by G E Griffin
Little Miss Jones was dressed in a somewhat unconventional outfit. Most of the women at the office wore trouser suits, but she was wearing a short skirt with lacy patterned tights and funny little ankle boots that had suede tassels hanging from the back. For some reason, on her that combination looked incredibly sexy – I have no idea why as I'm most definitely a stockings and stilettos man.
She stood there glaring defiantly at me with these astonishing green eyes, as if daring me to send her packing. Those eyes were set in a beautiful heart shaped face, and her smooth complexion was a very pale alabaster, just heightened with a tinge of pink, the only thing slightly betraying the nerves she must have been feeling. And I realised my brother had been wrong when he’d described her as pretty. She wasn’t. She was beautiful. Unquestionably Seraphina Jones was a natural beauty, and I began to understand why Jamie was so obsessed, as I found myself staring to take in every detail about her.
Suddenly a picture popped into my head of those long legs wrapped tightly around me as I fucked her hard, while she moaned and writhed under me, her nails raking my back. I want her. I shook my head to dispel the image. Clearly my recent lack of sex was playing havoc with my head, and I needed to organise a good hard fuck to restore my equilibrium as a matter of priority. In any case, Jamie had told me this female was a frigid virgin, possibly a lesbian, and that she had issues about men touching her. So she really wasn’t even worth fantasizing about.
As we shook hands, I felt a shock of electricity shoot through me. I made a mental note to have the carpets sprayed to get rid of the static electricity that must have built up to have had such a pronounced effect. That was the only logical explanation, and I made no comment about it.
All these thoughts passed in a matter of seconds, before my head righted itself to get on with the matter in hand.
To say that I was pissed that so many members of my staff had failed to get into work today was an understatement. I thought it was pathetic. I had managed to, and to her credit, so had Miss Jones. She’d walked in, she stated. That was a distance of several miles and I had to admit I was impressed. I remembered Jamie telling me she was desperate for an internship and how he’d virtually begged me to give her a place, so I guessed that explained why she had made the extra effort to get here today, which I respected. One point in her favour.
And she was a feisty little thing. The way she calmly put me to rights over her ability to make this presentation quite frankly amused me, so I sat back to see what she would come up with, knowing she must have been dropped into doing it at the very last minute, and that she was stuck with presenting other people’s ideas, which is never an easy thing to do. She was going to have to think on her feet, so I decided I’d push her, see what she was capable of, because she intrigued me.
Little Miss Jones efficiently worked through the flip charts and slides of the proposed changes. She explained each of the three proposals very clearly. She impressed me. But the contents of the presentation did not. Bitterly disappointed me more like. What a waste of time.
“I thought I’d made it perfectly clear to Simon’s team that I wanted something much more striking, not just the same old shit rehashed,” I fumed. I wasn’t going to go easy on her just because she was the intern.
“I think if you would just take the time to look more closely, Mr. Starr, you’ll find there are actually quite significant differences, which will help to create a different and more vibrant image for Starr Capital Ventures,” she bravely persisted.
“Bullshit, Miss Jones. I shouldn’t have to look more closely. That’s the whole point. I want something that jumps out at me. I don't expect to have to get a measure out to discover the font is a size smaller, or the underlining is fractionally thicker.”
I was furious. What the hell had the team been spending all their time doing, if this was the best they could come up with?
“I believe your brief was quite specific with regard to what you would and would not find acceptable, sir. The team worked extremely hard within those restrictive confines to come up with every possible concept,” she challenged, looking me straight in the eye.
“So basically I got what I asked for? Is that what you’re saying Miss Jones?” I asked her, not quite able to believe my ears.
She shrugged, as she calmly replied.
“My understanding is that the team have produced exactly what you specified. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Fuck me! This young slip of a girl actually had the guts to tell me this disaster was all of my own doing.
“Okay. Let’s cut all the crap shall we? You agree these proposals are shit?” Miss Jones sighed, as she slowly nodded her head in defeat. I continued. “There’s nothing different here whatsoever. The new image looks exactly the same as the old, yes? And be totally honest, it’ll make a refreshing change.”
“They’re pretty rubbish,” she agreed. “But with respect, Mr. Starr, what did you expect? You have a creative team that you don't allow to be creative in the slightest, because you lay down the law about all the things you won’t even consider.”
“Well, why didn't they confront me and force me to consider other options, rather than waste everybody’s time with this banal crap?”
“You want me to be polite, or give you the honest truth?”
“ I’d prefer the brutal honest truth.”
“They’re scared of you; scared of losing their jobs. You intimidate them.”
“So how come you’re not scared to tell me how it really is?”
“Because I’m only the intern. I’ve got the reference I need, and I’ll be gone in another week, so what have I got to lose? But for them it’s their livelihood, their careers. Rob’s had enough so he’s moving on; he’s leaving at the end of the month. Tom sticks it out and works really hard because his wife’s having a baby, so he’s now their sole provider, and Simon thinks he’s too old to get another job at the same level, and is scared of losing his pension. So they kowtow to you and try their best to please you. They give you exactly what you say you want to avoid confrontation.”
