"It's going to be fun. C'mon. What's the big deal? Why are you so timid all of a sudden?" Rhonda coaxed Gina; she declined to meet new people that night. Rhonda had turned up at Gina's doorstep unannounced at 9 pm, bringing with her a conviction in her old friend Gina agreeing to an impromptu Saturday night out plan. "We haven't been out for two straight Saturdays. This will be the third if we don't go."
"Are you keeping count? We just went out last Monday and Tuesday, then Thursday, each night a different crowd. Those don't count?" Gina chuckled; her friend's zest for partying amused her. "I’m too tired tonight. Why don't you just crash here? I have two bottles of excellent reds and a good rum from The Philippines. I feel like talking with you, anyway."
Gina got up from her bean bag, took and refilled their glasses. The thick carpet engulfed her feet as she walked on it. Still thinking of The Boss' appreciation of her feet, she took pleasure in the way the carpet felt under them. She perceived it as caressing. She quivered in delight. As she walked back from the integrated kitchen to the living room and past the dining area, she looked at her friend, who stole the time to text people. Rhonda was sitting on the plush, sectional sofa facing a wall adorned with a large, red abstract painting of a naked Gina, illuminated by accent lighting. In front of the sofa, was a low rectangular table. Printed papers with markings and annotations were scattered atop the table. Proposals and invoices; the new and completed projects that Gina was working on when Rhonda knocked on the door of her cute little townhouse.&
Last night's party was wild. She had been heavily intoxicated when somebody brought her home and tucked her in bed. The last she checked the time was 2 a.m. Then she remembered nothing. The daily alarm awakened her at 6 o'clock. Her head was heavy; this was a serious hangover. She sat herself up and noticed that Rhonda was lying next to her, fast asleep. Both were still in their party dresses. Instinctively, she reached inside her dress and found she still had her panties on. There had to be a lot of touching and groping last night, but now she was sure that nothing went beyond that—nothing had penetrated her. Rhonda? She thought the same must have happened with Rhonda, otherwise, she wouldn't be here passing out in her apartment.
It was Sunday, over breakfast and the two gentlemen were quite friendly, so Gina got in the mood and ventured into asking a question that could have been disadvantageous to her if the response had been negative. "What do you think of tattoos? Especially on women?" The gentlemen grinned and looked at each other. Abram thought The Boss should respond. "I think tattoos, proper ones, are a work of art. They add to the beauty," he said. "Why, you have one you want to show us?" he teased. "Yes, I do, and you have seen it already. Would you like me to add more?" Gina said, h
"Oh, goodness! Why are you still in bed?" Gina found Rhonda on the bed, lying down, watching a Netflix series, gliding into the late Sunday afternoon with nothing to desire except a full glass of red, fully naked for nobody to appreciate. Until now. She yawned and stretched, pulling everything taut. Flat stomach, muscled thighs, and pert breasts. She smirked, reached for the glass, and downed a swig of her wine insolently—spilled the liquid off her lips, wetting her breasts, then her stomach. Gina admired her friend's body with no envy, as she knew hers was as good if not better. Her legs were as muscled as Rhonda's, but being two inches taller, her calves curved further and tapered toward her ankle more gracefully. Her breasts were fuller and rounder, and the nipples were pinkish, while Rhonda's were light
Gina dressed in a black pin-striped suit and matching high-heeled boots, while Rhonda wore a gray suit with black stilettos. Their pants clung tightly to their shapely upper thighs and outlined the curves of their derrières, but fell loose from their knees. Nothing was exposed except their glorious selves. The ladies' silky, fine hair exhibited a sharp contrast with their suits—auburn against black and brunette on gray. The same Eggs and Flowers' concierge escorted them to the Boss' private room. As the alluring pair walked by, the other patrons wondered which table these fine creatures would be seated at."They must be headed to Georg's table," said one fine-looking gentleman to the other three envious colleagues seated around him—two men and one particularly handsome female. 
