SIX

"That is...acceptable."

Charles McAllister turned Joanne Belfort on her back, her hips arching upwards to his crotch and his swollen biceps seizing her fragile thin waist. He leans forward, and whispers in her ear "So go do some good work, then."

He heaves her away from his body, and slowly returns to his desk. Business as usual. Joanne stands stunned; Her head was spinning, her eyes half-open and her pants were soaked. Was this some sort of new play? Did he want her to approach? Toleft beg for it? She bit her lip and hoped her red lipstick was still in it's vibrant red colour, and she approached him. Swaying her hips like what she saw other women do on TV.

"Did you want something?" Charles asked curtly.

"I - Yes. I just explained-" started Joanne.

Charles flicked his  wrist and played with the rolex there. 

"It's getting rather late, Joanne. Go home. The streets of Madrid aren't too safe for women these days. The driver will take you."

"Uhmm.." Joanne trailed off.

"Yes?" McAllister asked with those unblinking, cold eyes.

"Uhmmm... I guess I'll see you-tomorrow, Sir. At work." she replied.

"Yes, Goodbye." Charles replied without even looking up, going over the hard-copy schematics of the overseas bridge for the umpteenth time. 

Joanne looked back at him one more time before shutting the double doors.

    At her desk, Charles' butler was already waiting for her.

    "If the madam would please-"the butler said.

Joanne packed her empty hand bag and followed the man out. Her thoughts only anticipating what tomorrow could bring...

*********************************

Flip, flip, flip. The light rustles of the notebook periodically sliced the solid air of silence in the room that evening. The room was dark save for the small flashlight in Joanne's hand, and the breeze occasionally slammed the window panels against their frames.

Suddenly, the room lights came on.

"Joanne!" Susan cried out.

"Mmmm?" Joanne replied with a half-eye.

"It's 3 frickiglng A.M."

"Oh, sorry. I was-" trailed Joan. 

"Was trying to make sense of something?" she finished.

"What?!" Susan asked.

"Work stuff." Joanne meekly replied. Susan, with a nifty movement, snatched the 2 A3 papers away from Joanne.

"By 3 AM in the fucking morning. What? Are they paying your weight in diamonds or something?" Susan complained.

"I'll accept even copper at this point" remarked Joanne.

"What is this?" Susan asked referring to the drawings.

"Schematics for a bridge in Australia." Joanne was prompt.

"WTF?" Susan started. "And why do you have this?"

Joanne leaped like a cat to catch the large crumpled A5 and clutch it close to her bosom.

"You're not supposed to see that. It's sensitive information."

"Okay with the fancy words" Susanned surrendered her arms.

"Sorry. It's just, I was supposed to finish this today."

"So, just do it tomorrow."

"No, it'll be too late by then. If I submit it that late, I won't get a-"

Suzanne raised her eyebrows.

"A bonus! I won't get any bonuses"

"Ahh, I see. Steady on the grind, yeah? Respect." 

"And speaking of grinding..." Susannne waved her hips and smiled.

"Felt any lately? Hard, round, shaft-like? Ring any bells?"

"I should be asking you. It's been a while since your boyfriend came in here, hasn't he?"

"I too wasn't getting any sleep either."

"Haha. Well, you know me"

Susanne made a fist and slammed it hard into her other palm. And did so repeatedly.

"Thank you, Susie. I think I get it."

"Anyways, get some sleep."

"Susie?"

"Mmmm?"

"You really think they'd give some like me  me more money? No matter what I do?"

"Nope. But I do believe in miracles" And Susie collapsed on her bed laughing.

A chilling laughter, Joanne thought. of Vincent laughing in the same manner, and her signature fears came back. She turned off the light and decided it best to leave everything till tomorrow.

********

It had been 3 weeks since Joanne had started working for Vincent. Since then, her routine to getting through working day was something like this:

Get to work, ride the elevator to the 5th floor, enter her office: A long wide cubicle just adjacent the double doors to Vincent's office. Isolated from the other staff and their desks, she would wait, type, deliver correspondence to the mail room, tell people Mr Vincent would not be available more times than he was, and stare into nothingness until the end of the day.

She would close later than the rest of this staff each day, because her secretarial duties of waiting on the boss were not to be fixed with something as restricted as time.

Occasionally, Vincent would send his driver up to drop her off or simply shout at the top of his voice to tell her to go, but never called her into his office.

Five days had passed since their electric encounter into his office, and Joanne was feeling particularly bold, if not bolder this time, as she knocked on the double doors. She could feel her chest tightening, her nipples hardening under the bralette, and her head lightening as she awaited a response.

    "Sir?" She called out.

    No response.

    "Excuse me, Mr Vincent? It's Joanne."

    No response.

"I have some unfinished business in my hand for the day. I must've forgotten  to bring them from the mail room today. Sorry." She lied

No response.

Joanne grabbed the handle, surprised at her actions. She did not consider herself a willful woman, and yet, she was about to break into her boss's office. What would he do to her as she entered without permission?

Punishment? He was a cruel man. Or, would he, do other unspeakable things?

She turned the knob, the thought making her sweat a little.

The office was a tundra. Vincent always liked it that way, and the new draft of warm air would be sure to disturb him. To the far left of the room was a window overlooking the city streets, and the armchair behind his desk. 

Joanne approached, biting her lips as her erect nipples chafed under her garments. The chair turned towards her, and...

    "Hello Employee" said Brian.

    "Huh? You're not Mr Vincent!"