I sat and stared at Seraphina Jones. I had a team of yes men, she was telling me.
“So what the hell am I going to do about the revamp? I’ve set up a whole raft of meetings in the States on the basis of having a new image to work with and now I've got nothing. I’ll have to cancel the whole lot and start again. It’s taken me months to build up these contacts too.”
“There is another possibility, Mr Starr,” a man’s voice said, and we both turned to see Rob Lewis standing in the doorway.
“So kind of you to join us,” I said witheringly, as I pointedly looked at my watch.
“It’s been a little tricky getting into work today, in case you hadn’t noticed, Mr. Starr. So, it’s a case of better late than never. I did ring to say I was on my way, but no one answered the phone. Anyway, I’m here now,” he replied.
I let his insolent attitude pass, intrigued to discover what he could possibly be offering by way of a solution.
“So what’s this other possibility?”
“Sera’s been working on her own designs, as part of a project for her university coursework. Some of the ideas she’s mentioned sounded pretty good, actually. They might be worth your consideration. If you’d be open minded enough to consider other options, that is.”
“No, Rob, I really don’t think Mr Starr would be interested…” Seraphina protested.
“Show me,” I demanded. So far this young girl had surprised me at every turn, so who knew? She might just be the answer to my prayers.
“Go on, Sera. What have you got to lose?” Rob urged, seeing her reluctant attitude.
“I…I...haven’t got anything here. I only work on them in the evenings at home. And anyway, they don't conform to your brief, Mr Starr. In the slightest, actually.”
“From what you’ve been telling me, that sounds like a very good thing, wouldn’t you say?” I asked her wryly.
“I suppos
e you have a point there,” she conceded with a small smile.
I stood up, and headed for the door.
“Well, come on then, get your coat. I haven't got all day.”
“I’m sorry? What do you mean?”
“Let’s go and look at these designs of yours. Rob can hold the fort for the team here. I need to make a decision one way or another today, whether to cancel the whole project or push it through. Joy told me earlier all my meetings for today have been cancelled, so come on, let’s go.”
~*~
Of course I knew the way to my brother’s house. The roads were only slightly busier than usual as the morning rush hour had cleared, and we were going against it anyway. I’d driven in to the office this morning in my everyday runabout BMW X5 rather than risk my new Aston Martin Vanquish in any potential traffic jams, but as I’d ensured I left even earlier than usual, I really hadn’t encountered too many delays.
I glanced over at Miss Jones, sitting in the passenger seat. She hadn’t bothered to try and make irritating small talk, which pleased me, as I can't abide inane chatter.
“So, you have just a week left of your placement with us?”
“That’s correct.”
“And then what?”
“Back to uni to complete my final course work.”
“I think my brother mentioned something about an exchange program you’d applied for?” I wanted to get a clearer idea of when she’d be gone and when he was likely to get her out of his system to get back to his normal self.
“Yes, I’ve been short listed, but I won’t know if I’ve been successful until the results are out.”
“And if you’re successful, where will you be located?”
“There are several possibilities. My preferred location would be New York, but Barcelona is another option. I’d take anything that offered me suitable experience, because it’s crucial for me to build up my experience and add to my portfolio, if I want to make headway in my career.”
“So that’s why you’ve been working on your own on my company’s design project?”
“Well partly yes, but it just so happened that it fitted in with my latest course work assignment for university. I…I hope you don't mind that I’ve being doing this, do you, Mr Starr? I have been completing it in my own time in the evenings, not at work. Perhaps I should have asked your permission first…” she suddenly looked worried, as a frown creased her face.
“Yes, perhaps you should have, Miss Jones. I’ll reserve judgement until I see if we might be able to use anything you’ve produced.”
I wasn’t entirely convinced this young female student could produce anything worthwhile, when my own dedicated three man team hadn’t been able to. It was a long shot at best, but I felt it warranted checking out. I might be scraping the bottom of the barrel, but sometimes that’s where you found the hidden treasure.
We pulled up outside the house, where luckily there was a parking space available behind Jamie’s car for once. Seraphina quickly jumped out to make her way to the front door, fumbling for her keys while I followed behind.
Having fought our way through the usual tangle of dirty shoes and trainers piled in the entrance hall, she started heading for the stairs, but then stopped and turned to me.
“Could you give me a few minutes to sort my work into some sort of a presentation for you, Mr. Starr, because there is quite a lot to get through? Maybe it would be better if you waited in the kitchen, perhaps help yourself to a coffee, and then I could bring it down to you?”
“I’ll take things as I find them. No point in hauling it all down, because if memory serves, you’re in the attic room. We’ll be here all bloody day otherwise.”
“Okay, just give me a minute to get things in order, as obviously I wasn't expecting you to come round,” she replied.
As she went upstairs, Jamie appeared at his bedroom door, yawning and stretching, all messy hair and barely decent in just his pyjama bottoms. Clearly the lazy sod had only just got out of bed, even though it had already gone eleven in the morning.
