“I hope you find this to your liking.” He felt a slight guilty pang giving her such a small office, but he had to be sure not to show any favoritism. “And I’m sure you’ll be fast-tracking it up the ladder. So, this is just a start.”
“Tom, it’s more than adequate. At Banter, I was lucky to find an empty cube to sit in when I was in the office.” She hesitated. “I, ah, was wondering what kind of support staff you would be providing.”
Tom feared she’d think his company was cheap. “The junior account executives have a secretarial pool at their disposal. There are a group of five support staffers you’ll have access to anytime you need the help.”
She didn’t appear disappointed as she ran her hand along the polished mahogany of her new desk. “That should be fine. Though I do, usually, like to work with one person. I find it builds loyalty.”
Tom loosened his tie, feeling a little hot under the collar. He wanted Carmala to be completely satisfied. “We find it’s more efficient to work with a pool. This way it makes better use of everyone’s time. Once you’re promoted to senior account manager, we’ll provide you with a corner office and a private administrative assistant.”
Carmala gave him a winning smile. “Hey, don’t get me wrong, Tom. This is more than sufficient. I just needed to know the lay of the land.”
“Good. I’ve put the case files for your first client, Jointer Staff, on your desk. They’re a temp agency looking to expand nationally.”
“I’ll get right on it, boss.”
Tom watched Carmala as she sat down at her new desk. She held the files as if they were an ice-cream cone on a hot summer’s day.
That’s a newbie for you. Gotta love it.
“Stop by my office if you have any questions.” He backed out of the office and proudly gazed at his protégé.
“No problem.” She already dug deep into the paperwork, her brow furrowed in concentration.
He hoped she’d be able to figure out the client’s needs on her own. It was a test of sorts to see how far she’d run with the ball.
****
At the end of the day, Margo checked her bank account online. Her commission check had deposited. In awe, she stared at the amount. It was a whopping seventy-five thousand. Unbelievable. October had to be a record for her biggest closing month ever.
Her boss, Dan Paxton, walked into her office with a smile that didn’t stop. “Margo, you really did it this time. You’ve made us the most profitable branch in the nation.”
“I’m elated. Yet I have concerns as to whether or not the rest of the outstanding loan applications will be processed through by the end of next month. You need to get that whip cracking on our processing center. I have twenty-four million dollars in mortgage loans in the pipeline. They all need to close in thirty days. How is this going to happen when my processor is overburdened now?”
Dan took a seat at her desk. “Relax and don’t worry. We’ll get you all the support you need. Have I ever let you down in the all the years you’ve been here?”
Margo had worked for the bank since her sophomore year in high school, now going on ten years. Manhattan hadn’t known the likes of D.C. Mutual, but with Margo’s production alone she’d put the bank on the map. And she didn’t have to be boastful. It was a well-known fact.
She clicked on her computer and pulled up her loan production pipeline, feeling doubtful that the production staff would get the loans through. “There have been issues, beyond your control, of course.”
She would have to do some major ass kissing at the processing center to get her loan applications pushed through on time. “My files are complete and should be easy for the processors to close. However, Bertha is not up to par, Dan. Face it. We can’t afford any more real estate agent complaints. We’re on a major production wave, and I need better support. I’m tired of hearing her excuses that because she’s from Germany, she has a different work ethic.”
He rubbed his whiskered chin. “It’s true. She has a slightly laid-back approach, but she’s a no-nonsense kind of person. Frankly, she’s the only one up there that can take your, er, caustic behavior. At times, you’re a bit difficult to deal with. Bertha has been working loads of unpaid overtime to get the work done. I happen to know it because the processing supervisor told me. And it’s strict company policy to report all hours worked.”
Margo hunched her shoulders. Bank politics wore on her, and she resented having to waste time on them. “Except for loan officers who can seem to work round the clock and all weekends, but no one cares.”
“I don’t think you have anything to complain about with that big commission check you cashed.” He fidgeted with his tie. “What do you plan to do with the extra money?”
She could tell he was nervous. As though he braced himself for the idle threat of retirement she’d made so many times.
“Bank it. Like I’ve been banking every extra bit. Then, one day, hopefully soon, I can retire and get out of this craziness,” Margo teased. If only she could retire. The mortgage industry wore her out. She knew talking about retiring caused Dan anxiety since she was his big kahuna, his cash cow. No one in midtown Manhattan produced as much as she did at D.C. Mutual, despite the fierce competition. He couldn’t afford to make her unhappy, especially with the competing banks and brokers constantly trying to get her to work for them.
“I’ll have a talk with Bertha, okay?” He stood and walked toward the door. “You know the processors get bonused on the closings. The center wants to close everything possible before year-end.”
“Yes, my pipeline and everyone else’s. That’s not the point. I need Bertha to cooperate and schedule the closings when I say and not when she gets around to it.” She clicked madly on her laptop working on a loan that was in process.
“Don’t you ever relax and have fun? Your husband must forget what you look like. Why don’t you guys go out and celebrate tonight?”
“We’ll celebrate. I’m going to the Jaguar dealer and getting the new XX50.”
