Dismissing my thoughts of mal-intent toward Mr. Roth, I busied myself with gathering the remainder of my meeting supplies. Taking inventory in my head, I grabbed my steno pad and a few pens in addition to the supplies for the shareholders. Going back to the conference room, I proceeded to lay out the pencils, pens, and legal pads at each space around the table. Following my path around the room, I stopped in front of a long counter on the far side of the space. White marble tops a series of cupboards designed to camouflage the small refrigerator and storage space behind them. Opening the doors, I retrieved a bag of ice cubes and a gallon of purified drinking water. From another cupboard, I grabbed two crystal pitchers and matching bowls.
Trying to balance all of the items, I gingerly made my way back to the table and placed one set of each at either end of the conference table. One more trip back to the storage space and I returned with several stacks of crystal glasses, which I proceeded to place at each chair. I filled the two bowls with ice and placed silver tongs on the top. I then filled the pitchers with drinking water. Stepping back, I admired my work. Wonderful, one thing down. Now for my copies.
I dared to glance at the clock above Ms. Salas’ desk as I exited the conference room. The cruel, mocking face of the clock informed me that I had a mere ten minutes to go.
As if on cue, Marlow Rhandstad, Chief Accountant, walked through the double-doors that lead into the Executive Suite from the outside corridor. A short, thin man with serious eyes. A preoccupied look occupied his features. He wore a dark blue, three-piece suit that declared to the world his status at G. Roth and Associates. His presence was a constant and I had learned to appreciate his dry humor and love of punching numbers. In college, I hated studying economics, but for people like Mr. Rhandstad, staring at numbers and calculating the bottom line are a wet dream.
“Good morning Mr. Rhandstad,” I greeted him cordially. “Hello Ms. King. Are we all set?” He looked at me, his gaze reflecting hope that all is right with the world. At least this world. “Almost ready,” I stated without really looking at him. My eyes drawn to the doors opposite mine, the lair of Mr. Roth. I felt a sense of anger welling up from way below where I stuffed it earlier. Shaking my head slightly in disappointment, I turned my attention back to Mr. Rhandstad.
“We had a minor setback with the paperwork this morning, but it’s working itself out.” I watched as his shoulders slumped with disappointment. I hated being the source of his angst. I hated even more that it was an unavoidable situation, created by someone else. My preparation the evening before completely negated by the careless actions of one man. Still unanswered was the question of why? With his motivation for undoing all of my hard work still unknown to me, my emotions threatened again. Frustration, anger, and a touch of dismay. A blend of negativity that I could allow to overwhelm me before a big meeting. Stuffing it back down again, I attempted to console Mr. Rhandstad.
“Worry not Mr. Rhandstad, I’ve got this covered,” my weak smile a thin disguise for the reality I was facing. “Please make yourself comfortable as I finish setting up.” I motioned toward the conference room with a graceful gesture intended to distract him from his current mood. I watched as he disappeared behind the doors and turned to return to the copy room.
Upon entering the cold surroundings of the copy room, I was relieved to discover my packets being collated with precision onto the output trays of the Xerox machine staged on the far wall. I breathed a sigh of relief. The copier had a tendency to act up when I needed things to go smoothly. Today, it seemed, I have escaped the finicky mood of my secondary nemesis. My first, of course, being Mr. Roth.
The final copy complete, I gathered the stack of documents, removed my original from the machine and exited the room. Making my way across the lobby to the conference room, I saw three more figures enter the vast space of the lobby. Two stuffy looking gentlemen and one female walk through the doors. Attempting not to drop my paperwork, I greeted them with an outstretched hand. Shaking each one in turn, I welcomed them and gestured for them to follow me. With the guests in tow, I led them through the heavy, wooden doors and into the conference room.