“Hi, Babe. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work, busily making cups of tea for all my brother’s minions?” He grinned as he grabbed hold of her to try and kiss her.
“Not now, Jamie,” she hissed, as she tried to push him away, clearly embarrassed as she glanced over her shoulder at me.
“Good morning, Jamie. Shouldn’t you be at a lecture or studying hard for your finals?” I asked, as Seraphina extracted herself from him, and quickly scooted off up the small second set of stairs to her room.
“I was being productive. I was catching up on some vital sleep. Anyway, what the hell are you doing here?” Jamie looked at me curiously. I couldn’t actually remember the last time I’d been in this house – dirty, messy student houses held no appeal whatsoever for me. That’s why I always had Jamie come over to my place for a decent meal in clean surroundings whenever we got together.
“I’ve come to see some designs your girlfriend has apparently drawn up, seeing as my creative team have failed miserably to come up with anything remotely suitable.”
“Really? Well she’s spent hours and hours working on the wretched things, I do know that, meaning she’s had has even less time to spend with me recently. She’s always bloody working, one way or another.”
“Maybe you should take a leaf out of her book, Jamie. Maybe you should get on with some studying rather than lounging around in bed half the day,” I pointed out to him.
“Just chill, Liam. It’s all under control. Once I've had a shower and something to eat, I’ll be studying hard all afternoon.”
“Glad to hear it.” I left him to it, and climbed the second narrow set of stairs.
“Oh, mind your head,” he called out, just as I cracked it against the low sloping ceiling at the entrance to the attic room. I cursed loudly as I rubbed my head.
As I entered, Seraphina was standing back looking at a whole series of boards, obviously trying to decide how best to display them. I glanced around the oddly shaped room. It was crammed full of art work of all sorts, everywhere I looked – on the small wonky desk, the bed, the floor, propped up against the sloping walls – everywhere.
“Christ, how the hell do you work in such a disorganised mess?” I said, appalled. I hate clutter; I have to have clear work surfaces.
“It’s not cluttered. It’s all totally organised, I know exactly where everything is. I need to have it all out on show, to visualize and compare. It’s the way I work. You can't tidy everything away out of sight all the time if you want to be creative,” she told me as she rearranged some things. “Why don’t you take a seat before you hit your head again, Mr. Starr,” she suggested helpfully, as she pointed to the chair she’d placed in the middle of the room, the only place where the ceiling was normal height.
I sat down on the rather wobbly chair, and looked around. I noticed a clothes airer in the corner that had an assortment of her washing on it, but as it already felt cold and damp in her room due to the unseasonably chilly spring weather, I couldn’t see how it was ever going to dry properly. I certainly didn't feel like taking my coat off.
“It’s bloody freezing in here. I’ll just get Jamie to put the heating on,” I said as I made to stand up.
“Oh I think you’ll find it’s already on. It usually is if Jamie’s in. It’s only the radiator in here that doesn’t work properly.” she muttered distractedly, as she sorted through some large folders to retrieve yet more sheets of art work.
Then I remembered. Months ago, Jamie had told me about the problem with the radiator in this attic room, but I’d refused to pay for any repairs, telling him it was his responsibility. Clearly my brother had not managed to get it sorted yet. I glanced at the window, and saw a piece of cardboard clumsily taped across a hole in it, but I could still feel a cold draught blowing in through it. On her desk, there was a thick woolly scarf, a body warmer, a hot water bottle and some fingerless gloves. Apparently she just wrapp
ed herself up and carried on working that way. Shit. She wasn’t even complaining either.
“Surely there must be a heater you can borrow to warm it up in here?” I suggested. “And why don't you use the tumble dryer for those wet clothes instead of making it even damper in your room?”
She looked up, giving me a puzzled look.
“What for? Heaters and dryers use a lot of electricity. It’s fine. I’m not bothered – I'm used to it. Right, I think I’m all set now. Shall I make a start?”
“Please do.”
“Do you want me to run through all the options I considered, or just the ones that I personally think work the best?”
“Seeing as I'm here, I think I might as well have the full presentation, don’t you, Miss Jones?”
Not having the least clue about what she’d come up with, I wasn’t sure that her idea of what would work best was going to come close to anything I’d be prepared to accept, so I thought I might as well see everything.
“As you wish. I just thought you might prefer the abridged version, as I appreciate that you’re a very busy man. But I’ll take you through the whole process if that’s what you want. So, initially, I came up with nine options,” she began.
“Nine! My team could only come up with three.”
“Oh, I could have come up with far more, there were so many possibilities. I had to really limit myself, actually. But of course, as I told you, in my version of the brief, I was given free reign.”
“No overbearing, controlling boss to spoil your fun, eh?” I interjected, softening my words with a slight smile.
“Exactly. And I have been having a lot of fun with it, actually,” she smiled back.
Here was someone who clearly enjoyed what they were doing – that made a change.
“Is that why you’re happy spending hours working on it rather than going off enjoying yourself with my brother?” I asked. Or, I couldn’t help wondering, was she using work as an excuse to fob him off because she was gay but didn't want to fall out with him and be thrown out of the house?
