by Harper Ashe
The only woman in the room audibly sighed and two of the men shifted uncomfortably in their seats, trying to adjust their spontaneous erections. Surprisingly, the usually-detached Mr. Blake felt a stirring of arousal, too. Something about this woman got his blood boiling. Outwardly, he managed to maintain his composure. But inwardly, the alluring taster behind the mirrored glass made his pulse quicken as if he was no more than a schoolboy.
When the blonde abruptly stopped mid-chew and violently spit the bite of dessert into her napkin, none of them saw it coming. But, like fingernails on a chalkboard, they all felt her reaction on a visceral level. All eyes turned to Mr. Blake as his face darkened in displeasure.
“Find out what just happened,” he barked, heading for the door, “and make sure you get this one back for Phase II.”
~~~
“Is everything okay, Abby?” Mary asked, rushing to get her a glass of water, which she gulped down to dilute the terrible taste in her mouth.
“This is the worst dessert I’ve ever tasted!”
“Oh dear. Could you be a bit more specific please?”
To explain, Abby chose an analogy that every woman, no matter what her size, could relate to. “Although it looks delicious, the taste made me feel duped, kind of like dating a really cute guy only to find out that he’s just a phony jerk who wants to get in your pants.”
She paused for effect before continuing. “Your dessert is really cute on the outside, but inside its just artificial ingredients with a texture like cardboard.”
“My, my. That doesn’t sound appetizing at all,” Mary said, leading Abby to realize that the bird-woman had never actually tried the product she was representing. Clearly, Mary didn’t have much of a sweet tooth.
Lowering her voice, Abby asked, “Can I be blunt, Mary?”
“Yes, of course,” Mary responded, leaning forward just a bit, as if the two women were sharing a secret.
“After one bite of this dessert,” Abby said dramatically before shifting her gaze toward the mirrored wall and the hidden people behind it, “you know you’ve been screwed.”
~~~
Stephen Blake had watched the video of Abby Branson’s tasting experience a dozen times and was about to click the play button once again. Every bite she took elicited the same distasteful response.
“Haven’t you seen enough, Stephen?” Martha asked, pressing the “off” button on the 72-inch wall-mounted monitor. Mr. Blake’s 60-year-old executive assistant was the only employee at Blake Foods who dared to call him by his first name and, in some ways, was like the mother he barely remembered. She had been with him since he took over as CEO of Blake Foods, Inc. fourteen years ago. He was only 25 then, but as the sole heir to the gourmet foods empire, he had been preparing for the role his entire life.
“She’s an intriguing young woman, wouldn’t you agree, Martha?”
“Intriguing, yes, and quite attractive. Maybe you should ask her to dinner.”
“It would never work. We’re too different, she and I,” Stephen responded, his voice tinged with regret. It had been a while since he felt more than a passing attraction for a woman. A few years ago, he might have enjoyed getting to know Abby Branson better. But now, work – not romance – was his obsession.
“Different how?” Martha prompted.
“She’s spirited and vivacious, and I’m...well, you know what I am.”
“Lonely?”
Stephen flashed his executive assistant an irritated look. “Let’s not start with that again. You know I’m married to my work. I date just enough to keep the tabloids off my back, but I’m not interested in a relationship. Not at this point in my life anyway. Even though my father is gone, as his only child, it’s my duty to preserve the profitability of our family’s business.”
“It’s not normal for a man in the prime of his life to live like a monk,” Martha argued. “Besides, what’s the point of preserving your family’s legacy if you don’t have a child of your own to take over the company someday?”
“There’s still time for that, Martha. Besides, Abby Branson and I are from different worlds.”
“Your world is boring, Stephen. It would be good for you to step away from your reserved, methodical existence and let someone other than me get to know the real you.”
“The real me?”
“Yes,” Martha said. “The charming, generous, and fiercely loyal man behind the brooding, stoic mask.”
Stephen shook his head. Martha knew he wasn’t the type of man to wear his emotions on his sleeve. He had spent his entire life fiercely guarding his private life, which is why he usually dated vapid women who were far more interested in their own lives than his. It wasn’t his fault that people mistook his reserved demeanor for something more threatening.
“I’ll think about dating some more,” he said. “After the launch. I still can’t believe Miss Branson equated the act of eating our dessert to something so...wretched.”
“She certainly knows how to get her point across,” Martha replied with a chuckle.
“I’m glad you’re amused. But we have a significant problem on our hands. We haven’t launched a new product line in years and this was going to be our big, competitive breakthrough.”
The company’s profits had been slipping in recent years and Stephen was worried about its future. Once the leader in gourmet foods manufacturing, Blake Foods was now ranked a dismal third and up-and-coming boutique producers were pressuring the company to do something big. The diet desserts line had been Stephen’s idea and he had a lot riding on its success.
Martha placed a manicured hand on his shoulder. “Go home, Stephen. Have a drink and get some sleep. You’re not going to solve the problem by continuing to watch that lovely young woman spit out your dream.”
“I suppose you’re right,” he sighed. Martha usually was.
Tomorrow, he would call a meeting with the product team and demand a 24/7 schedule until new recipes were developed. Blake Foods needed to fast track the Phase II tasting experience.
