by Tia Siren
It was Patrick Palmer.
And he was smiling at me.
He said, “My turn…”
CHAPTER TWELVE: Christopher
“Why are you so worried about the release of this new software patch?” I asked the question for the third time since Patrick and I had sat down with our mugs of insanely hot coffee and insanely delicious Bear Claws.
We met every Friday morning at 7a.m. (or whenever I got there) at The Coffee Bean, a little spot near my house that was far less busy and much more private than the coffee shop we had just off the lobby at KPS.
We had been doing this for a few years now, meeting away from the office so we could discuss what I called, “CEO bullshit” and what Patrick called “points of importance”. I cracked up at that one. Jesus, could we be any more different?
I thought these meetings were usually a waste of time, but Patrick seemed to enjoy them. We didn’t hang out much anymore, given our busy schedules and commitments and very different sets of friends; his mostly nerds, mine mostly females.
He usually worked eighty hour weeks, riding herd over the programmers and the technicians and the engineers. I worked fewer hours, but my job was more on the public side of things. I was always tied up with the marketing and sales folks. We were like two sides of a coin. Patrick had his domain and I had mine. Somehow, we made it all work.
“Okay, so we will shoot for next Friday to have the final testing done,” Patrick said seriously, making copious notes on his iPad with a stylus.
I picked up my cup and blew a cooling breath across the steaming surface. Lifting my eyebrows at him, I said, “I hope you didn’t get too pissed at Mac yesterday.”
His eyes came up to meet mine. For a moment, he looked confused, as if he didn’t know who the hell I was talking about.
“Mac? Oh, you mean McKenzie Wallace? The new girl.”
“One and the same,” I said with a slow nod. “I call her Mac.”
“Good for you,” Patrick said. I could tell that I was irritating him, so naturally I kept going. “What do you think of her?”
He shrugged with his eyebrows. “What do I think of her? Do you mean what do I think of her professionally? I haven’t even had time to assess her work. Her college resume is certainly one of the best I’ve seen in a long time.”
“No, Patty cake, that’s not what I’m talking about.” I leaned over my elbows on the table and gave him a sly smile. “I mean, what do you think she’d be like in bed? She’s a little skinny. And I’m not sure I like the goth look, but damn she has a pair of legs that look like they could wrap themselves around you and just pull you in.”
“You’re a pig,” Patrick said, giving me a scolding look that he knew had no real effect on me anymore.
“No, I’m a dude,” I said, enjoying the fact that the conversation was irritating him. Patrick was no prude. He’d had several girlfriends over the years and we’d double-teamed more chicks than I could remember. The difference between us was that when it came to women, I usually let my dick do the thinking, while Patrick led with his heart. I just wanted to fuck. Patrick wanted to bond. I liked to eat pussy. Patrick was a pussy.
Like I keep saying, I’m not sure how we got to be best friends and business partners. I ‘m just glad we did. And sometimes I think if it wasn’t for me, poor Patrick would never get laid.
“I think I’ll take a run at her,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. “I mean, unless you’d like to give her a try.”
Patrick picked up his coffee and leaned back to give me a disgusted look. He said, “Why would I do that?”
I shrugged as I pinched off a hunk of my Bear Claw and popped it into my mouth. Chewing, I said, “I kind of get the feeling that you might like her.”
Poor Patrick. He struggled to keep his expression blank. “What makes you say that?”
“I heard about your little meeting yesterday in the breakroom. My spies tell me that you seemed quite googly-eyed.”
“Googly-eyed?” He frowned at me. “Would your spy be Mandy Pitkin?”
Mandy Pitkin worked in marketing and if there was a female version of me, it was Mandy. She was amazing at her job, which is probably why Patrick left her alone. She was even more amazing when she was sucking my dick in my office or fucking my brains out in the hot tub at my house.
Patrick and I banged Mandy her first week on the job, or perhaps it would be more appropriate to say that she banged us. She had heard the rumors about our little parties and actually sought us out to initiate the fun.
Even after Patrick was spent and asleep, Mandy and I continued the fun and by morning, there was a bond between us that I’ve never been able to explain.
Mandy was the only girl that I wanted to continue fucking after that first party. She and I had been fuck buddies for years. Ours was the perfect relationship because Mandy had no expectations and I made no promises.
She had no claim on me and I had none on her. Still, I couldn’t imagine life without her; though I’d never tell her that. Mandy was my haven. She was the port that I sailed to whenever the storms came.
“Mandy did mention that you two seemed very cozy,” I said. “Bonding over your Big Gulps. So, that’s why I’m asking. Are you interested in McKenzie Wallace or can I test the waters to see if she wants to party with both of us?”
He eyed me from over the top of his coffee cup for a moment. “I’m interested in her brain and what she brings to the company, period. You know that I don’t think either of us should be dating employees.”
Good old Patty. Towing the company line. I smiled and gave him a nod.
“I’ve never dated an employee,” I said with a grin. “And neither have you.”
