Going Down (15 page)

It made me feel a little better to know that he’s working hard, just like I was. And in a way it didn’t. Ben still had a hundred and fifty thousand-dollar lead on me. I wanted him to go home one of those nights, drop the ball, put his foot in it, crack up under pressure, do something, anything stupid, and hand me the lead. I knew in my heart that wasn’t going to happen.

If I was going to win, I would have to take it. He was the champ and he was ahead on points going into the championship rounds. I needed a knockout to beat him and
Bandexx
was my shot. “He’s going down,” I said out loud.

As I got closer to Ben’s office, I could hear him on the phone. Dealing. As I passed his office, Ben looked up and threw up his hand. By the time I got to the machines, I decided to add a pack of bacon cheddar crackers. I got my supply of junk food and made my way back to my office. Halfway up the hall, Ben came out.

“How’s it going, Ben?”

“Doing great, Zack,” Ben said, patting me on the back as we walked down the hall. Ben was a touchy, feely kinda guy. You know? Always tapping or nudging you when he talked. Like he had to make sure that he had your attention.
“How are things going with
Bandexx
?”

“I should have them on paper in the next couple of weeks,” I said confidently, as we got to the door to my office.

“Well, anything I can’t do to help you, just let me know.”

“I just might take you up on that,” I said as I went in my office.

I sat down at my desk, opened my chips, and wondered if he really meant it. He watches the board every morning just like I do. He knows I’m on him, but maybe it wasn’t as big a deal to him. It wasn’t like he needed the free trip or the money, for that matter. Ben was paid. Big house on Lake Lanier, nice size yacht. His wife was a lawyer—nah, money ain’t it for him. Competition, that’s what Ben’s about. He had won the title five of the last six years.

In spite of all my efforts, Ben was cruising along, like he always does, with a comfortable lead on me. The last three weeks, I’d been ice cold. Couldn’t get anything to go. Even my so-called ‘hot leads’: deals I knew I could put together, either hadn’t made a decision or, if they had, they’d decided to go with another suppler they were looking at. To make matters worse, one of my oldest accounts, the bread that my check is buttered with, was actually making noises about getting outside quotes. And all this because I’ve been so preoccupied with
Bandexx
.

In the case of maintaining existing customers and pursuing new ones, I’d violated my first rule of a successful salesman: Stay in their face, by any means necessary, whether it’s in person or by phone, fax, mail or e-mail, or text. And I wasn’t doing that. I had focused all my attention on
Bandexx
. It seemed like every day, Dean had some change, some annoying little thing that he always needed “like yesterday, dude.” But I knew it would all be over soon and it would all be worth it. Once
Bandexx
was a done deal, I could tighten up on my old customers and get back to aggressively pursuing new ones.

The next day, I was back at work early in the morning. By midmorning, I had had enough and was thinking about going home when the phone rang. Patty told me that Dean Cabot with
Bandexx
was holding for me. This was the call I had been waiting for. I told Patty to transfer the call to me and I promptly asked Dean to hold on. I had made a preliminary presentation to Dean via e-mail, and he seemed mildly impressed by it. Dean had said to give him some time to review it and he’d get back to me.

I looked at my watch. It was a quarter to ten. It was a quarter to seven in California. If he actually reviewed it, he must only have questions. “Let him hold.”

Two minutes later I answered, “Thanks for holding, Dean. How can I help you?” I asked, feigning real interest.

“Zack, dude, sorry it took me so long to get back to you. The weekend was wild and it took me a couple of days to recover. But I had a blast.”

“What’d you do?”

“Tijuana,” Dean answered in his best attempt at an accent.

“Had a good time, huh?”

“Awesome. Zack, I had the time of my life. The sun was hot. The drinks were cold. And the women were warm and friendly. I just got back.”

“So what, are you just calling to rub it in?”

“No, nothing like that. I called to share. So each of us can draw strength from the sharing.”

“Yeah, right. You’re just trying to make me jealous. You California guys have got it made. The ocean, the beach. While I’m stuck here, four hours from water.”

“Plan on spending the weekend when you get out here and maybe, just maybe, I’ll take you around to some of the beaches while you’re out here.”

“Oh, am I coming out there?”

“Hell, yeah, that is if you still want this account. You did say you wanted this account, didn’t you?”

“Hell yeah,” I said, trying to sound like Dean. I pictured Dean as a young blonde-haired, blue eyed, California white boy, whose major concern in life was the state of his tan and the warmth of the women.

“I read over your proposal and I was very impressed with it. Looks like something I could work with.”

“If you were having fun in the sun all weekend, working on your tan and your drunk, when did you have time to read it?”

“Friday afternoon before I left. So when can you present it to my boss?”

“Go ahead and send me a letter accepting my proposal. Give me a couple of hours to work out the details, and I’ll call you back with travel plans,” I replied excitedly. I’d never been to the West Coast and I was dying to go. I only hoped that Angelique would change her mind and go with me. I briefly considered taking Lana, but I dismissed the thought as quickly as I could.

“No can do,” Dean said. “I’m going to bed. I’m beat. I already called in. I’m gonna crash. But I just wanted to tell you that.”

