by Lola StVil
When the twins called us, they must have thought we both lost our minds. They must have heard the excitement in our voices that we were able to have a healthy, unstrained conversation. I hope they didn’t pick up on too much of it, that they just thought it was their uncool parents being overly attached to them.
I don’t know what to do to reach Falcon anymore. There was a time I would have known exactly what to do. I would have taken him by the hand and led him to the bedroom. We would have gotten all of the frustration out by making each other come. And then we would have talked. Now though, we don’t do anything except drift further away from each other, and I’m scared that we won’t find our way back.
On Friday night, once Falcon thought I was asleep, he whispered to me that he’d do better and begged me not to leave him. I wanted so badly to turn to him, to tell him I’d never leave him and kiss away his pain. But I didn’t. I was angry, and I was stubborn, and I didn’t do it. It was too late the next morning. I couldn’t admit I’d heard him, because then I would have also been acknowledging that I’d just ignored him.
“Elle? Are you alright?”
I pull myself out of my head. It’s my first day on this job, and already I’m too distracted to pay attention to Franklin’s training. Was Falcon right all along? It sure feels like I’m not cut out for this shit. But it would be different if Falcon had supported me. Then my mind could focus on the job in front of me.
I nod and force myself to smile at Franklin.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I say. “Just trying to take it all in.”
He puts his hand on my bare knee and gives it a squeeze. I cringe inside, and I’m sure he feels me stiffen up because he frowns and pulls his hand away.
“You’ll get it soon enough,” he says.
Maybe I’m being paranoid. I mean, he shouldn’t be touching me, but he’s old school, and he probably thinks he’s being comforting rather than inappropriate. None of the other women working here seem to be uncomfortable around him, and it’s not like there’s a shortage of male employees, either of which would be a red flag to me.
I think I’m just being overly sensitive. I’m letting Falcon’s issues become my issues. Franklin smiles at me.
“Let’s take a break and go grab a coffee. I know it’s a lot to take in at once,” he says.
Is he asking me on some sort of date? If I agree to coffee, am I agreeing to more? For fuck’s sake, Elle, stop it right now. It’s perfectly reasonable to suggest coffee on an actual coffee break. It’s what ordinary people do on their work breaks, and it’s perfectly acceptable for a man and a woman to have a coffee together in a break room without reading anything into it.
He stands up, and I do too. I follow him out of his office and down the hallway to the break room. For all I keep telling myself I’m paranoid, I’m happy to see we’re not alone in the break room. We sit at a large table with several other employees, and Franklin introduces me.
We spend a good twenty minutes laughing, mostly at me, but in good fun. They tease me because I’ve never done sales before, and they encourage me too, giving me tips and sharing funny stories. Franklin has a comfortable relationship with all of them, including the two women who are there, and it’s easy to see the staff like him. It confirms my theory that I’m just being paranoid.
Or maybe he just doesn’t want them that way. Jesus Christ, when did I get so bigheaded that I assume he wants me?
***
I leave the office, saying goodbye to Sandra on my way out. I head home, thinking back over my day. The stuff Franklin has been teaching me is starting to sink in, and I don’t think it’ll be long before I memorize the scripts and can answer clients’ questions. It seems multimedia is just jargon as Franklin said. Magnet is basically an ad firm, dressed up in tech jargon to appeal to millennials.
The job seems like something I’ll be able to do, and the team members I’ve met so far all seem nice enough. I haven’t met the sales team, but Franklin explained I won’t be working particularly closely with them; it’s the guys in the office who will implement the solutions I sell, and those are the ones I need to build relationships with.
The only problem with the whole thing is Franklin himself. He has a nasty habit of touching my knee or my arm and leaving his hand there too long. He even put his hand on my ass as he saw me through a door earlier. It makes me uncomfortable, to say the least, and every instinct in me tells me to walk away.