Mr. Rhandstad had taken his preferred seat: to the left of the head of the table, closest to the exit. Ready to run if need be. This thought amused me as I pictured him running from the room, his dark, silk Versace tie trailing behind him like an obscure tail. I hadn’t realized I was smiling until my eyes met his. A tight-lipped look of nervous energy consumed his features. His eyes softened when they met mine. Perhaps something about my presence created within him a calming that neither of us could explain. I had a way of distracting people from their reality. Something I could not quite put my finger on danced behind his eyes, as I watched the tension in his shoulders dissolve into a more relaxed posture.
As I walked around the table, placing the packets at each chair, the other guests filed in the door, taking their place after briefly greeting Mr. Rhandstad. It was amusing to see them take their usual seats around the table. So predictable. This group always had to have things just-so.
They were used to it that way, and were not the type to take to change very easily. It was my job to ensure that their expectations were met. That part was easy. I enjoyed the task of making their world more comfortable, because I could. It was Mr. Roth who kept me on my toes, constantly changing his expectations without informing me he had done so. It was a daily dance that I could do without, that was for sure.
My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by someone clearing their throat loudly. Speak of the Devil . I hadn’t noticed the chairs had been filled up and Mr. Roth, standing at the head of the table was glaring at me. Quickly I looked down toward the ground and made my way to my place in the meeting. A chair was left empty directly to the right of Mr. Roth. I could feel his eyes burning into me as I took a seat in the high-back, leather chair.
“So nice of you to join us Ms. King,” the sarcasm dripped from his lips as he looked at me. I felt the blood rushing to my face as I quickly turned two shades of pink darker. “If you’re finally ready, maybe we can start this meeting, before I retire.”
I concentrated on my breathing. What I wanted to do was turn and slap him. Hard. I wanted to scream in his face that if he had not deliberately sabotaged my efforts from the evening before, I would not have been rushed this morning to get things ready. Wishing I could follow through with my fantasy of belittling him the way he did to me so often, I sat quietly and concentrated on my hands. Trying not to make my frustration obvious, that would give him too much satisfaction, I counted silently in my head.
One…two…three…
I wanted to hit him, scream at him, make him feel as badly as he did me. Although it was almost too much to take, I had made the decision long ago not to let him take me down. Tenacious, that is how my mother described me more often than not, and my choice to remain in the daily purgatory at G. Roth and Associates proved that she was indeed correct.
Four…five…six…
Get ahold of yourself Leila, his day will come. Someday, someone, somewhere will force him from his sense of superiority and knock him back down to a normal level of existence.
Seven…eight…nine…
I could feel myself relaxing, distracted from the present by my last thought. Someday, Mr. Roth would get his, and I just hoped I was around to witness it.
Trying to pay attention to what was being said, I mindlessly scribbled notes onto my steno pad as the meeting got underway. It was difficult, but I stuffed down the emotions that were trying to take over, trying to take control of me. I vaguely heard the suits drone on about the financial state of G. Roth and Associates, my thoughts had carried me far away, and I longed to stay there, in the safety of my own mind. Away from Gordon Roth and his torturous behavior. To a secret world where I ruled and Gordon Roth could not touch me.
-3-
The rest of the Shareholders’ meeting went off without a hitch. Chang’s was delivered at 12:30, as I had instructed. Everyone w
as eating their meal, making small talk to fill the void yet avoiding any heavy conversation. I sat quietly as those in attendance helped themselves to Chow Mein, Cashew Chicken and Broccoli Beef. The enticing aroma associated with Chinese food diffused through the conference room.
Waiting patiently until everyone was through retrieving their lunch, I approached the counter where the food had been laid out buffet-style. I helped myself to some steamed rice and vegetables. Grabbing a pre- packaged fork and napkin packet, I returned to the conference table to partake of my meal.
As I took my seat again, Mr. Roth cleared his throat loudly to demand the attention of the group. I heard several people suddenly quiet as their focus shifted to their fearless leader. I did not look up as everyone else was doing. Somehow, I knew what was coming next .
“I want to thank you all for coming today,” his thunderous voice overwhelmed the ambient noise of the room. His face was serious and the sharp angles of his jaw gave him a commanding presence. Dark eyes veiled the true nature of his purpose. He took on an overly confident persona in his designer suit that complimented his complexion perfectly. His cleanly shaven head lending to his overall strong and pompous façade.