Rhonda's first order of business was to arrange the first dinner with Trelleco's chief officers. This wouldn't be simple calls to their secretaries asking them to schedule it in their bosses' calendar. Nevertheless, Rhonda tried the said customary method first, and of course, they were all busy and offered no alternative date. "Can't Abram just tell them to set aside time to meet with us over dinner? He is the big boss, isn't he?" Rhonda asked Gina. Gina explained Abram had to stay in the background to be perceived as impartial over any of the two competing companies. Choosing them over Kronos had to come unanimously from his executive team. Abram could tilt the balance once they entered the later stage of negotiations, but for now, the
Nothing momentous was going on in the office. Every consultant was trying to be at the clients' premises at least fifty percent of the time to earn billable hours. Those who stayed in the office did so quietly and were in shame. They felt useless and were afraid that the company would see them as a cost burden. Except for Dungi. As Gina entered Abalido & Quinaeros' headquarters and walked toward her glass-walled office, she saw Dungi on the phone, like he always was, loitering in the halls, king of the almost-empty workplace. Gina was never sure what his contribution was as a Program Manager, other than offloading the administrative workloads of the swamped project managers and consultants—which he hadn’t been doing. His function was to collate progress reports and integrate them into a single vi
Rhonda drove her convertible along the I-5 highway, slightly above the speed limit. As she drove past other cars without having to accelerate, wind in her hair, she felt the joy of cruising and mused about her father, the person responsible for this delight. Really, all she did was get her first job, a secretarial role that promised no career path nor did it pay well, and that was all it took to make the old man ecstatic. At first she didn't understand what the big deal was until her mother told her it was all about earning her own living. In retrospect, she now understood how hard it must've been for her father to refrain from pampering her, from distracting her from what mattered in adulthood: work and getting paid. A car! He couldn't
She looked out the window. It was raining outside. The plane was still taxiing, rolling slowly on the taxiway. This was it, the last time she would be in the land of her hometown for a long time. She had planned to go back no sooner than six months. If she was to start anew, then today should be her past, tomorrow should be her today, and yesterday should not be revisited too soon. She would not think about the people she left. Not her friends, nor those who were once her clients back in Abalido and Quinaeros—like Roy. Not even Rhonda, the last person she said goodbye to just an hour ago at the airport. And not The Boss—especially not him. She had to make room in her mind for new people, new acquaintances, and new kinds of relationships. She took out the card from her purse—Rhonda had saved
She was not sure how to enjoy the glitz, attention, and admiration she received on the night of the lavish farewell party The Boss threw for her. She would leave for Jakarta as a Trelleconian the following day, and cease to call Georg her boss—and start calling Abram her boss, instead. Something she had never thought would happen. It was surreal—and not something she enjoyed at all. The Boss was her boss now and always—that stood no more. She saw he had spared no expense for her. He closed down the entire Eggs and Flowers for the party, and had them fill the room up with more flowers than what it already had. He made sure that not only the entire management of Abalido and Quinaeros were there that night, but also people who were dear to her. Rocco was there, and a couple of clients she had had cl
"So, you’re finally letting her go," Abram said, seated comfortably, gnawing a cigar, with a drink in his hand—The Boss was doing the same. The Boss said, "I have to," from the mentally opposite side. "It was her decision." He brought to mind the day following their talk the evening after the celebratory party; she had called him to say she was seriously considering the offer, and needed a week to think—and thus his turbulent state of mind. She got back to him yesterday to confirm. Crushed—the seconds that passed tortured him all throughout the night. He met with Abram the following day—this day—to let him know. He forced himself to come to terms with her decision: she would take Abram's job offer and leave him.
It was a glorious day for all of them. The Trelleco board had met and came out to support the Indonesian project, and appointed Abalido and Quinaeros Inc. as their consulting partner. The decision was unanimous—Abram got the unity he wanted not only at the management, but also at the board levels. Kronos had withdrawn their bid the day before when Aerlman—as Trelleco's COO—requested a clear list of key resources to be included in their counterproposal—as he did Abalido and Quinaeros. He acted on the advice Gina gave through The Boss. Surely enough that would have disclosed Kronos' intention to supply inadequate resources if they had not pulled out. To the people who knew, Gina was the star of the private party that the two companies jointly threw together that evening. With the latest thing
The meeting with Waylor was in some place out of town, about twenty miles off Seattle—in Bothell. The diner restaurant was nondescript, and the patrons were scarce. She walked to the end of the room and recognized the other gentleman Abram had introduced her to during breakfast at Eggs and Flowers. He was not Waylor. He was casually dressed, fitting the atmosphere of the place—so was Gina. Waylor had told her what to expect from the place, "We would just be two suburbanites having dinner," his text to her said. He stood up as she approached, and formally introduced himself and they shook hands, unlike two intimate suburbanites. "I'm sorry Mr. Waylor cannot make it in the last minute but insisted this meeting with you
What The Boss did not want to reveal, was not a mystery hard to unravel. The four of them got together on the same evening after Gina met The Boss. She had expected something that would take much longer with him, but otherwise considered what had transpired during lunch as progress. Still in her jubilant mood, Gina told Rhonda, Linda and Rocco what she had learned at her lunch with him: The Boss' hands were everywhere in their affair on and before that fateful night. "Still, he wouldn't let me know how." Except in the case of Roy, which Gina knew from Roy himself—The Boss gave him a pass that was valid on the day their plan was to be executed. Cunning—the girls realized how shrewd their boss was. Rhonda shared what sh
The Sun peered now and then over the grey condensed water vapor. The wind slipped through between the buildings and trees and was quick to wipe out the warmth off the skin. One could see the windswept hair of the women as they went in and out of the shops, and smell the wafted scent of perfume as they passed one another. The afternoon was cloudy and cold. Her heart was joyous. The concierge at Eggs and Flowers was cheerful to see her back. He was quick to greet and usher her to her dining room. He left her at the doorway of the private room. "He's been waiting for you, Miss," he said, smiling before walking away. He stood from his seat the moment she appeared, and walked toward her
The vigor of their lovemaking had sated them and made them hungry. Roy thought it would be nice if they could have their after-sex meal together, and Gina liked the idea. She would not come to lunch with her boss that hungry, either. As she was whipping something up in the kitchen for them to eat, from the other side of the kitchen countertop he said, "By the way, I’ve informed your boss of the unfortunate thing that happened to you last night." What? She stopped beating the eggs. He continued, unaware of her surprise, "He did not say much, but from the few questions he asked I could hear his immense anger through his quivering vo
She observed the good-looking man lying beside her. Roy was still fast asleep. He brought her to his place following her sweet promise of a night together —although she had offered her place, too. That was an odd choice to make, she thought. For a man who was after sex, he should have preferred the female counterpart's place instead, so he could leave when he wished —usually a dent on the pillows was all that was left as the evidence of his ever being there, or maybe fleetingly longer if there was a last-minute subsequent loving-act. She had thought the vain Roy was merely interested in sex and scoring a conquest. She was ok with that, liked it even. It would be a tango. Now, after the night of lovemaking, she caught a different vibe from him. Though not in clear terms, she was sure he was in love with her.&