More Bang for His Buck

by Madelene Martin

  The waiter had somehow snuck into the room and was hovering as unobtrusively as possible to the side.

  “What would you like?” Rick asked.

  “What are you having?”

  “Hmm. Probably a steak.”

  “Sounds good to me. Medium rare.”

  He grinned, and ordered for us.

  “Well, then.” He leaned forward, clasping his hands and leaning his chin on them lightly. “I suppose we’d better talk shop.”

  “Sure.” I nodded, placing my glass down, and after a moment’s hesitation, picked up the bottle to pour more. I noticed his glass was nearly empty, and topped it up too.

  “Well. Where do I start… I don’t have time for much of a social life, Jessie. When I do go out, its work related.”

  I nodded, listening patiently.

  “I was married, for a few years. It… ended badly.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” I wasn’t, entirely.

  He smiled. “Never mind. Anyway, my point is - like anyone else, I’d love to have companionship. But I haven’t found time to get to that point with anyone. I’ve dated, but haven’t found anyone I clicked with, to be honest. I’m tired of it.” He looked at me, with a half-smile.

  “I thought you wanted to hire me, not… date me,” I said hesitantly.

  Rick chuckled to himself. “This is hard to explain. Forgive me. I do need an assistant, but its more than that. I’m looking for a companion. Not a - a girlfriend - just someone to share my time with. If that’s as far as it goes, that’s fine by me.” He picked up his wine glass, and took a long, slow drink, his eyes locked on mine.

  I couldn’t hide the fact that I was taken aback. “You want to pay me to spend time with you?” My right eyebrow raised of its own accord, and all my pretence of a professional demeanour went out the window.

  “Pretty much. I’ll pay for your accommodation, expenses, and provide a generous allowance. Of course, with work and - hopefully - a little social time, it may be long hours.”

  I swallowed. This could not be real.

  “If you’ll allow me to be honest, for a moment, Jessie…” He raised his eyebrows, as though asking me for permission.

  A small laugh burst from my lips. “Of course.”

  “I think you are a very attractive woman. And not the type of woman I normally meet. I knew there was something different about you from the first time I saw you.” He gave a wry smile, still looking into my eyes. “I realize I barely know you - but I’d like to. And if we end up as friends, well, at least I believe you’re the type of friend who’d be honest with me. I have enough yes-men.”

  Breathing out a soft breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding, I laughed quietly in disbelief. He couldn’t be serious. Guys like him didn’t go for girls like me - they wanted stick-figures like the receptionists at Tableau, not women with big boobs and asses. A thought occurred to me, and before I could stop myself, I’d already blurted it out.

  “Are you gay?” I asked, feeling my blushing reaction to my own stupidity before the words had even left my lips.

  “I’m sorry?” And he laughed.

  “I wondered if you were looking for… like, a… a beard. I’ve done the duty for James a couple of times. When meeting his parents and whatnot. They didn’t know about his orientation until recently-“ I stopped short, realising I was babbling. “Oh god.” I murmured quietly, grabbing my glass and downing my wine. “I did not just ask my potential boss that question.”

  Rick laughed again. “It’s okay.” He said in between chuckles. Then he reached his hand out and briefly patted mine where it lay on the table.

  I looked up, meeting his sparkling eyes and lopsided smile, and blushed some more. But an answering smile spread on my face, and I found myself giggling.

  “No. I’m most assuredly not.” He said with a grin, after I had finished laughing.

  Our food arrived, and we ate quietly for a few minutes. We discussed salary and perks and other work-related things. The steak was outrageously delicious and the salad fresh and crispy. I kept drinking wine, despite feeling increasingly clumsy with my comments. I tended to put my foot in my mouth enough sober, without adding to the issue.

  “So…” I said quietly, still holding a fork in my hand and watching him eat. “You want to give me accommodation, pay me to travel, socialise, and do some typing on the side? Oh”- I added, “and hang out with you.” I didn’t voice the other thought that was running through my mind - that what he wanted was some kind of ‘Kept Woman’… a prospect that, to be honest, wasn’t entirely unappealing anyway.

