Breeding My Boss's Wife (2 page)

After the presentation, my dad
introduced himself and made small talk with Jake for a while. He
finally ended up mentioning that I was about to graduate with
honors with an MBA from Wharton School of Business in
Pennsylvania.

“
Oh, a Wharton man?” Jake
had asked.

“
Yeah, his mom and I are
pretty proud of him,” my dad answered.

Jake fished a card out of his pocket
and handed it to my dad.

“
Tell your son to send me
a resume. I have some openings I’m looking to fill, and having
another Wharton man would be nice.”

“
Oh, you have another
Wharton grad with your company?” my dad asked.

“
Yeah, I do.” Jake held up
his class ring from the University of Pennsylvania.
“Me!”

So just a couple of days later, I
emailed Jake a resume and almost immediately got a call from an
assistant in his company scheduling me for an interview just days
after I was supposed to arrive back home after
graduation.

I arrived at the interview and was
ushered in to meet Jake.

“
Chris Jenkins, Sir.” I
held out my hand in introduction. He took it and shook it
firmly.

“
Just call me Jake.” His
face sported a pleasant smile. “Nobody around here ever calls me
sir.”

My dad told me that Jake was an
aggressive businessman. Although he allowed himself some
extravagances every now and then, he didn’t flash much of his
considerable wealth, living in a nice, but not ostentatious
neighborhood in Dallas. My dad quipped that since Jake was Jewish,
he probably still had 95 cents out of every dollar he had ever
made.

His office was Spartan. An elegant,
but understated wooden desk was nearly bare, capped only by a desk
calendar, a phone, a computer and two pictures. The biggest photo
was of a gorgeous, young blonde woman. I could scarcely keep my
eyes off of the picture as we talked. I guessed it was his
daughter, as she appeared to be just a little older than I was at
23 years of age.

Jake noticed me continually sneaking
glances at the picture. He turned it to where I could see
it.

“
That’s Gabriella,” he
said proudly. “My wife.”

I gulped nervously, hoping I hadn’t
been too obvious staring at the picture. She was gorgeous. Blonde
and with model good looks, she smiled at the camera showing a
dazzling white set of perfect teeth. Her body was, simply put,
stunning.

I looked back at Jake. He was well
into his fifties. She was pretty clearly not out of her
twenties.

“
My friends at the Safari
Club call her my trophy wife,” he said with a grin. I could see
why.

He put the picture back on his desk
and picked up the other photo. He turned it toward me. It was a
picture of a man’s forearm. The arm was tattoed with a number that
looked like it contained seven or eight digits.

I looked back at Jake quizzically. I
had no idea what I was looking at.

“
You don’t know what that
is, do you?” he asked.

“
No sir… I mean…Jake. I
have no idea.”

“
That’s a picture of my
father’s arm,” he explained. “That number was tattooed on him when
the Germans put him in Auschwitz when he was fifteen. He was nearly
dead a year later when the Russians liberated the camp. He was part
of the crew that removed the bodies from the showers, pulled out
the gold teeth, cut off the hair and anything else useful, and
cremated the bodies.”

I could only look at Jake in
dumbfounded silence.

“
I keep that on my desk so
that, as a Jew, I’ll never forget,” Jake said, a chill in his
voice.

I continued to stare back
mutely.

“
It also reminds me that I
don’t like to take shit,” he continued. His voice carried a slight
menacing tone.

“
Yes, sir,” I barely
managed to stammer out. I decided that this wasn’t the time to call
him “Jake.”

Jake continued the rest of what was
pretty much a slam-dunk interview, and then stood, shook my hand,
and told me he would let me know something soon. “Soon” turned out
to be an understatement. The next morning, a Fedex arrived at my
dad’s house with a job offer. I excitedly opened the envelope and
saw that I was being offered a job with his company as a marketing
representative.

My eyes bugged out when I saw the
salary he was offering me. I mutely handed it to my dad.

“
Jesus!” he exclaimed as
he saw the six-figure number.

“
Is that in pesos?” my dad
quipped. “Congratulations, son!”

That’s how I ended up working for
Jake, making a ton of money from the very beginning. But it was
only the beginning of my whole story.

Chapter Three

I settled into my new job quickly. I
easily got licensed to sell insurance in Texas, and took to the job
like a duck to water. Using leads from Jake’s Safari Club contacts,
I closed a number of big deals quickly, and made a good reputation
for myself very fast.

Just days after starting, I saw Gabi
for the first time. She would sashay into the office at times,
ostentatiously walking to Jake’s office and make a big production
out of kissing him in front of the entire staff. It turned out she
wasn’t especially well-liked, especially by the women in the
company, who all had her pegged for a gold-digger. If she was, Jake
didn’t give a damn. He clearly reveled in having a gorgeous young
wife.

After my first few years at the
company, I was flying high. Doing extremely well, I settled in with
the usual trappings of a successful young businessman. I drove a
sleek BMW convertible, and had bought a luxury condo in affluent
Addison, Texas, a north Dallas suburb. I did my share of
skirt-chasing, and spread lots of pollen around the North Texas
area and thoroughly enjoyed the night life.

Jake and I built a really close
working relationship. While he was known in the office as a real
hardass, I never recall him saying an unkind word to me. I wasn’t
sure if this was because he liked me, or if it was just because I
was kicking ass. I really didn’t care, although a lot of the other
producers in the company were clearly jealous of my
success.

Life was going great. I couldn’t have
asked for anything else.

Then disaster struck.

Jake called me into the office one
day. His face was grim.

