Rotting Rage

by Gayle Katz

  “You mean the guy from Hamilton Motor Group?”

  “Yeah. Him.”

  “Interesting. Why didn’t you mentioned this earlier?”

  “I guess I forgot. Sorry.” I say as I look over at Jack’s boss to see her glaring at me.

  “Advertising and content should be separate,” his boss says. “I’m not sure I like you endorsing products and services. You represent the station and objective news reporting, and you’re going to hock this guy’s cars?”

  “It’s not ideal, I know, but he’s going to pay a premium price and that’ll mean a significant income stream for the station.”

  “Where’s lunch going to be?” Jack asks.

  “Not sure yet. Probably at some expensive restaurant.”

  “Sounds fancy. Well, just let me know. I’ll be out and about all morning.”

  “As soon as I know, you’ll know.”

  “Maybe we can get him to host the meeting at his dealership. That way we can check out new cars. Maybe get an insiders deal?”

  “I’m not sure he got rich giving people good deals,” I say.

  “Anywho. Crisis averted. Problem solved.” Jack says. “I can reschedule my appointments for earlier in the day so I can do this lunch and hit the editing booth early afternoon. Does that work, ladies?”

  “Thank you,” I quickly say to both Jack and his boss as I sneak out of the newsroom. I honestly don’t want to hear what she has to say on the matter. I head back into the office. Time to review the presentation so all of the details are fresh in my mind. I still have a couple of hours until my boss arrives to work.

  Chapter 3

  ________________________________________

  Back at my desk, I browse through my list of the larger businesses in the local area. One of my tasks this morning is to call and see if they’d be interested in learning about how they can partner with the station to drive more business. I wasn’t in the mood. Cold calling isn’t my thing. At heart, I’m still an introvert and, despite successfully making some friends and acquaintances, I prefer to be by myself or with Jack. Too many people in a room freaks me out and I guess it always will. This is where Jack and I are polar opposites. He's definitely more of a people person. Introducing himself, taking charge, and making small talk is nothing new for him.

  I put the list down and instead focus on reviewing our client presentation for today. It’s a big one. Car dealerships have lots of money to throw at advertising, plus most of them get reimbursed from the manufacturer when they advertise. Not to mention the additional kickbacks they receive when they sell vehicles. While some of that money goes back into the business in the form of advertising, employee raises, and building maintenance, the majority of it goes into the owner's deep pockets.

  The newsroom is humming with activity twenty-four hours a day. I can hear it faintly from here. The office? Not so much, but that’s OK. The silence helps me concentrate on my work. I have to put the finishing touches on the presentation and print out a few copies before my boss arrives. Plus it wouldn’t hurt if I write out talking points and rehearse for the meeting. I’m hoping everything goes smoothly. Signing this deal could mean a lot for the station and for Jack and me.

  8:00 a.m.

  My boss stops by my desk. He’s taller than I am, but then most people are so that’s not saying much. He’s also older than Jack. If I have to guess, I would say he’s in his mid-30s. While he keeps to himself, he doesn’t have a problem barking orders or nit-picking, if needed. For the most part, he’s an OK guy.

  “Good morning, Jane,” he greets me.

  “Good morning, John,” I reply.

  “Let me grab some coffee and we’ll huddle to make sure we’re good to go for the big presentation today,” he says as he drops his briefcase in his office. He walks over to the coffee station.

  He returns to my desk, a large coffee mug filled to the brim, steaming hot.

  “So? How are you feeling? Pretty good?” he asks. It’s all business as usual. His questions are to gauge my level of preparedness for the meeting rather than a personal inquiry.

  “I think so. I just finished the presentation this morning so it’s fresh in my mind. I even wrote notes and practiced it,” I say, never letting on that it wasn't even on my mind a few short hours ago.

  “Very good. I have complete confidence in you. Nevertheless, let me review it when you’re done.”

  “Sure thing, John. Actually, you can take it now. I’ve been working on it and staring at this thing for hours. I need to focus on something else for a while,” I say as I hand him the document I printed.

  “Thanks. Make sure to send me an electronic copy too in case I’d like to make any changes.”

  “Will do.”

  “And you do remember that the owner and his group are coming here, right?”

  “No, I didn’t know that. When did that happen?”

  “Last night. It was a last minute change. I thought I emailed you. He wants to tour the station, so we’ll need to have lunch catered today. Order enough for six. He shouldn’t have more than three other people joining him.”

  “OK.”

  “Is Jack going to join us?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s good. Then make it enough for seven.”

  “Sure.”

  John walks back to his office, presentation in one hand and coffee in the other.

  With my hands free of the presentation for the moment, I take out my phone and text Jack:

  “Change in plan. The meeting will be here in the conference room, not at the dealership. Reply with a winky face so I know you receive this message. Love you, J.”

  While I wait for his wink, I pick up the desk phone and dial the local take-out place we usually use to cater our lunches. They have a good menu.

  “Hello. Antonia’s Place. How can I help you?” the lady on the other end of the line asks.

  “Hi. My name is Jane and I work at WZOM. We need to order lunch. Enough for seven.”

