“I’ll be honest with you, Andrea,” Mr. Clark said. “You were fourth on the list for this position. The other three all thought it was somewhat morbid and they didn’t feel it fit in with their particular… scruples.” He said “scruples” like it was a dirty word from a foreign language.
Andi tried not to, but she couldn’t help but smile. She felt the same way.
“I understand I might not have been at the top of the list,” she said, “but I’m happy to have the opportunity. This is right up my alley, I think.”
“This is a new vertical for GLC. There’s a lot of risk here. It’s very high profile, so if it succeeds, that’ll be great for all of us. If it fails, well, that’ll be quite bad for you. And, of course, the others are right. It is morbid. This takes the actuarial data you’ve been working with and focuses in very specifically on terminal illness. Are you sure you can handle it?”
“I’m sure,” Andi said. “I mean, after all, we’re talking about, like, lung cancer patients and emphysema and AIDS, right? These people all did themselves in, really.”
Mr. Clark nodded enthusiastically. “That’s right. AIDS is the big one. Most people with AIDS are gay men, so they have no wives, no children… Most of them don’t have the standard beneficiaries for their life insurance. It’s a win-win.”
Andi looked over the briefs and reports that Mr. Clark had prepared for this meeting. It did seem fairly foolproof, with a solid business model. And she would finally be promoted to a VP position. She was desperate to get out of the management spot that had dragged her spirit down for so long.
“I’m in,” she said. “I’m your person.”
Mr. Clark nodded and smiled. He stood up and offered his hand. Andi shook it. “Fantastic,” he said. “We’re looking forward to seeing how it goes. We’ll have Sales generate some leads, but for the first few cases, anyway, it’s going to be you heading up the sales effort. You’ll be signing the first handful.”
Andi cocked her head. “Me? Selling clients on this? That’s fine. I’ll be happy to. They’ll need some guidance through the process, anyway, and they’ll be going through some tough times in their lives. They’ll need someone to help them out.” She cared much less about helping out these faggots and smokers and alcoholics who pissed their lives away.
“Fantastic. The new Vice President of Great Lakes Viatication. The forecast is to have four viatical settlements by the end of the fiscal year.”
“That gives me, what a little over six months?”
“Almost seven months until the end of April, yes. Then, fiscal year 1989 will see that number increase. The pressure’s on now, Andrea!” He laughed heartily, a full, cocky, boasting, irritating kind of laugh.
Andi hadn’t been crazy about Mr. Clark before, but whenever she spent any time with him, she liked him less and less.
He looked her up and down. “You know, Andrea,” he said, eyes lingering on her chest for a moment before returning to make eye contact, “the board wasn’t sure a woman was a good fit for this position.”
“Well, I’m glad you could convince them,” she said, uncertain of where this was headed. Hadn’t he already offered her the job? What was he getting at?
“They might still need a little convincing,” he said. “I know I’m totally sold. I know you have many… talents that you can put to good use here, right?”
“Right,” she said hesitantly.
He walked around his desk and sat on the edge of it. Andi felt that he was uncomfortably close. She suddenly felt very alone in Mr. Clark’s large corner office. “Good, good. This is a huge career move for you. Big promotion.” He stood again and walked behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders and started gently massaging. “We should celebrate,” he said, his voice now low and slightly hoarse.
Andi started to panic. Clark was a creep, sure enough, but now she wondered what would happen if she didn’t respond to his “hints.” She could lose her job. He had that kind of authority. She glanced around the office. The blinds to the hallway were drawn. The door was closed. There was an off-white leather sofa along the wall, the large wooden desk in front of her, generic office art on the walls. They were completely alone in here. She swallowed hard.
“Should we?” she asked. She could hear the quiver in her voice, and hoped Clark didn’t pick up on it.
“You’re a very beautiful woman,” he practically hummed into her ear. It was a bad attempt at a bedroom voice.
