "I also know you're fucking Robert now. It doesn't take very much to find that out. The other board members won't be too happy with that. The SEC won't even be happy about that. I did my due diligence on you, Emily. I'm not a quitter. I'm pretty relentless and I get my way. You know that about me."

  He walked up to Emily and clinked her glass of wine. "Here's my proposal," he said, looking straight into her eyes. She could smell gin on his breath.

  "This video gets out, and we're both fucked. And Robert. And whatever shares we own will suffer as well. You
don't like me and want someone else to be CEO. Okay, fine. I can live with that. I think I'm right for the job, and so do a lot of important people. But even if I were to become the CEO, you and Robert would make life miserable for me. I can always get a good job somewhere else.

  "Here's my terms: we do it. Right here. Again. In my pool house. Just like all those years ago. You let me fuck you the way I want to. In exchange, I back away from wanting the CEO spot and I resign from Millennium. Then you and I won't be butting heads anymore. You won't have me causing any shit between us. Imagine, no Mitch, Jr. No bad memories. I will be gone. I will leave you alone. You leave me alone. We go our separate ways. Any trouble that we could cause each other goes away. Stock price stays high. We both benefit. Robert does too," Mitch said. "Here's my resignation letter. All it takes is one more time. What do you say, Kimber?"