  “Sure thing, hon. What time is lunch?

  “11:30.”

  “OK and what can I get ya?”

  “Can you make up a large tray of sandwiches? A variety of them: tuna, ham, turkey and such.”

  “Sure. Any bread preferences?”

  “Whatever you normally do. Rye maybe?”

  “Got it. Anything else? Drinks? Salad? Desserts?”

  “Yes. Those would be good. Sodas. Maybe a tea or too. Side salad bowl. And a small cookie tray would be fine.”

  “I added it to your order. We’ll start on this soon. We should be in the area about 11:15 to set up.”

  “Sounds perfect. Thank you. See you soon.”

  I hang up the office phone and moments later, my smart phone buzzes. It’s Jack’s winky face. The morning isn’t going half bad. We went from chaos mere hours ago to being back on track, having an almost finished presentation under review, organizing for a lunch meeting, and getting everyone on board as things finally fall into place. It feels awesome being the centerpiece orchestrating the whole affair, especially when everything works out.

  Feeling good, I turn my attention to my call list again, specifically the largest businesses in the area. Today will be the day I’ll do something more than just continue to stare at it. Maybe I can stretch my comfort zone, try to reach out, and entice them to at least listen to what the station has to offer. Not to mention that the station donates about 10% of all its profits to the university. After the zombie outbreak years ago, the bomb the military dropped, and the decrease in student enrollment, the school needed some serious help rebuilding and still does. It hasn’t fully recovered. There’s more at stake here than just my own odd personality quirks. I pick up the phone and dial the first number on the list.

  10:00 a.m.

  It doesn’t take long for me to feel like I have a phone permanently attached to my ear. After a couple of hours of getting the run around about why this person or that one isn’t interested in advertising w
ith the station, I somehow manage to find three companies who are intrigued by my pitch. Go figure. They want to learn more. I pencil in their discovery appointments over the next few weeks. At that point, I decide I need a break to unwind and chill out before the meeting with the car dealer.

  I look at my watch. “Gotta start to get ready. They’ll be here in an hour,” I say to myself, “and I want to be prepared.”

  I get up from my desk and check in with John, who is sitting on the guest couch in his office. “Were you able to review the presentation? Did you have any changes?”

  He looks up from his coffee. “The presentation is good, Jane. I only made a couple of changes. Let me send it back to you. Take a look at them. If you have any questions, let me know. Otherwise, print out enough copies for everyone to review their own and take notes.”

  “Sure thing,” I reply, biting my tongue before following it up aloud with a scathing, job-ending retort. Walking back to my desk, I mumble under my breath, “He had over two hours to let me know about the presentation so I could get ready. Why he waits until I ask him is beyond me.”

  I pop open my email and hit refresh about ten times before I see his email come in. I quickly click on the attachment and open the revised presentation. Checking each slide, he didn’t add much. Just a few needless bells and whistles like a table of contents and page numbers, nothing critical.

  I run over to the printer, check the paper tray, and make sure it has enough color ink. Heading back to my desk, I start to feel apprehensive, my breath shortening, and my palms sweating. I rewind back to years ago when the ceiling fell into the main office area of the radio station I was working at, and then crashed through the floor. Jack and I could have been killed. A chill runs down my spine. I try not to think about the past, but sometimes I can’t help myself or control it. Maybe certain smells, sights, or specific words trigger these memories? A shrink I met with a few times after that ordeal years ago tried to diagnose it as some form of post-traumatic stress disorder. Who knows – maybe it was stress-induced? I’m not sure to be honest. While what happened will always be a part of me, it’s the past and it should stay in the past. I have to move forward.

  I try to compartmentalize my thoughts and focus on the tasks at hand: getting back to my desk, printing the presentation, and collating them for our meeting at 11.

  Chapter 4

  ________________________________________

  10:30 a.m.

  I’m in the conference room. It’s nothing fancy, just a large wooden table surrounded by standard plastic office chairs with fabric cushions. The room is really quite boring. It’s got gray carpeting and white walls. Jack interrupts the monotony and surprises me.

  “Hello, Gorgeous!” he says.

  I blush. “Hey you,” I reply, smiling. No one else is in the room, so I didn’t have to lecture him on being professional.

  “Are you ready for your meeting or can I help at all?”

  “I’m good. The presentation is set up and ready to go,” I say as I motion towards the conference table. “I’ve even placed a bottle of water next to each presentation. And lunch should arrive no later than 11:30.”

  “Looks like you’ve got it together.”

  “Yep. How about you? You get all your stories?”

  “Yes, I did. I was very productive this morning. My interviews went well. You’d be proud of me.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I’m always proud of you. Maybe today won’t be as long and painful as I originally thought,” I joke to Jack.

  “That’s music to my ears. I like seeing you happy. Listen, we’ve got about 30 minutes until your meeting begins. If you’ve got everything under control, let’s celebrate for a few minutes,” Jack whispers into my ear.

  “Celebrate? What do you mean?”

  “You’ll see,” he says. He grabs my hand and leads me to the office supply closet. He opens the door, pulls me inside, and closes the door behind us. It’s dark in here. I can barely see Jack and I know he’s right in front of my face.

