Caught Inside (2 page)

I crumpled the note and tossed it in
my trash can next to my nightstand, right next to the three old
condoms. Well at least I got my fill last night. I did not see me
requesting him again after that note. I would go back to my
strictly business rules and only call the men I knew I could have
sex with for free, but didn't want attached to my arm during
business events. I often found a way to want the men who were not
well off in upper class social events that required conversations
about foreign topics, politics or even classical music or art. The
men I had ready at the touch of digits on my phone were definitely
not the type I would want with me while wooing a client. That is
why I always used the escort service.

Come Monday at work, the whispers and
sneaky looks that came my way as I walked in with my polished navy
blue classic business attire had me a bit tense. Then Cynthia
walked up to me in her recent fake boob purchase, blonde hair with
extensions and a diamond engagement ring that could blind you. Her
red sultry business suit was a bit too sexy for the office, perhaps
ok with the clients, but then I guess we had been competing for the
same promotion to Director of International Marketing for three
months now. I thought I had it in the bag, but by the body language
on Cynthia, I was beginning to doubt myself.

She started the tete-a-tete
conversation. "I just love those new highlights in your hair. You
should think about extensions. That short haircut of yours is never
passed your shoulders. Don't get me wrong, it's sexy, but I just
think you might look better with extensions. By the way, I grabbed
you a card to my plastic surgeon's office. I get a referral credit
if you decide; you know to let the girls grow a bit. I hope you
don't mind I canceled your nine a.m. appointment. I need you to
talk with Prez, and then we will be discussing your next assignment
UNDER me in Japan."

I looked at her sideways with a stern
glance as I began the walk down the hall to Prez's office. I didn't
react. I guess it was her way of telling me that she got the
promotion. As far as who Prez is, it is short for the female
president of the company, although her real name is Gail; we had to
call her Prez. She must have just given her the news and wanted to
see me next. I knew what was coming next; it was the worst-case
scenario that I had mentally figured out in my head. I would be
working under Cynthia, and my life was about to become wedding
gossip, beauty tip hell. I did not want to be in a room full of
clients with her as my boss let alone on long plane rides listening
to her gibberish. Yet, here I was. In the very position, I did not
want to find myself. However, I knew the deal breaker was her
engagement. I had been told to find a steady boyfriend to present
to my clients that I was a stable female with a strong male backer.
Quite the opposite opinion of yesteryears, but today's corporate
female had to have a strong support backer, male - or female if
your choice laid to the same sex. Even so, it was important to
client presentation. I feared they would be asking for me to have
kids next. However, Christian had been my plan. That was, until I
hurt his feelings and found out he was not available for my
services any longer just this morning.

I congratulated Cynthia and then
practically marched to Prez's office, trying to tamper down the
anger I was feeling along with betrayal as I felt I was much more
qualified for the position. This was not going to be fun, and I was
getting the distinct feeling that there were other reasons the
office staff was whispering and looking my way.

I knocked on Prez's hard wood double
office door. A loud resounding 'come in' echoed out. It sounded as
if she was a bit perturbed. I would be if I had just given Cynthia
a promotion. However, I had a feeling something was brewing, and it
wasn't my morning coffee.

"Sit down." Prez demanded but did not
look up from her laptop, as her long brown hair practically covered
her face as she leaned in too close to her computer. Her brown eyes
were squinting as I noticed her reading glasses set off to the
side. I laughed internally, knowing that she thought they made her
look older and refused to wear them, but right now she would be
saving herself some trouble. I looked passed her behind her
enormous mahogany desk, and I watched the city skyline behind her
build with dark grey ominous clouds. A storm was brewing outside,
and things were about to thunder inside. I just felt it, deep
within my bones.

I sat in a dark-brown leather chair
with copper nail heads adorning the trim. I set my briefcase and
laptop case in the matching opposite chair next to me. I had not a
moment to breathe since I stepped foot in the office, let alone get
settled into my desk since I walked in this morning. I watched her
click away with keystrokes on her laptop as her eyes held a steely
stance to them with seriousness. My palms began to sweat a bit.
Something was up. I took a deep soft breath in and held it for a
few seconds. As I let it out, I let the tip of my black heel shake
a bit as if I was letting the anxiety I was feeling out through my
toes. I forced myself to find an inner calm and prepare for
anything that Prez was about to send my way.

She finally looked up to me while
closing the lid to her laptop. "I'll start with the good news. LA
sales are up. This client dinner went extremely well, although
cutting out early is not your style. Obviously, you must know by
now that Cynthia got the promotion. It was a tough call, but your
next bonus check will make up for it."

I raised my eyebrows and mentally
screamed. 'I doubt it.'

She started up again. I found myself
staring at her piercing brown eyes and wondered how she got to be
the president of this company. She was never one for tactfulness.
"Listen. It was really in your ballpark until that article broke
and went viral this weekend. That escort service you used, that
client Christian Conner, he really exposed you as a creep and a
tyrant among the executive women, a user of men and telling
everyone how much you liked to be spanked, well kinky fun aside, he
blew it for you."

"What?" I practically
screamed.

"You didn't know?" She
questioned.

"Obviously not. The last time I saw
Christian was Saturday morning and quite frankly; he was
happy."

"I suppose. According to his article
that hit the Internet on Saturday morning, he had a bone to pick
with you." She opened her laptop, hit a few buttons and then closed
it. "I sent you the link. I guess he sent the article to several of
your clients. I don't know how he got access to your client list,
but that was a big mistake."

I did. I had drifted off to sleep
after round two and when I came to, he was at my computer surfing
and had offered to make me a late-night snack. I was distracted by
his sexy body cooking naked in my kitchen. Then when he ate me,
sexually, on the kitchen countertop, I was too sated between that
and the food to think he was hoodwinking me.