Margo detected the flash of jealousy in his eyes. Good. At least she had some sort of satisfaction. He was such a pain in the ass sometimes.
“The convertible? Are you serious?”
“The very same.” She glanced at her eighteen-carat-gold wristwatch. It was already six. “I am going to take Timmy to dinner and then buy the Jag.”
“Good luck picking it out. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t stay too late.” He turned and left her office.
She called Timmy, but he didn’t answer his cell phone. Lately he’d been letting her calls go to voice mail, and it irritated her.
She left a message: “Timmy, I did it! I closed freakin’ forty-one loans for October. Let’s go out and celebrate. I want to get that Jag.”
A few minutes passed. Where the hell was he? It was a quarter to seven, and the dealership closed at nine. She tried his cell again with no luck.
****
Timothy Hopkins had always pictured himself in the academic world. At Drexel University, he earned a teacher’s assistant job by the end of his junior year. His driving goal had been to go to Tate University, and attend Manhattan’s world-renowned International Economics program for his graduate and postgraduate degree. After grad school, he worked his way up to associate professor and planned to achieve full professorship with eventual tenure in the next few years. Everything had worked according to his plan.
Tonight, he’d been working late with his teacher’s assistant, Lorraine Leary. Lorraine assisted him with his class load, grading, and preparing exams. Usually, he left the university after class and worked from home. But what was the sense of going home early or for dinner when he’d dine alone? Margo was never there.
It was after six. Timothy and Lorraine were working late on a curriculum proposal for the dean.
“I think we’ve arrived at our conclusion.” He tapped the summary report and looked at Lorraine. “All we have to do is pull together the presentation for the dean’s office.”
>
Lorraine turned her swivel chair from her makeshift desk at his credenza. “Gotcha. How about if I stay to finish the presentation? You go ahead home.” She rolled up her sleeves and started clicking on her laptop.
He heard his cell phone but ignored it.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” Lorraine asked.
“Nah, it’s probably a solicitor calling. I’m sure Margo’s working late at the office.” He rolled his chair next to Lorraine to peer at her computer screen. “I’d like to go over the layout with you before I sign off for the evening.”
“It’s really not due till the end of the week. We could continue tomorrow after your last class. Four o’clock, right?”
“Yup. But I don’t want the responsibility on your shoulders. We started the project together, and we’re going to finish it together.”
“It’s no problem, really.” She smiled sweetly.
His cell phone went off again, buzzing and ringing from the holder on his belt.
“Maybe that is Margo, you should get it.” Lorraine brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Yeah, right. Margo is married to her job, not me.”
“You shouldn’t be so hard on her. She’s brilliant at what she does and very dedicated.”
Lorraine was a born-again Christian and chose to see the good in everyone. She was smart, kind, and ingenious. She wasn’t bad to look at either. At thirty-two, she was still unmarried. He couldn’t figure out why. “I’m not being overly harsh, believe me. She’s at the office till midnight every night.”
“It can’t be that bad.” Lorraine eyed him quickly but redirected her gaze to the computer screen.
“It’s so bad we have to make a date night to have dinner together.”
She glanced at him. “She’s made sacrifices in order for you to get your job here, didn’t she?”
“That was years ago.” Timothy leaned closer, trying to get a better view of the screen, but discreetly took in her scent. Roses. Surprisingly, it aroused him.
Lorraine scooted her chair away, stood, and stretched.
Under the plain shapeless dresses, she seemed to have a good figure. And while Timothy didn’t like women overly made-up, with those big, brown doe eyes Lorraine could use a little something to show them off a bit. Maybe she was too introverted, and that’s why she wasn’t married. He’d imagined she’d make a good wife and mother.
She opened a file drawer and riffled through the contents. Her jumpiness around him struck him as cute. Could she be feeling the subtle undercurrents between them too?
“Didn’t you tell me she inherited her grandmother’s house in Philadelphia and was offered work at the D.C. Mutual branch nearby after college?”
“Yes, but she knew it was my dream to work here. I scooped up the research job while still in grad school. The pay wasn’t fantastic, but there was a full benefits package. And the promise of an associate professorship after I finished my PhD.”
She selected a file and brought it to her desk. He reached over her shoulder to the keyboard and clicked on another screen. He touched her hand and let it linger. A tingly sensation ran across his groin.
What was he doing? Lorraine didn’t back off from the accidental touch. She had to feel the energy between them.
“I don’t think they offer research jobs anymore,” she said. “You were lucky.”
“The catch was that I’d work for a reduced salary, but the graduate studies were paid for.”
“Margo supported you when she followed you here. You have to remember that.” She got up to refill her glass at the water cooler. Again, she’d moved away from him.
She definitely caught the tension between them. What should he do? What did he want to do?
Tim rolled his chair back to his desk. He leaned back and put his hands behind his head, enjoying the view of Lorraine’s wavy, long blonde hair swinging behind her as she moved about. “In the beginning, she largely supported us. Starting out here wasn’t easy. My starting salary wouldn’t pay for rent in the area. Margo was just beginning her career, as well. However, her job had the potential to make a whole heck of a lot more money than mine.”