But I can’t. I can’t just walk away now. If I do, it’s telling not just Falcon, but myself as well that he was right and I’m not at Magnet for any reason other than looking good in a skirt. So I’ll stay, and I’ll put up with Franklin. It won’t be long until I’m out from underneath his wing and hopefully then I won’t have to have too much contact with him. And if things don’t get better, I can stay long enough to prove myself and then maybe find a different job.
I reach home, surprised to find the door unlocked. I check my watch. It’s only five thirty and Falcon is home already? My heart pounds as I open the door and step inside. Something must be wrong.
“Falcon?” I shout.
He emerges from the kitchen and smiles at me. I frown, and his smile slips away.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” I demand.
“What do you mean?” he says.
I open my mouth to demand he tells me what’s going on, and he smiles again.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Elle. I should have warned you I’d be here, but I didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Nothing is wrong. I snuck out for a couple hours to make you something to eat to come home to and hear all about your first day at work,” he says.
I relax, and I feel myself breaking into a wide smile.
“Thank you,” I say.
I go to him, and he comes to meet me halfway. He pulls me into his arms and kisses me. Hard. His tongue pushes into my mouth, catching me by surprise, but in the best possible way. I melt into him, pressing my body against his. I can feel his hard cock against my stomach, and it sends a rush of wetness out of my pussy.
The timer goes off in the kitchen, and he pulls back. I hold him a second longer and grin.
“Maybe we should forget the food,” I say.
He shakes his head, laughing.
“No way,” he says. “I haven’t cooked for you in forever, and you’re not going to be served a burned meal. Besides, I have to get back to the office in an hour, and let’s face it, if we do this, that won’t be happening.”
“True,” I agree.
I go and sit down and wait as Falcon disappears back into the kitchen. I suddenly feel like maybe everything will be alright between us. The kiss, the fact he’s here now—it feels more like us. The old us.
It makes me sure of one thing. I can’t leave Magnet now. I can’t admit that I caused such a massive problem for us for nothing.
Falcon comes back in with two plates. He sets one down in front of me, and I moan in anticipation when I see the juicy steak and the jacket potato.
“It looks delicious.” I smile.
“You know it’s my specialty.” He grins.
I cut into the steak. It’s the perfect medium rare. I put a piece into my mouth, and it just melts, and I moan again.
“Look, you have to stop moaning like that or dinner is off.” Falcon grins.
I jokingly grab hold of my plate.
“No chance of that,” I say.
“Elle, I’ve been a dick. A complete, massive dick. And I’m sorry,” he says.
“Let’s just forget about it and move on,” I say. “I didn’t exactly handle the situation as well as I could have either.”
He nods, and we eat in silence for a moment. It’s not awkward like it has been, but I still don’t like it. It’s still not how we used to be. I still love Falcon now as much as ever, and I think he still feels the same way about me, but the old us wouldn’t be eating this now. We’d have gone upstairs, and he would have eaten me instead.
“How was it?” Falcon as
ks, pulling me out of my thoughts of him ravishing me. “Your first day.”
I shuffle in my seat trying to forget about where my mind was going and how wet it was making me.
“It was good. I like the guys who work there, and I think I’m getting to grips with my training.”
“Good. I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he says.
He doesn’t sound overly enthusiastic about it, but he’s making an effort, and so I let it go.
“There’s just one thing, Elle. I know I just apologized for being a dick about this whole thing, and I meant it, but this is important to me, and I’d appreciate it if you’d meet me halfway on this one.”
My heart sinks. Has it all been an act? Has he been acting reasonably about this so now he can lay down a condition that I’ll feel obliged to agree to, something that will hinder me at work?
I nod at him to go on. I struggle to swallow the meat in my mouth.
“I know you say I’m paranoid, and maybe I am, but the worry about you eats at me, Elle. I know the office is only up the road, but will you please drive there and back? I hate the thought of you wandering the streets alone and—”
“Yes,” I interrupted, smiling. “I will.”