Andi was still facing away from him. She closed her eyes tight. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, she thought. VP, new business division, office, parking spot… All I have to do is let this bastard have his way with me. Fuck, if I don’t, he could go so far as to fire me. “Thank you, Mr. Clark,” she said.
“Please, Andrea, call me Larry.” He continued to rub her shoulders, then she felt him run his thumbs up the bare skin of her neck.
She made what she hoped would come across as a sensual moan. Resigned to her fate, she decided to get on with it and get it over with. She tipped her head back slightly and leaned back into him. She could feel his erection through his pants against the back of her head. He made a low moaning sound, then he swiveled the chair around to face him.
She tipped her head up to look at him straight in the eyes. He licked his lips. She wasn’t ready to lose her job. This is how women get ahead in big corporations all the time, isn’t it? After all, she’d been on dates, willingly, and been with guys creepier and sleazier than Clark. What the hell am I doing? She stifled the heavy, resigned sigh that almost overwhelmed her. She reached up and unzipped his pants, maneuvered through the fly of his burgundy, silk boxers, and took him into her mouth.
Half an hour later, after he’d finished, she collected her bra, panties, blouse, and skirt from the floor and hurriedly dressed. He watched her through satisfied, drooping eyes. “Congratulations, Ms. Leeds. You got the job. The board will be suitably impressed with your resume.” He grinned at her. “You let me know if you need any more career advice.”
“Thanks, Larry,” she said while she slipped into her shoes and buttoned her blouse. “I appreciate the opportunity.” She didn’t know how to leave gracefully, so she just said, “Thanks,” again, and slipped out the door. She barely made it into the stall in the ladies room before she started sobbing. She grabbed a fistful of toilet paper to wipe herself down. It was cheap, thin, single ply toiler paper and it tore and shredded around the sticky mess. It took longer for her to stop crying than it had taken Larry Clark to fuck her, and all day long, she couldn’t shake the smell of his cum inside her.
chapter 9
Gen was pacing back and forth across the front of Mrs. Gates’ classroom after school. She was talking very fast, barely pausing for breath.
“And I just think it would be good for him to interact with some other people, you know? I know freshmen don’t usually form clubs and I don’t know if anyone would even want to join it but he is good at this stuff and he’s really into it and we need a teacher sponsor in order to start a new club.”
Mrs. Gates watched Gen in her agitation. “Calm down, Genevieve.”
Gen kept pacing. “I just... We just need to get him out of the house. He needs to talk to people at school. And I don’t know anyone who knows more about computers than he does. I’ll run all the club stuff and do the, like, minutes and room reservations and flyers and everything. He just has to do the computery stuff and talk to people.”
“Miss Summers,” Mrs. Gates said, “Calm down.”
Gen kept her pacing. “There are plenty of other clubs, I know, but we don’t have a computer club. And I’m just --”
“Sit down, Miss Summers,” Mrs. Gates commanded in her teacher voice. “Now.”
Gen halted abruptly and stared at Mrs. Gates. Her jaw hung slightly in surprise.
“Now,” Mrs. Gates said again.
Gen sat down at the closest desk. “Sorry.”
“That’s all right, Genevieve. I’m worried about Jim, too. He’s been so
withdrawn for so long. I would happily sponsor your computer club, but I’m just not sure that Jim can handle it. What did he say about it?”
Gen looked at the ground. “I...”
“You haven’t asked him.”
“No,” admitted Gen. “I wanted to talk to you about it first. There’s no point in asking him if we couldn’t get a sponsor and I wouldn’t want to get his hopes up or get him excited about something only to find out we couldn’t do it. That might make it worse!”
“Genevieve,” Mrs. Gates said, “Jim needs help.”
“I’m trying to help!”
“You are not a therapist.”
“Oh,” said Gen. “That kind of help.”
Mrs. Gates looked at her with a patient, kind expression on her face. “Yes. That kind of help.”
“His dad would never go for it. He’d never put Jimmy into therapy or anything like that. That’s why I thought... I thought maybe I could help him. I thought maybe just coming out of his shell might help him.”
“Why this sudden interest?”