Chapter 3
After her rude performance, Abby was surprised when she got a callback for Phase II of the Blake Foods tasting experience. This time, the pay was $400. She knew exactly what to wear!
She had used her first tasting payment to buy a simple black dress with a high waist and a scooped neckline that could be dressed up or down, just like Lois Carlyle recommended. She paired the dress with a cardigan sweater and ballet flats and felt as professional as she looked.
On the day of her tasting she was, once again, greeted by the Research Institute’s receptionist and seated in the tasting room with the mirrored wall. Soon, Mary arrived carrying the familiar tray of desserts.
“Abby, so good to see you again,” Mary said pleasantly.
“Thank you, Mary. I think I should apologize for being so rude at the first tasting.”
“No apologies needed. We appreciate your candor. Your frank and honest opinions are the kind of feedback that Blake Foods needs to improve their line before launch. Should we start this tasting with the cheesecake again?”
Abby shrugged. She was a little apprehensive about tasting the desserts this time. While they still looked delicious, she knew that those looks could be deceiving.
When Mary put the cheesecake in front of her, she scooped up a bite and brought it tentatively toward her mouth.
~~~
Behind the mirrored wall, the Blake Foods product team waited anxiously for Abby Branson to taste the cheesecake. She swallowed the first bite of their dessert this time, but not without a grimace.
“Hey Harvey, it looks like she just swallowed your cum!” Tom Parker, the team lead, said. Laughter erupted at the raunchy joke.
“Silence!” Stephen commanded. “This is not the time for jokes. This young woman represents the demographic for a new product line that we have spent months and millions of dollars developing. A product line that, in its current form, is causing someone from our target market to
grimace like she ate something that went bad.”
He began pacing in the confined space, something he did when an idea was forming in his mind, which put everyone in the room on edge. “Clearly, this team isn’t prepared to bring the product line to market. We need to bring in an expert,” he finally announced to the nervous group.
Turning to Tom Parker, he said, “You stay. Everyone else out. And someone send in Martha and Smythe.”
~~~
Abby tasted the desserts, one by one, never bothering to take more than one bite. Why waste the calories on something so...uninspired?
“I wish I had something more positive to say,” she confessed to Mary on multiple occasions. “While these desserts are better than the last ones, they’re nothing special.”
“That’s quite alright, Abby. Remember, honesty matters here. Looks like that’s it for today. Let me get your payment envelope and you can be on your way.”
Just then, a knock sounded from behind the mirrored wall. I knew there were people back there! Abby thought to herself.
“Oh dear,” Mary said, clearly flustered by the unexpected intrusion. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll be right back.”
“No problem,” Abby said, getting up and pacing around the small room. She walked over to the large mirror and pretended to peer inside. How does it feel to know that someone is watching you, huh?
She jumped when the door opened sooner than she expected and in walked the Stephen Blake, followed by Mary, an older woman, and two other men. The small room suddenly felt extremely hot and far too crowded.
Mary smiled reassuringly. “Abby Branson, I’d like you to meet Mr. Stephen Blake.”
Trembling, Abby took Stephen’s outstretched hand. As his firm grip closed around her fingers, liquid heat traveled up her arm and into her belly. Up close and personal, Stephen Blake was every bit as handsome as he was on the magazine cover. He was taller than Abby pictured – over six feet – with broad shoulders, a trim waist, and a thick head of dark hair that most men would kill for.
The older woman jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. He cleared his throat. “Miss Branson, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, his firm grip on her hand and deep voice sending shivers up Abby’s spine.
“Uh, it’s a pleasure to meet you, too, sir,” Abby responded, silently begging her voice not to crack. “I’m a big fan of your gourmet foods. Well, except for the diet desserts. But I’m sure you already know that.”
The older woman laughed out loud and pushed forward with her hand extended. “Hello, Abby. I’m Martha Rodgers, Stephen’s executive assistant. I’m delighted to meet you.” Abby reluctantly let go of Stephen’s warm, strong hand and took Martha’s cool, delicate fingers.
“This is Tom Parker, the product team lead,” Martha continued, taking control of the introductions, “and this is Lawrence Smythe, corporate counsel for Blake Foods. Mary, do you think you could find a few more chairs so we can all sit down?”
“Of course,” Mary responded, leaving the room and quickly returning with several folding chairs.
“Thank you,” Martha said. “Please cancel the rest of the afternoon taste testing sessions. Pay the participants for their time and let them know we’ll be in touch if we have another opportunity for them.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Mary said, nodding pleasantly as she slipped silently out the door.
Abby looked around the table, waiting for someone to speak. Martha was sitting next to her, Tom Parker was scowling at her from across the table, and Mr. Blake and Mr. Smythe were seated at opposite ends of the table, both with unreadable expressions on their faces.
“Did I do something wrong during the taste testing? Is that why you’re all here?” Abby asked, directing her question to Stephen.
When he was slow to respond, Martha chimed in. “On the contrary, dear. Mr. Blake was so impressed with your useful feedback that he would like to offer you a job. Isn’t that right, Stephen?”