“Yes, and like you told me, she became the breadwinner. Then she bought the big house on Long Island.”
Tim undid his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. He ran his finger under the collar. God, he was tired. Tired of it all. He just wanted a partner, a companion. Margo might just not be it anymore. “I resented it. That she could buy the house and I couldn’t. And the distance. It increased my commute to the university by an hour. The swanky neighborhood isn’t me.”
“I don’t think it’s the commute that bothers you as much as it’s that she runs the show. That’s not easy for a guy to accept.”
“You know, it’s not so much that as it’s how much the success has gone to her head. She’s an egomaniac. Don’t get me wrong, she’s great at what she does. But Margo knows it and doesn’t hesitate to remind me every step of the way.”
“She’s riding high now. But it’s bound to all change with the impending downturn in the economy.” Lorraine took her water back to her desk.
“Yeah, and I dread to see how she changes when that happens. She’s already irritable and bitchy. No telling what an economic slowdown will bring out in her.”
As opposed to dealing with Margo’s indifference, how nice it would be to hold the sweet, pliable Lorraine in his arms. He had a flash cross his mind, shameful as it was, to clear his desk and take her right on top of it. How exquisite it would be to have her legs around him while he…
His cell phone buzzed again, and this time he took the call. It was Margo.
“Timmy, where the hell have you been?”
“Margo, speak of the devil. I’m finishing up for the day on the project with Lorraine.” He closed the open websites on his laptop and shut the computer down.
“I’ve been trying to call you. Did you get my message?”
“No, I’m sorry, I was busy. When did you call?”
“It doesn’t matter. Listen, let’s meet for dinner. There’s cause for celebrating.”
“What are we celebrating?”
“I closed forty-one loans this month, the highest volume in the area. And a whopping pay check of seventy-five big ones!”
“That’s great, Margo. Really, great.” He should be pleased for her, but instead the news deflated him. She’d no doubt brag about it throughout dinner. It would be all about her, again.
“Let’s meet at Sardi’s. We’ll make it special.”
“Sounds good. We’re about done now. I’ll be there within twenty minutes.” He shut down his computer.
Tim grabbed his tweed jacket from the coat hanger behind his office door, shrugged into it, and put on his overcoat. “Really, Lorraine, you should call it a night.”
“You go on. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
****
Although at times Timmy could be a little too needy, Margo felt totally comfortable with their relationship. He thought she worked too hard, but her job yielded them vacations to Hawaii, cruises and other five-star vacations every year, new cars, and a gorgeous house on Long Island. They had it all.
At Sardi’s they ordered the night’s special of venison, mushrooms, and broccoli on the side, with a good bottle of red wine.
Margo clinked her glass against Timothy’s. “So, aren’t you excited? We can pay cash for the car now and pay down the mortgage on the house as well.”
“I thought you were going to put the money away so you could get out of this job?” Timothy took a long gulp of his wine.
“Eventually, I will be out. The volume can’t possibly go on at this pace forever. And frankly, neither can I.” She sighed with satisfaction, still gleeful about her big month.
“You wanted that beautiful house on Long Island, and you’re never home. Frankly I don’t know why you bought it.”
Timothy played with his mustache. He only did that when he was irrit
ated. What did she do wrong?
“I know you didn’t want the house initially. The move increased our commutes a little bit. But the benefits by far exceed the pitfalls. And you have your pool room.”
“I didn’t expect to have over an hour to commute to work, Margo. And what’s the use of having a sprawling mansion with a swimming pool when I’m alone in it every night?”
“Oh come on, Timmy. I’m with you every night. Where do I go?” She leaned forward and squeezed his hand. “The commute isn’t that bad. It’s the price you pay for living the high life.” She sipped her wine and put on a wide smile, ignoring Tim’s lack of enthusiasm.
“I never asked for the high life.”
“Maybe not. But you wanted to move to New York City, so you got it. Cheer up, will ya? We have so much to be grateful for.” Timmy needed to ease up and live a little. They’d both made their sacrifices for the sake of a common goal.
****
Later in bed, Timothy reached for Margo. It’d been so long since he made love to her. They barely saw each other, let alone found a moment for passion. Maybe a little sex would fix things. He was rock hard with need and began kissing her neck and rubbing himself against her.
She pulled away and wrapped the blanket tightly around her. “Stop, Timmy. I’m tired. I have to work early in the morning. There’s an important meeting I have to be sharp for.”
He was horny. Really horny. Maybe it was from the wine. It made him amorous. But not her. She usually got tired after consuming the red. He pushed his erection against her backside while kissing the back of her neck. “Come on, Margo. It’s been over a month since we—”
She pulled away again. “Timmy, stop. I’m tired. Wait until Saturday.”
She’d been promising Saturday now for more Saturdays than he cared to remember.
To hell with it. He hopped out of bed and jumped in the shower. He needed to shake off his desire. God, he missed the passion he used to have with his wife. Yet his thoughts drifted off to the curvy, doe-eyed, gentle blonde at work. He imagined her lips around his cock.
Having Fun with Mr. Wrong Page 6