The meat has become easy to swallow again. Falcon’s request was a reasonable one, and truthfully, it’s something I should have thought of myself knowing he has these issues.
“Thank you.” He smiles.
“I have a condition too,” I say.
He raises an eyebrow, but he nods at me to go on.
“You have to teach me how to get steaks this perfect.” I grin.
He laughs and shakes his head.
“No way. If I teach you that, you’ll have no reason to keep me around.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I could think of the odd one or two.” I laugh.
He laughs and throws his balled-up napkin at me, and just like that, the tension between us starts to fade, and I feel a deep surge of hope flood me. We’re going to be okay.
CHAPTER EIGHT
FALCON
Today is the fourth day Elle has been to work. I’m making an effort to be happy for her, to show an interest in what she’s doing without interrogating her about Franklin fucking Ludlow, but it’s hard.
I have complete faith in Elle. I know she could do this job with her eyes closed, but I also know a complete stranger wouldn’t take a chance on her that way. Franklin is up to something. He’s going to make a move on her if he hasn’t already. And because I acted like such a dick about it all in the beginning, I don’t think Elle would tell me if he had.
I think I’d know though. I think I’d see the pain in her eyes as she realized I was right all along. I don’t want to be right about this one. One thing I’ve learned over the last three days is that actually, Elle going out to work isn’t the big deal I made it become in my head. It’s good that she has something that’s just hers. She’s come to life over these last few days. Her skin is glowing, her hair is shining, and that sparkle is back in her eyes. It hurts me to know I didn’t put it there, but I’m still glad she’s happy. I just wish she could be satisfied working at a different firm. One without the biggest slimeball in the city working there.
Unbeknownst to Elle, I’ve done a bit of digging into Franklin’s background, and I’ve managed to track down and talk to a few of the women who were paid to keep quiet, and a few who just left without trying to rock the boat.
It seems Franklin has a pattern. He usually sends new recruits out with one of his best salespeople to train. If he takes a liking to them, he trains them himself. That’s a red flag. Then he takes them on their first sales call when he deems they’re ready, and he makes his move in the car, on the way back to the office. Those who turn him down find themselves failing their probationary period. If they go along with his advances, they get a chance to prove they are actually useful to the company and they may or may not get to stick around.
Guys like that make me fucking sick. I mean, if you like a woman, you should ask her on a fucking date, not put her in a position where she has to choose between grinning and bearing it and keeping her job, or walking away from your advances and losing her job.
Elle told me last night she thinks she might be ready for her first sales call today. I told her to text me where she was going, and I would feed her some useful information about the company. I will do that, but that’s not the point of the text really. The point is, I’m going to follow them, and if that fucking pervert puts so much as a finger on my wife, I’m going to kill him. Literally, kill him.
I’ll have to be subtle though because if I’m wrong about this and Elle catches me following them, then I’m pretty sure we’ll be done.
This whole thing has given me a severe wake-up call regarding my marriage. I have neglected Elle too much. And whatever happens, I won’t be doing that again. I trust the staff to handle the day-to-day problems and issues that arise within the company. It will free up so much of my time to get the other parts of my job done, and I might find myself not working sixteen-hour days quite so much. I’ll be able to be a husband as well as a CEO this way and give Elle all of the attention she deserves.
I sit at my desk, trying to focus on my work, but it’s no good. All I can think of is Elle. And the more I think about her, the more I find myself getting turned on. I think about the extra time we’ll have together. How I will spend it showing her she’s the most gorgeous woman in the world. I think about how I’ll lick her pussy until she comes in my mouth. How I will fuck her, reclaiming her, visiting all my favorite spots over and again, leaving my mark on her. I think about how I will hold her in my arms while she tumbles through orgasm after orgasm, flooding wet, lost in her pleasure.
I feel my cock getting hard as I think about what I’ll do to her. How I’ll bend her over the kitchen counter and fuck her there. How I’ll lay her down on the stairs and eat her pussy until her waterfall cascades around us. How I’ll fuck her in every inch of the house and beyond.