“It’s...” started Gen, suddenly embarrassed. “It’s not really a sudden interest, I mean.”
“Ah. And he doesn’t know about... any of this?”
Gen shook her head and looked at the floor again. “No. I didn’t want to put any more pressure on him, and I mean... I dunno.”
Mrs. Gates looked at Gen and picked up a staple remover from her desk. She started closing and opening the staple remover. She didn’t say anything, she simply kept fidgeting with the staple remover.
Gen looked back and Mrs. Gates, expectantly. She didn’t know what else to say. “I dunno, Mrs. Gates,” she began. “I guess I just felt inspired to do something, you know? I just... I need to help him.”
“And the computer club?”
“Well, I think that’s a great idea, too. I didn’t just make it up as something to get Jimmy out of the house. Well, maybe I did, but I still think it’s a great idea. There’s a bunch of kids who have computers. I’m sure that we’ll get people together.”
“I don’t disagree.”
Gen’s eyes widened in surprise. Her voice was full of hope and relief. “You mean you’ll do it, then?”
Mrs. Gates took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then gracefully let it out. Somehow she managed to make it sound exactly like she took a deep breath, and not like she was sighing heavily. Gen was relieved to hear it. “Yes,” Mrs. Gates said. “I’ll sign your petition and be your teacher sponsor so you can start the club. You’re right, this isn’t something that freshmen usually do. But I have a condition. It’s very noble of you to try to help your friend, but I know that all of this is more for him than for you. I don’t want you to be stuck with a responsibility that you don’t want. You have to make sure that you really mean this and you’re dedicated to it.”
“Oh, I am!”
“Please, I’m not finished.”
“Sorry.”
“I’ll only do this,” Mrs. Gates said, “if Jim comes and asks me himself.”
Gen’s eyes got wide and her mouth opened again in surprise. “But he’ll...”
“If he wants to do this, he’ll have to take the first step.”
Gen frowned and crossed her arms. She slouched in the seat, trying hard not to make a little girl pouty face.
“Deal?” Mrs. Gates asked.
Gen took a deep breath, but when she exhaled, it sounded exactly like a heavy, exasperated sigh. “Yeah, I guess so,” she said. Her voice was heavy with disappointment. She nodded her head, resolute. “Deal.”
-
Gen braced herself and rang Jim’s doorbell, three times immediately in a row like she did when they were kids. Ding-a-ding-a-ding-dong.
A minute or so went by and Jim opened the door. Jim looked confused. “Hi, Gen-with-a-G.”
“Hey, Jimmy,” Gen said, trying to sound peppy. “Can I come in?”
“I’m not really supposed to have anyone over when my dad’s not home.”
“You know he won’t be home for hours,” Gen argued. “Besides, you really think he’ll freak out on you if you have a friend over? I’d think he’d be happy.” Then she mentally smacked herself, afraid she’d gone too far. She always felt like she was one word away from putting her entire foot in her mouth when she talked with Jimmy, especially lately.
Jim shrugged and stepped aside. “Okay.” She stepped inside and he closed the door behind her.
She kicked off her shoes, then walked into the living room and sat down on the love seat, curling her feet under her and putting her elbow over the back of the small sofa.
“What... uh... What’s up?” Jim asked, visibly uncomfortable.
“I just came over to talk and say hi and...” Gen sighed. “No, that isn’t why I came over. I mean, I do want to talk. I mean, I have something I want to talk about.” She was flustered and she felt her cheeks getting hot.
Jim just looked at her, both of his eyebrows raised slightly.
“Okay,” she continued, “I have a great idea for school. You were saying that you kinda wanted to hang around with some other kids a bit, but might want to ease into it and all, so I had this idea for how to do that.”
“I am not having a party in my house,” Jim said firmly.
“A party?” Gen asked, surprised. “No, that wasn’t what I was thinking about at all!”
“Okay, then. Go on.”
“Okay, see, I have this idea for something to do at school. We don’t have a computer club. Did you know that? I think we should start one.”