“Dean, I couldn’t think of a better way to start the morning. I’m sure you’ll be impressed with the product.”

“Dude, I’m out. We’ll talk later in the week.” With that, Dean hung up the phone and I immediately began thinking about the commission I’d earn, Sales Rep of the Year, and the trip to St. Martin.

I called Angelique to share the news with her.

“This is Angelique,” she answered.

“Hi, baby. Are you having a good morning?” I asked.

“No. I don’t wanna be here. I would much rather be home in bed in your arms. How about you?”

“Well, let me think a moment.” I paused. “Hmm.”

“This should be a no-brainer. So choose your words carefully.”

“Since you put it that way, I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be, than in your arms.”

“I feel a headache coming on. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off and meet me at the house?”

“Can’t do it. How about we meet for lunch?”

“I’m going home soon,” Angelique said. “I’m serious about having a headache. I’m just not with it today.”

“Did you take something for it?”

“No, I’m just going home.”

“I hope you feel better. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Anyway, I was calling to tell you that Dean from
Bandexx
called this morning. He liked the proposal and he wants me to come to Cali to present it.”

“Baby, that’s wonderful. I’m so proud of you. St. Martin here we come. We gotta celebrate. Go out to dinner, get some champagne. My treat of course.”

“Not yet, it’s still a long way to October. But this should put me out front, with a good lead. I’m probably gonna have to go to San Diego sometime this week. I was hoping you’d change your mind about going with me.”

“I just might have to do that. But we’ll talk about it when you get home. I gotta run now, baby. I love you,” Angelique said and hung up the phone.

I hung up the phone and gathered my
Bandexx
notes and my proposal together, filled out the travel authorization form, and headed down the hall to see Al Miller. Al was a great salesman; a legend in his time. He could sell a lawnmower to a man with no grass. Now, as sales manager, he was bored, living only for his inspirational talks during the daily sales meeting.

“Morning, Amy,” I said.

Amy is Al’s secretary. The classic dumb blonde, even though her hair was brown. Very pretty but absolutely no brain at all. She had a job because she was Al’s toy and everybody knew it. “Is Al in?”

“He’s in, but he’s in one of those moods.”

“I know. This morning’s chat was less than inspiring.”

I stood and watched Amy as she checked with Al before sending me in. Me and Amy started working here about the same time. Amy came in as Al’s secretary and I was hired to fill the spot Al vacated when he became sales manager. We had our moment one night four years ago after an office party. Al would always rent a room for him and Amy at whatever hotel we had the function. He’d stay with Amy a while before going home to his wife, who never came to company functions. This particular year, Angelique wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to go with me, but insisted that I go alone. Al got a little too drunk too early in the evening and had to be driven home. Amy set her sights on me.

I’ll fuck her
, I thought.
But I’ll probably hate myself in the morning
. And I did. But it was fun while I was doing it.

We were both a little drunk when we got to the room that Al had reserved for them. I was apprehensive about going there at first. “What if Al sobered up and comes back?” I asked Amy.

Her answer was simple. She stepped to me and slid her tongue in my mouth. “The room is in my name and I have the only key.” She kissed me again. “But if he does come back, you can let him in if you want to.”

By that time I had her dress unzipped and let it fall to the floor. “That ain’t happening,” I said and unhooked her bra. Besides, I wasn’t planning on being in there that long. If there was ever a case of “slam, bam, thank you, ma’am,” this was definitely one of those cases. Amy stepped out of her throng, but left on her heels, which always turned on me. I pressed her naked body against mine and kissed her. Our tongues glided over one another’s and I felt the wetness between thighs. I ran my hand across her breasts and teased them with my tongue, sliding it slowly around her nipples. Amy wasn’t flat chested, but they weren’t what I’d consider big, either. She began to moan in response as I attacked her breasts. Amy fell on the bed and spread her legs as wide as she could. I kissed her inner thighs and then tasted her. Amy held my head in place as my tongue slithered along her lips, making circles around her clit. Then I remembered that I hadn’t planned on being there long.

I got up on my knees and watched Amy gliding her hands along throbbing erection, pulling it toward her. “Give me some of that big black dick.”

Amy spread her legs and I entered her. Her pussy was tight and very wet. I felt her body pounding against me, like she hadn’t had any dick in a long time. Before long she was screaming my name and running her fingers through her hair. I felt the pussy tighten around me and her eyes rolled back in her head. Amy pushed me off of her.

Amy rolled over and got up on her knees. I fingered her clit and played with her lips. I got up on my knees. She spread her butt cheeks with both hands. “Put it back in,” Amy pleaded and I did as she asked. I began to push my dick in her furiously. “You’re gonna make me cum again!” she yelled. “Fuck the shit outta me with that big black dick, Zack!” Amy screamed. “I’m cumming all over your dick!”

I smiled, halfway expecting her to call me nigger.

I ground my hips into her and tapped that ass as hard as I could, and she loved it. “That’s right, fuck this pussy.” I increased my pace.

She began to push back and I slid my hand between her legs and massaged her clit. I reached for her shoulders and pounded myself into Amy until I sprayed cum on her ass.