My cell phone vibrates on the desk. It’s Elle, and my heart races when I read her message.
“We’re going to Obsidian Music. Heading out in ten. I’m so nervous. Help!”
Luckily, Obsidian is a company I already know pretty well. I’ve had a few meetings with their CEO, Trevor Bates, and I text Elle a couple snippets of information I know will help her cause, not least the fact that Trevor hates sleazy salespeople who kiss his ass. He likes short and to-the-point facts about what a person can offer him.
I explain to my assistant that something came up and I’m not to be disturbed within the next two hours under any circumstances. I tell her to refer any problems to the new team and to push my meetings to tomorrow.
I practically run to the elevator, and by the time I leave it, I am running. I know I won’t be in time to intercept Elle and Franklin on the way to the meeting, but that’s okay. He never tries to do anything before meetings because he wouldn’t have the time to do anything if the woman he hit on actually agreed to go along with it. I know his car, so all I have to do is drive to Obsidian and find somewhere to park where his car is in sight and I am not too noticeable.
I take a company car rather than my own. Elle may still recognize it if she gets a good look at it, but it won’t draw her attention as my car would, so I have a much better chance of her not spotting me this way.
I get to Obsidian, and I spot Franklin’s car. I’m relieved that I made it in time to not miss them. I find a spot to park, hidden behind a pillar. I will see the car when it pulls out though. I unfold a broadsheet and hold it up in front of my face, obscuring myself further from view. I peer around the edge of the pages, and I wait.
I swear the next half hour is the slowest half hour of my life. Finally, when I’m starting to wonder if I’m mistaken about Franklin’s car, even though I know I’m not, I spot them. They’re heading toward the car. I can see Elle beaming from here, and even now, I feel a rush of warmth for her. I feel a sense of pride. She obvi
ously closed the sale.
I feel a stab of jealousy go through me. It should be me she’s with when she’s smiling like that. I should be the one making her look so happy. It should be me she high-fives as she walks across the parking lot with a spring in her step.
They get into Franklin’s car, and it pulls away. I wait for a second and then I put my car into drive and pull out behind them. I fall back, letting at least two vehicles stay between us. As long as I watch for the car exiting, I know I won’t lose them.
My mouth is dry, my hands gripping the steering wheel hard enough that my knuckles are white. If he hurts her …
I am starting to think I have this all wrong, that he just saw something in Elle. Something that told him she’d be damn good at this. He’s heading back toward the office, taking the exact route I would have taken if I were driving. I am risking everything, and it looks like it’s all for nothing.
It’s not entirely for nothing though. If nothing else, this will put my mind at rest and although I’ll never completely stop worrying about Elle when she’s out of my sight, at least I’ll know she’s safe at work.
I had the thought too soon. No sooner do I start to relax a little bit, releasing my tight grip on the steering wheel, than Franklin’s blinker comes on, and he pulls off down a dirt road. My eyes widen, and my jaw clenches in anger.
All that is at the end of that road is a long-deserted farmhouse. There can be only one thing on Franklin’s mind now. I turn onto the street. I ask myself if I’m sure enough of what’s going to happen now to risk Elle seeing me. I’m not. I pull over and debate what to do next.
The thing is, some clients operate beneath the radar. Anyone in business in this city has had one of these clandestine meetings in an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere before. We’ve all been to a meeting location where you can’t help but wonder if you’re going to land the contract of your dreams or be murdered.
It’s a slim possibility that this is the case here, but it’s a possibility nonetheless. Rumor has it that Magnet isn’t above selling hacking services for the right price, and while I don’t particularly like the idea of Elle getting involved in that, it could be part of her job. From the intel I’ve got on Franklin and Magnet, the hacking services they offer are dressed up as competitor research. It means that even if Elle deals with anything like that, she won’t be dealing with hardened criminals, just corporate executives desperate to prove themselves and get ahead of the game.