“I do apologize for the disorganization you came into this morning. After three years, I had hoped that Ms. King would get her act together, but she is obviously still in need of some training. Please enjoy your lunch ladies and gentlemen. I am afraid that I must take my leave at this time in preparation for another appointment.” He finished speaking and abruptly exited the room leaving us all to digest his final thoughts.
I felt as though I had just been punched in the stomach as I struggled to maintain my composure. I felt the sting as I fought back the tears that threatened to display my inherent weakness. His display of arrogance was astounding and I was at a loss for words. I felt their eyes upon me as I took several cleansing breaths. Unfortunately for me, my day was not over and my time with Mr. Roth was still to come.
Avoiding eye contact, I stood quietly, exhaling as I did so. “Excuse me if you will, I have a few things to do in preparation for my next meeting,” I said almost in a whisper. I felt the heat spreading across my face and neck, knowing I was as bright as a ripe tomato. Not waiting for anyone to reply, I slid through the doorway and into the reception area where Ms. Salas greeted me with a comforting smile. I smiled back the best I could before disappearing behind my office door.
Sinking to the floor, I began to cry. I could not stop the tears from flowing down my cheeks, leaving their mark in my face makeup as they did so. The room began to spin slightly and I was forced to concentrate on my breathing to regain control. I was beside myself with emotion. Mostly, the sensation of despair came in waves, crashing into me and threatening to knock me down. My heartbeat throbbing rhythmically in my ears served only to drag me down further. I chastised myself out loud, demanding I get ahold of myself immediately and not let THAT man get the best of me. Who was he anyway? Mr. Gordon Roth is just another self-absorbed, narcissistic, control freak that made the lives around him miserable. Especially his most trusted assistant, me.
My shoulders slumped forward with my impossible burden. I became acutely aware of the inability to control the emotions that surged through me. Mr. Roth had deliberately embarrassed me in front of everyone at the meeting and I was beside myself. Despite my efforts to maintain control, I realized that I was being consumed. All I had done had been negated by one man and I found myself reeling with familiar discontent.
As I sat on the floor struggling to regain my composure, my phone rang. The loud digital chime cutting through my thoughts crudely. Clearing my throat, I carefully stood up, paying close attention to my breathing to keep from collapsing under the weight of my own turmoil. I glanced at the caller ID on my phone perched on top of my desk. “Gordon Roth,” the display proclaimed. Breathing deeply, I grasped the handset and raised it to my ear. I closed my eyes and hoped my voice was steady as I answered his call.
“Good afternoon, this is Leila,” my typical cordial greeting. I thought it would be best if I just played it off. Pretending that my entire world wasn’t on the verge of collapse, I held my breath and waited for a reply.
“Ms. King, what is wrong with you? You left our guests to dismiss themselves. I think we should meet now, before I converse with my associate attorneys. Pull yourself together and join me in my office right away.” He finished abruptly and hung up the phone. His words echoed in my head as I slowly returned the handset to its home.
Gathering a few supplies, I began to mentally prepare myself for the impending doom that was sure to befall me in the confines in Mr. Roth’s office. Armed with a steno pad, two pens and my keys, I exited my office, smoothing my hair hastily with my fingers before I entered the lobby. I stole a brief glance at myself in an ornate mirror mounted to the wall just inside my door.
“Ms. Salas, I will be meeting with Mr. Roth now. Please direct the associates to the Board Room upon arrival.” I attempted a smile that left me feeling awkward. Knowing she can see right through my persona, I crossed the marble floor slowly in the direction of the foreboding double-doors. Mr. Gordon Roth, Esq., the large, brass plaque declared. I reached forward, my hand hovering over the door-handle for quite some time before I got up the nerve to grasp and turn it.
Walking across the threshold into Mr. Roth’s office seemed to go in slow motion. He sat at his desk looking down at some paperwork in front of him. Mr. Roth did not spare a glance in my direction as I walked toward him. I felt the warmth returning to my cheeks and knew my emotions would be obvious once he looked at me. When I reached his desk, I cleared my throat to announce my presence, still nothing.