“You want to start a computer club? Do you even have a computer?”
“Well, no, but you do. And I don’t want to start a computer club. I want us to start a computer club. Together!” She mentally smacked herself again, cringing at using the word “together.”
Jim furrowed his brow, thinking. “I dunno, Gen,” he said. “I just don’t think I’m ready. I don’t think I can face that many people and have them make fun of me or think I’m a freak or that I’m psycho or anything.”
“Stop it. Nobody thinks you’re a freak and nobody thinks you’re psycho. Everybody understands. But that’s not the point, anyway. They can’t make fun of you here because you’re the leader! You’re the authority! You know more than any of them do, even the other, like, computery kids.”
“Are freshmen even allowed to form new clubs?”
“If they get a teacher sponsor, they are.”
Jim looked at her, trying to prompt her to give him more information.
“Mrs. Gates said she’d do it. I already asked.”
“You already asked? You formed this club without knowing anything about computers and then you tried to come recruit me into your little posse?”
“No!” Gen said, louder than she’d intended. “No,” she said more softly, “I wanted to make sure this was something we could even do before I came and talked to you about it. Because if you did want to do it and then we found out we couldn’t even do it, then I didn’t want you... to...”
“You didn’t want me to feel worse.”
“Right.”
Jim leaned forward on the recliner and put his elbows on his knees. He tapped his fingers together. “What if it’s too much? What if I can’t take it, with all those kids? I can’t sit with them at lunch because I’m too worried about how they’ll act around me. Or what they’ll say to me.”
“That’s the beauty of this plan! Listen, you don’t have to hang out with anyone for longer than the club meetings. One hour every two weeks after school. You do one hour and then you can go home or whatever. It’s not like you’re being forced to spend all day with these guys.”
Jim nodded slowly.
“Plus, you don’t have to worry about small talk or trying to come up with things to say or anything because you’re running a club meeting. You can have an agenda and you can talk about stuff or show stuff or talk about games or programming or whatever you want to talk about. They will have to l
isten to you. You won’t have to figure out how to interact with them without feeling weird yourself.”
“You’ve really put a lot of thought into this,” he said. “How long have you been scheming?”
“Scheming?” she objected. “I’m not scheming!” She realized she was getting louder again, but she couldn’t help it. “I’m trying to help you!”
“Why?” Jim shot back, just as loud. “Why are you so obsessed with helping me? Why can’t you just leave me alone like everyone else?”
“Because I can’t! Because we’ve been best friends since we were babies!” She was almost yelling now. “Because we used to have fun! Because I miss you!”
Jim slouched back into the recliner and gazed up at the ceiling.
“I miss you, Jimmy,” Gen said.
Jim didn’t say anything. He just kept looking at the ceiling. Gen waited for a minute, becoming more and more embarrassed by the second. Finally, she couldn’t take anymore wondering what the hell Jim was thinking of, so she started to stand up. “Forget it,” she said.
“No,” Jim said. He sat up and looked at her. She could see that his eyelashes were wet with tears. “I miss you, too.”
Gen tilted her head and gave him a puppy-dog look.
“I’m sorry. I miss you, Genny. I miss hanging out with you and going to the mall with you and all the rest of the crazy stuff we got up to. I just haven’t had the energy to do it. And I... I figured you were sick of my moping around and why would you want to hang out with me when I’m so emotional all the time?”
“I don’t care if you’re emotional. Boys can cry, too, you know.”
“You’re the only one I ever let see me like this.”
“I know,” Gen said. “But you don’t have to be alone. You still have me. I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”
“You can’t say that for certain. Nobody stays forever.”
“Okay. You’re right. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be your friend for as long as I possibly can.” She stood up and opened her arms wide. “C’mere.”
Jim sat up again, but hesitated. Gen took a step toward him and offered her hands to him. When he didn’t take them, she reached down, took his hands into hers, and pulled him to his feet, then opened her arms wide again. He took the step toward her and she wrapped her arms around him. He put his arms around her, too.
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