I was lost in Prez's voice then I
blinked fast. I was not going to let any raw emotions near the
surface. I heard her tell me to get my damage control in motion and
fast. To replace Christian with someone much more reliable, no
escorts, no sex. She told me to prepare to fly out to Japan with
Cynthia and if my next sales report exceeded the previous, then she
will let all this go. Then her last few words made me want to bite
my tongue.

"For God sake, Jennifer Everest, get a
great man to back you, and I'm not talking to handle your spanking
fantasy, and show the I.N.Zime clients your next level of
commitment and maturity. Get married, have a kid or adopt one, hire
a nanny, donate blood, just start coming across a bit more
mature."

My copper brown eyes blinked away the
tears as I watched my thick dark-brown lashes blinking in front of
me feverishly. I didn't need a man, an engagement ring or sexless
nights to prove maturity. I was going full gangbusters career, and
sex with the men I pay to escort me - was a thing of the past.
Escort services in general were out of my repertoire. I was going
to prove that I was a strong independent woman who was incredible
in marketing and international sales, and I was not going to be
doing it 'under' Cynthia for very long.

I walked out of Prez's office with a
new sense of intention. Nobody was going to mess with me now. And,
as far as Christian and his little journalistic black mailing
career, he wasn't going to know what hit him once I slammed the
media with everything I've got on him. No amount of water was going
to douse this firestorm.

Chapter Two

Two years later, I was thinking about
Cynthia and her twins that kept her at home. Her soon to be ex, and
her begging me to have her job back, underneath me. I would give
her a day or two to squirm, and then I would hire her, as an office
staff until she could prove herself with a bit more decorum. She
was great at sales, just awful as a boss; however, I think she had
enough bad experiences in the last year to realize we made better
team partners then backstabbing employees.

For now, I was on a stage talking to a
room full of thriving business women, and they were hanging on my
every word. I took pride in forging women ahead of the game, and
now it was my turn to give back to them.

I took an inhalation as I looked out
to the room full of women there to hear me speak. I let a sensual
smile creep across my face, and then I exhaled before concluding my
speech. "...sexual satisfaction is one thing; dependence is
another. All I am saying is... you can have one without having the
other, and it makes building a corporate career a hell of a lot
easier. It takes moxy and patience to build a successful high-end
career as a woman. A man can only complicate things. I'm not old
school. I'm new school, and I know exactly what it takes to make it
up the corporate ladder. Having a man at home depending on you,
expecting you to do the old school cleaning and cooking is not the
first steps in getting to the top. No ladies, if you want a career
like mine, you better climb on top and grab the bull by the horns.
Hold on tight because it can be one hell of a ride." I listened to
the room full of women clap and cheer as I walked off the podium
with a huge grin on my face and clutched in the grips of my right
hand was my third sales award this year.

Speaking to a group of all women
entrepreneurs with my 'from the hip' style I was known for was a
bit scary. I was not sure how I was going to be perceived this
time. However, these women seemed to have it in them to win it, but
could they go without it for too long?

I knew my desire was slowly building
within me. The old cravings I had to have a man to come home to, a
man to wake up next to. It went against everything I had been
preaching to these women, yet it was the yearning I felt building
inside of me. Instead, I tampered it down each time I felt it and
decided to live the lifestyle I was choosing to live. However, it
came with its pitfalls. Being successful in a career, with good
looks and available, only brought out the rodents from between the
cracks. Men who were looking for a sugar momma and sometimes the
women only found out too late. I was not going to be one of them. I
did not work this hard to get ahead by going without a significant
other. It was not as if I was going without sex, I was just
choosing to go without a man who depended on me - emotionally. The
physical parts of men I had readily available in my little pink
book ap on my phone. Men, ready at the touch of a text that knew
what I was requesting and that my strings were not attached nor
were they available. Keeping this charade up for how long, was only
a matter of time.

This was not my first time around the
block. I had used escort services before. However, this one... this
particular one, came at a high price and for a reason. They were
top notch, classy and thoroughly discreet, which I needed. Nobody
at my office needed to know that I was using a pretend boyfriend.
Covering for the fact that I had no time to have a dating
lifestyle, let alone the energy and concentration a relationship
takes. I had been down that path, and it got me nowhere but
frustrated. My career was first now, and that was how I made it to
Director of International Sales at I.N.Zime International Marketing
as a female at the age of thirty-three.

A week later, I found myself sitting
in a comfortable brown leather chair, across from an attractive
intelligent man asking me personal questions about my likes and
dislikes. I noticed two cameras on me that I could see, but I
sensed someone was watching me from behind a mirrored glass window
straight ahead of me. I found myself glancing that way and smiling
flirtatiously. If I could not see my watcher, then I shall let him
see me, my seductive side. I felt like I was putting on a show for
someone with the way I flirtatiously answered questions and poised
myself. The camera lighting felt a bit blinding from time to time
when I tried glancing towards the mirrored glass, so I would glance
away and look down with a smile and light laughter before I would
look up and answer the gentleman's questions.

Zachery was his name, the gentleman
asking me personal preference questions as to what I liked in a
man, what I preferred his background to be, and how he should dress
for my arrangements. Those arrangements would be, a man on call for
social engagements so it looked as if I had a boyfriend, without
all the hassle. This would be my solution to my pending problem in
work social situations. I know; I had sworn I would never use an
escort service again, yet this service guaranteed incognito and
professional. With what they charged, I doubt they wanted to
mislead their potential clients with another Christian. I had no
time to find a date and let I remind you the type of men I had on
call for sex, were definitely not the type of men who should be
integrating into my social work life.