“
Close the door,” he
brusquely ordered. I closed the door behind me and took a seat in
one of the chairs in front of his desk, not waiting to be asked to
sit down.

“
Chris, I’ve got a problem
that I need your help with,” he said bluntly.

“
Sure thing, Jake.
Anything.”

“
I have cancer,
Chris.”

I could only stare at him in
dumbfounded amazement. I had always just viewed him naively as
being indestructible.

“
Shit!” I muttered the
only word that came to my mind at the surprise of his
announcement.

“
Yeah,” Jake went on.
“Goddamned prostate.”

“
Anyway,” he continued.
“I’m going to be out of action for a while. Several months, it
looks like. I have to have surgery, radiation and
chemo.”

“
OK,” I said as the
magnitude of the situation sunk in. “What can I do to help,
Jake?”

“
I need you to take over
for me while I’m out.”

“
But Jake, I’m one of the
newest producers here!” I started to protest. “You’ve lots of guys
with more years…”

Jake held up his hand, indicating that
I should shutup and listen.

“
You’re the one I trust,”
he said simply.

I could only look at Jake, stunned at
the turn of events. I thought of the magnitude of what he was
asking. Then I knew there was only one answer I could give to his
request.

“
Yes, sir.”

“
Good. That’s settled,”
Jake sounded relieved.

“
Now legally, but just
technically, Gabi’s going to take over for me,” Jake continued. “We
have to do it that way for legal reasons. However, for the actual
day to day running of the company, I expect you to be in charge.
I’ll make sure everyone knows that you speak for me.”

Then Jake did something I’ll never
forget. He turned the picture of his father’s tattooed arm around
facing me. He pointed to it.

“
Remember what I told
you,” he voice took on a menacing growl. “I don’t like to take
shit. And I don’t want you to take any for me.”

I started to speak but hesitated,
knowing that he had more to say, and I didn’t want to interrupt
him.

“
You speak for me,” he
went on. “If anyone here fucks with you, fire ’em. You have my
blessing and permission.”

“
Yes, sir.” Again, I felt
this wasn’t a time to be calling him Jake, especially since the
topic of conversation was firing people.

“
OK, get a staff meeting
called for this afternoon. I’ll tell everyone of the changes. I’m
having surgery first thing in the morning, so as of tomorrow,
you’re the man.”

“
All right, Jake.” He
stood, I did likewise and shook his hand. “Thanks for your
confidence in me.”

“
You deserve it,
Chris.”

“
And Jake?”

“
Yeah?”

“
Good luck tomorrow.” My
voice nearly broke with emotion as I knew my mentor faced a
challenge from which he might not survive.

“
Thanks.” Jake’s voice
also betrayed the emotion and fear that we both felt.

After several seconds, I finally let
go of his hand after I felt him release mine from his hard grip.
Looking at him, I could see tears welling up in his
eyes.

Chapter Four

The next several months went smoothly.
I ran the company easily in Jake’s absence, even managing to meet
the production goals and achieving the company growth that we had
set as a challenge the month prior to his departure. Our production
goal was helped by me personally landing a huge medical malpractice
contract for a large hospital chain. Ironically, it was the
hospital that was treating Jake. I didn’t have too much trouble
with the staff. I had one old-time producer give me some guff, but
after I offered sell his book to the company of his choice, he
backed down really quick. He never said a hostile word after
that.

Gabi came in every now and then, and I
briefed her on what was going on with the company. She would carry
the information to Jake, normally accompanied by a brief, but
succinct written report on our progress. She never came back with a
question, which led me to believe that Jake was satisfied with my
stewardship of the company.

But Gabi’s focus was on Jake. For a
trophy wife, she was a surprisingly good one, and I found her at
his side every time I visited him, either at home or at the
hospital. She proved to be loyal, doting, and most especially,
beautiful.

Then came the day that Jake returned.
Gaunt, his body ravaged by his treatments, and bald as a cue ball
from the chemo, he announced his return. At first, he only worked a
couple of hours a day, but as his energy returned, his days became
longer. He was soon working half days, which soon slipped into full
days. Within a couple of months, he was back to his workaholic
habits, and seemed to be his usual vigorous self. Even his hair
grew back in, and his appearance looked better as he put weight
back on.

Soon, it was time for the annual
Christmas party. It was held at Jake and Gabi’s house, as usual, as
Jake eschewed the expensive rented locations and concentrated on
paying for good food, and especially, lots of free booze for the
employees. It was his way of throwing a good bash, without costing
the company an arm and a leg.

Jake asked me to stay over with him
and Gabi, rather than drive home the night of the party. I expected
a pretty wild time, as Jake’s Christmas parties were the stuff of
legend. I expected this one to be unsurpassed for its debauchery,
as Jake celebrated not only a wildly successful year, but his own
survival from the cancer ordeal.

“
Chris, I’d also like for
you to come by a little early. Say 5 o’clock?” he told me the day
before the party. “There’s something Gabi and I want to talk to you
about.”

“
Sure. Not a
problem.”

I had no idea what they wanted to talk
to me about. But when I found out later, there’s simply no way that
I could have been more surprised.

When I arrived at their house at the
appointed hour, Gabi met me at the door. She brightened the room
with a huge smile, and then leaned forward to plant a kiss on one
cheek and then the other. She was unusually animated and
chipper.

“
Chris, it’s so good to
see you!” Her voice was bright and pleasant. And sexy, come to
think of it. “Merry Christmas!”

“
Merry Christmas to you
too, Gabi.”

She led me into a sitting room. Jake
was obviously waiting for us. He stood to greet me.