  “Pretty much.” He nodded, speaking with his mouth full.

  “Wow, sign me up.” I said, and took a big bite of salad.

  “Really?”

  “Hell, yes,” I enthused. “You know what I do at work right now?”

  “You… tend bar.”

  “Yeah, I get paid to serve drinks to drunk people, fend off perverts and occasionally clean up vomit in the bathroom.”

  “Ah, I see. It sounds more interesting than what I do.”

  I giggled. “Yeah, it probably is.”

  He was smiling. There was an intensity in his eyes that I noticed most when I teased him like that. I enjoyed it.

  We finished the meal, and another bottle of wine was fetched.

  “Why did you book this entire room? Too good to eat with the regular people?” I asked, somewhere into my fourth glass.

  Rick scoffed. “Well, no. But I hate noise and interruptions. Don’t you?”

  And like ill fate, I heard the ringtone of a phone. It buzzed on the table next to him. He stopped, sat up straight and picked it up to look at it. Then, to my astonishment, he screwed up his face, turned the phone upside down, and dropped it into his drink.

  I think that’s the moment when I decided I wanted to jump him.

  Rick ordered dessert. I ordered iced coffee. And I kept shaking my head no when he offered me a bite of his mud cake, even though I secretly wanted to feed it to me like in one of those cheesy chick flicks.

  It was a surprisingly nice time. After the initial work talk, we forgot all about business and talked about inconsequential things. Favorite movies. Music. Philosophy. Time passed quickly, and at around ten o’clock Rick looked at his watch.

  “Yeah, I suppose we should be going.” I conceded, smiling, and feeling slightly tipsy.

  “Hmm?” He looked up. “Oh no, I was just thinking I don’t really feel like going home yet. Do you?”

  I shook my head earnestly.

  “Where do you like to go on Friday nights?”

  I didn’t want to tell him that for the last few weeks, I went home to watch movies and fall asleep on the couch.

  “Well… I sometimes hang out at the place I work,” I said, which was true, when my friends weren’t all busy. “It’s actually a really fun club.”

  “Well then, let’s go there. Unless you’re tired?”

  I grinned, liquid courage coursing through my veins. “That depends,” I said coyly. Do I have the job?”

  He stared into my eyes with that intense gaze. “Yep.” He said sombrely.

  “Not even going to take any of the other candidates out for dinner?” I teased.

  “No.”

  He wrote a check, and offered his arm to me as we left. I snickered at his proper, gentlemanly manner which seemed so incongruous with his appearance. Hell, he wasn’t even dressed up enough for the club. I laughed louder, thinking about how funny it would be if they refused him due to dress code.

  “Neither of us should drive,” I realised aloud, clutching his forearm more for balance than anything. Though I couldn’t help but notice the firmness of said arm.

  “Its taken care of,” he answered easily.

  It was - he had a driver waiting outside, in his black car.

  We sat in the back and I stared out the window as we drove, entranced by the city lights. For some reason, I felt lighter and more carefree than I had in a lo
ng while.

  ***

  The club was full as it always was on Friday nights. I normally tried to avoid working then. But I didn’t mind walking in with a handsome billionaire on my arm, I had to admit. He somehow found us one of the small tables and we sat for a minute. But I refused another drink. I was in danger of losing my composure as it was.

  “Do you dance?” Rick asked, shouting to be heard above the din of dance music.

  “I love to dance!” I answered back loudly. It was true - I did love to dance, but normally only with a group of girlfriends around me. But the music was catchy and I was in a good mood, and I was already moving with the beat a little.

  “You should go up there,” He yelled, as we leaned closer together in order to be heard. He jerked his head toward the dance floor where young people gyrated and grinded against each other.

  I screwed up my face. “Really?”

  “Sure! I’d like to see you dance.”