After a few moments Mr. Roth finally met my gaze. His dark eyes bored into the depth of my soul, searching for something I was not willing to give him. I could see amusement in his face as I stood uncomfortably in front of him, shifting my weight between my legs to ease the pressure of my aching feet.
Without saying a word, Gordon Roth motioned for me to take a seat. I slowly lowered myself into one of the two high-back, leather chairs that faced his desk. I could feel the cool touch of polished leather on my legs through my panty hose.
A slight creaking sound broke the silence as the leather yielded to the weight of my body. I was now at eye level with him, and I felt a rush of heat flow through me as he sat motionless studying me. His index fingers pressed together to a point poised beneath his chin reflecting a studious manner. I said nothing, I just waited for his purpose to be revealed.
“Ms. King,” he finally said, his tone flat and matter-of-fact. “Do you care to explain yourself, or shall I go first?” His eyes never left mine and I suddenly began to feel strange. I was not sure what he wanted to hear, what his game was, but I carefully played out my thoughts before beginning to speak. Something told me to say as little as possible. Why exacerbate his already combatant mood?
“I do not understand Mr. Roth,” I began to pick my way carefully through the conversation. “Why would you remove all the items I had prepared yesterday for today’s meeting? I had them carefully collated and ready in the Board Room before I left for the evening. I fought a nasty bought of constipated freeway syndrome this morning, but knew I had prepared everything in advance so I was not that concerned, until I saw what you had done.” I stopped. His eyes were burning with fury. I had said something he did not like and I was about to hear about it.
“Have you ever heard of personal responsibility Ms. King? I know it is something lacking in today’s society, but I prefer to surround myself with like-minded individuals. I am a firm believer in owning your actions and mistakes and pointing fingers only leads to a serious decline in the ethical fabric of our world.”
Mr. Roth finished speaking but I could tell by the look on his face he was searching for more to say. It didn’t take long before he continued to pummel me with words.
“If you are unable to handle the level of responsibility I have given you, perhaps I
should find someone who can. Someone who will not blame others for their short comings. I will be watching you and it is not beyond me to eliminate your position and recruit more competent help.”
As he spoke, I felt my shoulders begin to slump and curl inward My feeble attempt at crawling inside myself for protection. With nowhere to run and the next meeting creeping upon on us, I sat quietly and took my lashings. When he was finished speaking, Mr. Roth sat expectantly, waiting for my reply.
Speaking carefully, I attempted to keep my wavering voice under control as I forced a response from my mouth.
“No Mr. Roth, that will not be necessary. I have noted your displeasure and will strive not to disappoint you in the future.” I cringed internally with each word. Knowing that he was just eating this ordeal up began to infuriate me. Amusement danced behind his dark eyes, which only served to irritate me further.
Mr. Roth remained silent for a moment longer, basking in his glorious defeat. The air between us was electrified. Silence, save the sound of a clock ticking away the seconds. Clearing his throat finally, he uttered what seemed like a rehearsed response.
“That remains to be seen Ms. King.” Glancing at the clock on the wall, he motioned for me to leave. Not exactly a productive conversation, but I managed to keep my composure. Despite the urge to leap across the desk and claw his eyes out, I rose silently and turned to exit.
“Don’t forget our next meeting Ms. King,” his tone mocked my effort to contain my anger. “You only have thirty minutes to prepare.”
Without looking back, I exited Mr. Roth’s office. A welcome rush of cool air met me in the foyer and I breathed it in slowly, concentrating on calming my nerves.
1…2…3…
I could feel the color returning to my face and I shook of the eminent tears that threatened to reveal my weakness. Smiling at Ms. Salas as I passed the reception desk, I forged a path back to the safety of my office. It was a good thing I had prepared for the Associate Attorneys’ meeting prior to leaving the night before as I realized Mr.
Goddess: A Femme Domme Erotica Novel Page 3