“Yes. Exactly. Martha is completely correct,” Stephen said after clearing this throat for the second time. “As you so accurately noted, our diet desserts line isn’t quite ready for launch. I would like to bring you onto the team as our Quality Assurance Liaison to ensure that the taste and presentation of our new desserts meet the Blake Foods standards for quality.”
“Are you saying that you want to hire me as your corporate taste tester?” Abby asked, not quite clear on what the job offer entailed.
“The position would entail much more than that,” Martha responded. “In addition to taste testing, we would be looking for your input on presentation, packaging, and perhaps even marketing.”
Abby watched as Tom Parker’s eyebrows shot up before moving back down into a deeper scowl. This guy was clearly not on board with adding a Quality Assurance Liaison to his team. Well, that’s not my problem.
“This sounds like a temporary position. Once the diet desserts reach the market, would my job be done?” Abby asked.
“Not necessarily,” Mr. Smythe said, reaching into his briefcase and pulling out some paperwork. “Blake Foods is prepared to offer you a one year employment contract. Employment beyond that is negotiable.”
“Besides a steady paycheck for a year and all the mediocre diet desserts I can eat, what’s in it for me?” Abby asked. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a slight wince on Stephen’s face at her mention of mediocre.
“Your exact salary and additional incentives, such as a company car, an expense account, and a wardrobe allowance can all be negotiated,” Mr. Smythe said.
A company car and clothing allowance?
“What’s the catch?” Abby asked, narrowing her eyes and trying to stare down the serious Mr. Smythe. She blinked first.
“The only ‘catch’, if you must call it that, is that we would require you to sign our standard non-disclosure and non-compete agreements. I’m sure you understand the necessity.”
Before responding, Abby took her time looking at all the faces around the table. Stephen looked cool as a cucumber while Tom Parker was sweating bullets. Mr. Smythe looked mildly bored at having to spend his afternoon negotiating an employee contract, while Martha’s eyes were shining bright with amusement.
For Abby, there really wasn’t much to think about. Leaving her lowly admin job for a gig at Blake Foods, even if it might only last for a year, was a no-brainer. Grinning, she turned to the corporate counsel. “Well, Mr. Smythe, show me the paperwork so we can get the negotiations underway.”
~~~
Once she was home, Abby looked at the printout of her compensation package with awe. Although it had taken the rest of the afternoon to hammer out the details with Mr. Smythe, it was totally worth it.
In addition to a base salary that was more than twice what she earned at her admin job, she managed to get all the perks the corporate counsel had mentioned, although most of her benefits wouldn’t kick in until her 90 day probation period was over. But she did get one additional perk that was payable immediately: a $2,000 signing bonus. Mr. Smythe didn’t even hesitate when she threw that last demand into the mix.
Grabbing her cell phone, she called her parents to tell them the good news and sent her sister a text message.
Your big sis is moving up in the world! Got a new job with real potential and a super-hot boss!
Claire replied almost instantly.
Happy for you, but sooo jealous. At work now, but will call when I’m off so you can tell me all about it.
After texting back, “Ok,” Abby dialed another number. “Hello, Ms. Carlyle. My name is Abby Branson and I would like to hire you as my personal shopper.”
Chapter 4
On her first day of employment at Blake Foods, Abby was greeted in the empty lobby by a young, perky brunette with curves to match her own. “Miss Branson? I’m Jennifer Davis, your administrative assistant. Most people call me Jenna.”
“I have an administrative assistant?” a very surprised Abby asked.
“Of course. All the junior executives do,” Jenna responded.
Her position made her a junior executive? “Oh, right,” Abby responded, hoping she didn’t look as shocked as she felt.
“I was excited when I got the call from Martha that I was being assigned to you. You’re sort of a celebrity in the admin pool.” Jenna lowered her voice to a whisper. “Everyone has been talking about your tasting experience. We heard you put on quite a show for that stuffy old product team.”
Abby smiled. “I suppose I did,” she whispered back.
“We also heard that you made quite an impression on Mr. Blake.”
“Really?” Abby asked.
“Oh yeah,” Jenna said, her voice still hushed. “After your second tasting, he demoted half the product team, calling them a bunch of kiss-asses, pardon my language. He said he was bringing in an expert, someone with spunk who wasn’t afraid to show a little honesty.”
“Mr. Blake said ‘kiss-ass’?”
“Well, not in those exact words,” Jenna clarified. “I think it was more like ‘yes men.’ But we all knew that’s what he meant.”
“Interesting...”
“If you follow me, Miss Branson, I’ll show you to your office before giving you a tour of the Blake Foods building.”
“Please, call me Abby. Formality isn’t really my style, Jenna.”
Abby followed Jenna into the elevator, which stopped on the fifth floor. Her assistant then led her past a conference room, down a long hallway, and into a large corner office with panoramic views of the city.
“My desk is just around the corner in the floor’s admin area, but you can always reach me by phone intercom or email. What do you think?” Jenna asked.
“I think it’s fantastic,” Abby said. In addition to a beautiful wood desk, there was a matching bookcase, a small sitting area, and a huge whiteboard. On one wall was a poster-sized photograph of a tray of Blake Foods’ desserts.