  “What are you doing? Someone’s gonna see us.”

  “Shh.” He puts his finger to my lips.

  He checks the door and locks it. Once secure inside, he pushes my back flush against the hard wood of the door. Without another word, he touches my cheek and my lips with his fingers, moves closer, and starts kissing me. Mmmm. I can never resist Jack. I kiss him back, caught up in the moment before remembering our environment. I put my hands on his chest and break away from our kiss.

  “What if someone needs office supplies?”

  “You worry too much.”

  Jack pushes me back against the door. He covers my lips with his again and we continue our make-out session. As we kiss, he runs his hands up and down the curves of my body. His fingers feel so good against my skin. I start to get a little lightheaded from all of the excitement, but that doesn’t slow me down. I focus on kissing him. He unbuttons my blouse and his lips move down my neck. I run my fingers through his thick, brown hair. He continues kissing me down my chest, my stomach. As he goes lower, he kisses me through my skirt. He’s teasing me and I love it. As he slowly stands back up, he plants kisses back up my neck and lifts my skirt up. I try to unzip his pants, but my arms aren’t long enough. Jack smiles.

  “Ready?”

  “Yes. Oh god, yes.”

  Knowing that I’m on board with what’s happening and what’s going to happen, he pulls my panties down to my knees. He unzips his pants. As I move, my panties fall from my knees to the floor. I step out of them. Jack lifts my left leg up so that my foot is resting on one of the storage shelves. My leg is almost at a ninety-degree angle when I feel him push into me. I moan and Jack covers my mouth with his hand.

  “I know it feels good, but you have to be quiet,” he smiles.

  “Mm-Hmm.”

  He removes his hand from my mouth and kisses me. He pulls out a bit and then penetrates me again and again. That lightheaded feeling doesn’t go away and I feel euphoric, high even. I hold on to him tight. The last thing I want to do is lose my balance and fall. That wouldn’t be romantic at all. As we move as one, I wrap my arms around his neck as we continue kissing. He kisses me back harder. Parting my lips with his tongue, we’re totally entwined with one another.

  Keeping track of time, Jack slips his fingers down into me and begins rubbing and touching to help my orgasm come a little faster. We have things to do today besides each other. With his other hand, he covers my mouth again. He knows I make noise. As I quiver around him, I can feel him orgasm inside me. He’s quiet about it, though.

  After the fireworks end, he pulls away from me for a moment.

  “I want to make sure you’re relaxed for your meeting.”

  “I’m not sure I’m more relaxed, but I’m definitely in a much better mood.”

  “Me too,” he smiles as he kisses me again. “We’ll continue this tonight, Gorgeous.”

  I fix my hair and my clothes as I come back to reality. “I’ll leave first,” I say, “you follow in a few minutes. It might be weird if someone sees us coming out of the closet together.” I grab a notebook and a pad of sticky notes in order to play the role convincingly.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right,” Jack concurs.

  I open the door and try to walk out like no one is watching. With my office supplies in hand, I go back to my desk, sit down, and pull out my pocket mirror from my bag. I need a new one. The one I have now is loose and falling out of its case. I open my desk drawer and grab my lucky roll of duct tape. Cutting off a small piece, I’m able to save my mirror from smashing to the floor.

  I take out my fancy drugstore lipstick and swipe on another layer. Hopefully Jack remembers to wipe his lips. Smudged lipstick and the walk of shame don’t fit in well with the expected sterile professionalism of the workplace. I continue my primping. I want to make sure I’m presentable. It’s approaching 11:00 a.m. after all.

  I look up to see Jack exiting the supply closet. He smiles as he
walks by my desk. I smile back and point at my lips. He quickly wipes his off and continues walking. “Meet us in the conference room at 11:00, OK?”

  “Sure thing. I’ll be there,” he says before disappearing into the men's room to tidy up.

  I sit at my desk for a moment trying to focus on what I’m going to say and how I’m going to act. My hormones are in overdrive thanks to Jack.

  “Everything is going to be fine, Jane,” I say to myself, “Just breathe.” I take a few more moments to collect myself and focus on my breathing. The fluttering in my chest begins to subside.

  With that, I get up and walk over to the front desk receptionist, Jody.

  “Hey there, Jody!”

  “Hey Jane. What’s up?”

  “I’m expecting a guest today. Well, in a few minutes actually. He’s here for a meeting. When he gets here, can you escort him to the conference room?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Is he cute?”

  “I’m not sure,” I say as I begin to walk away, “you tell me when he gets here.”

  Another critical detail dawns on me and I turn back to Jody for a moment to convey the additional information, “There’s also a lunch delivery expected around 11:30 or so.”

  “You got it.”

  “Thanks again,” I say as I continue my journey back to the conference room.

  Entering the conference room, I look around to see about any last minute preparations.

  11:00 a.m.

  Jack and John enter the conference room moments after me, clearly chatting about something.

  “Where is the guest of honor?” John asks.

  “Not here yet,” I reply, “he probably just ran into a little traffic. We’ll give him a little more time. I know it’ll give me time to run to the bathroom.”