  “Are you coming with me?” I grinned impishly.

  He laughed. “No. I want to watch you.”

  A little thrill of excitement went through me. Did he really find me attractive? I examined his face closely, squinting a little. His expression was serene and earnest. So I left my handbag on the table in front of him and ran off to the dance floor.

  I danced alone amongst the crowd of people, knowing I was being watched, and I’m not ashamed to say I put a little seduction into my moves. I gave into the music and let it flow over me, lost among the milling, grinding bodies.

  It was a long while before I stopped, exhausted, and realising how thirsty I was. So I went to the bar to order water, waving off the questions of Cindy, one of my fellow bartenders, pretending I couldn’t hear her.

  I took my icy water back to the table and eased up onto a stool, with some effort.

  “Nice moves.”

  “Ha.” I sipped deeply through my straw.

  Rick laughed easily. “I mean it. You looked like you were having fun.”

  “You don’t dance?”

  “I do. Not normally among a crowd, though.”

  “At home by yourself?” I grinned. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I do it.”

  “I enjoy dancing with a partner, in a more intimate setting. But I did like watching you.”

  I crossed one leg over the other, letting my foot swing carelessly.

  We talked/yelled conversationally for a while, and after a time I noticed he was checking his watch more frequently.

  “You have to go?” I asked, gesturing at the watch.

  He sighed. “I’m really sorry Jess, yeah. I have a few things I absolutely need to get done early in the morning.”

  I giggled. “Don’t apologize - you’re the one conducting this interview.”

  So we left, and I took his arm easily this time. I was tired, and still a little fuzzy from the alcohol. I told the driver where I lived and we started the drive home. I nodded a little in the back, and fought the urge to rest my head on Rick’s shoulder.

  He opened the door for me, gentlemanly again, and I stepped out, trying to preserve my modesty as my skirt rode up my thighs.

  He looked up at my building. “Do you need to go up stairs? Are you going to make it?”

  I giggled. “Not many stairs. I’ll be fine. I have done this drunk many times.”

  “Oh really?” He asked, a teasing note in his voice.

  I chastised myself. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t say that, okay?”

  He was standing close to me, before the big double doors at the entrance to the building. I still held onto his arm.

  “I had a good night, Jessie. Thanks for showing me where you work.”

  “Me too. Umm, thanks for dinner!” I answered. I licked my lips. He was tall, and looked down on me even in my heels. He really was unspeakably hot. “Just how inappropriate would it be for me to kiss you right now?” I blurted out.

  He smiled, with a little laugh. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

  So I reached up and curled my hand around the back of his neck, and drew him in for a long, slow kiss. His lips were soft and dry, and his breath tasted like wine when he parted them slightly. Unwittingly, I pressed my body closer to his, and felt his hand rest lightly on the small of my back. Little bursts of excitement bubbled up in the pit of my stomach - and lower - and I fought to restrain myself, flicking the very tip of my tongue over his lip before gently pulling away.

  His body was firm, and he held me comfortably, looking down on my face with his soft smile. I could feel the evidence of his arousal pressed against me, and my own answering throb. With difficulty, I removed my arms from his neck.

  “I’ll see you on Monday.” He murmured, putting his hands on my waist as we reluctantly disengaged, leaving me feeling weak. “We’ll sign those contracts.”

  I smiled and nodded, biting my lip to stop myself from making a fool of myself by inviting him up. “Goodnight, Rick.” I said instead.

  “Goodnight Jess.”

  He watched my back as I entered and walked up the first few steps. I had to take off my heels to make it upstairs on my shaky legs. I stripped off my clothes as soon as I made it inside, and fell into my bed. But as tired as I was, sleep was out of reach. My skin prickled. I still felt his lips on mine, his hardness pressed against my hip, his arm around me.

  Unthinking, I ran my hands over my body, cupping my heavy breasts, lazily teasing the nipples. My fingers trailed down over the soft rise of my stomach and found the small patch of hair between my legs. I brushed them over my wetness, rubbing my clit, then slipped one easily inside. I imagined his fingers on me, rubbing, stroking. I wanted to feel his strong hands on my hips. His tongue… oh god. My climax came quickly, and I cried out in short bursts as the shocks of pleasure rocked my body.

  I was immediately suffused by a warm, comforting fatigue. Wrapping the sheets around me with a smile on my face, I slept.

  ***

  The weekend dragged.

  On Monday morning, I was up early, eager to get to work… And though I struggled to admit it to myself, eager to see Rick again.

  I dressed conservatively. The button-down shirt I chose was a little tight, and my breasts strained against the fabric, but with my short skirt and black stockings the overall effect was good. I allowed myself red lipstick, and pulled my hair back.

  The receptionist was expecting me, and ushered me into Rick’s office. He wasn’t in - she directed me into the little room off to the side, and I entered. It was small but the view was the same vast cityscape, and there was a spacious desk, and a couple of indoor plants. I took a look at the equipment, checking out the phones and computer while I waited for Rick, or at least someone, to tell me what to do.

  Half an hour later I heard him noisily enter, and peeked around the doorway to look in on his office. Seeing him had just the effect on me that I suspected it would - unexplained happiness bubbling up from within me, and I smiled to myself. He was dressed in a charcoal suit, looking harried and busy - the complete opposite of his relaxed self at dinner. The reading glasses were back, and he was carrying large folders and poster boards. I watched as he put it all down. Then, feeling like an eavesdropper, I knocked on the doorway to get his attention.

  Rick’s head jerked up, and a tired smile spread over his face immediately. “Good morning,” he said. “Glad to see you didn’t change your mind.” He leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Why on Earth would I change my mind?” I asked, laughingly. I wasn’t sure how to approach him. The way we’d said goodnight the other day made it awkward. I didn’t want to appear unprofessional, but I didn’t want to be cold either.

  Luckily, he directed me to sit down while he moved to his big leather chair. He rummaged around in drawers for a moment while I silently watched, and produced some paperwork for me to sign. I could feel his eyes on me while I went over it.

  “How do you like your little closet?” He asked while I w
orked.

  I smiled vaguely, filling in my contact details. “It’s great!” I said. “Nice plants.” I tried hard not to be distracted by his closeness. Working for him might prove challenging in certain ways.

  Fortunately, Rick put me at ease with his casual manner, and soon left me to figure out how everything worked. I familiarised myself with his schedule, the mail system and the computers. Eventually I was able to distract myself from the memory of kissing him and concentrate on my work.

  He asked me to order lunch and I took care of it, hoping he liked chinese food. I went to retreat to my office, but he stopped me, pointing to the comfortable couches. We sat opposite each other, and talked while we ate. I learned a little more about his work, and he asked me questions about myself. He took his shoes off to relax for a while.

  “I have to confess,” he said suddenly, during a quite unrelated conversation. “I’ve been thinking about you since Friday night.”

  I paused, chopsticks halfway to my mouth. “Oh?” I said noncommittally, wondering if he’d thought of me in the exact way I’d thought of him that night.

  “Mmhmm.”

  My face was growing heated. I wished I could keep from blushing every time he looked at me sideways. But his words excited me. And I went right back to imagining his kiss. His soft lips, his strong arms.

  “Well,” I ventured, “I had a really nice time.”

  “I wonder if you’d like to come over sometime, and see my place.”

  My heart beat a little faster. “Of course. I’ll have to get used to it, if I’m going to pick up your laundry and water your plants.” I joked, silently wondering what his bedroom was like.

  “What are you doing after work?”

  “Nothing. But let me go home and get changed first.” I wanted to look nice - like myself, not dressed in boring office-wear. Plus, I wanted to wear my sexiest lingerie.

  “Deal. I’ll send a car for you.”

  I decided to go with that. After all I was officially working for him now. And at least now I was relatively sure he wasn’t a serial killer.