“You know what I mean.” He was looking really perturbed now. I should have backed off. That’s what a true friend would do, but dammit, Patrick was just so much fun to fuck with.
“So….”
He gave me the look of disgust I’ve come to know so well and said, “Knock yourself out. Just don’t do it on company time.”
“Or on company property,” I shot back, toasting him with my mug. “Yes, yes, I know the drill.”
Without another word, Patrick closed his iPad and slid out of the booth, leaving half a cup of coffee and a barely-touched Bear Claw. I tore the Bear Claw in half and shoved a hunk in my mouth, smiling as I chewed.
I should have felt like a shit for tweaking my best friend, but I didn’t. I loved Patty like a brother, but he seemed to get more morose and serious every day. And less and less fun to be around.
The guy needed to lighten up and enjoy the amazing life he had. He needed to spend some money. And more to the point, he needed to get laid. We hadn’t partied with a girl in a long time. A good three-way would do wonders for me and my old pal.
I glanced at my watch as I set a fifty-dollar bill on the table to cover our twenty-dollar tab.
On the way to my Tesla I called Mandy.
It was only seven-thirty.
We had time for a little early morning delight.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Patrick
I sat at my desk still fuming over the meeting I’d had that morning with Christopher. He’d always been devil-may-care, but he had developed this lackadaisical attitude about the business that I just didn’t understand. And it seemed to be getting worse with every passing year.
The bigger the company got, the less Christopher seemed to care. Maybe the board of directors was right. Maybe it was time to give Christopher the boot. But how could I go along with kicking my best friend and partner out of the business that we had started together so many years ago?
Sure, my technical skills created the first product we brought to market, but without Christopher’s energy and passion, that market would never have even noticed us.
Without Christopher, KPS would have never even gotten on the VC’s radar and there definitely wouldn’t have been an IPO He was solely responsible for raising the seed money we needed to survive. And many of the VC sa
id that Christopher alone was the reason they had written us all of those million dollar checks.
So no, I couldn’t vote Christopher out. But I couldn’t put up with his bullshit much longer, either.
The problem wasn’t a lack of passion and drive. The problem was that Christopher just didn’t take anything serious anymore.
All he cared about was spending money and getting laid and taking trips around the world and getting laid again...
He was barely in the office anymore and when he was, he was too busy chasing women to offer anything of value.
I was no Dr. Phil, but Keisha and I had talked about Christopher on more than one occasion.
She was of the theory that his personality and juvenile behavior stemmed from his childhood. Not many people knew the truth about Christopher Kinsey’s past.
The PR people had painted a rosy picture of the little orphan boy who grew up to start one of the top software companies on the planet.
Christopher never talked about his past to anyone but me, and other than Keisha, I’d never told a soul.
His childhood was Christopher’s story to tell, not mine.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Christopher
I leaned back on Mandy’s king-sized bed and closed my eyes. My shirt was lying on the floor and my pants were around my ankles. And Mandy’s luscious lips were around my cock.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, all was right with the world.
I heard Mandy hum as she held me in her hand and slid her tongue up the underside of the shaft and around the head. Her fingers closed around me and she started to pump slowly, up and down, up and down. I opened my eyes to gaze down at her. She was staring up at me, smiling with the head of my cock pressed to her lips.
“Come here,” I said, holding out my hands and wiggling my fingers to her. She was already naked and wet and ready. She straddled me and, with her eyes closed, lowered herself onto me. The breath rushed out of her lungs as I impaled her.
Mandy was a beautiful girl. If she hadn’t gone into marketing, she could have easily been a model. She had long, thick red hair and skin that was Irish pale, but free of freckles. Her tits were large and natural, with areolas the size of golf balls and nipples that stood erect like two pink thimbles. As she rode me up and down like a prize pony, her tits bounced on her chest.
I put my hands on her hips to set the motion. She dug her fingers into my chest, causing a wonderful wave of pain to go through me. I squeezed her breasts and closed my eyes.
When I heard Mandy squeal my name I knew she was about to come. I lifted my ass off the bed to go even deeper into her. We came at the same moment and she collapsed on top of me.
I smiled at the ceiling.
What a great fucking way to start the day.
* * *
“Can you give me a ride to work?” Mandy asked, standing in her naked glory in the bathroom door. “My car’s in the shop.”
“Your car’s always in the shop,” I said with a sigh as I picked my shirt up off the floor. “You need a new car.”
“Then buy me one,” she said, cocking an eyebrow at me. “I think I deserve a company car for Christmas, don’t you?”
I gave her a smile. “Fine, let’s skip work and go Christmas car shopping.”
She beamed at me. I loved making Mandy smile, even if it cost the company a new Mercedes or Audi convertible. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack,” I said. I winced at my own words, but Mandy didn’t pay any attention. Why would she. She knew nothing of my past. Besides, she was too excited to notice. She ran to me, threw her arms around my neck and nearly sucked my tongue out of my head.
“Give me ten minutes,” she said.
“Will do,” I said, wiping her spit from my mouth with the back of my and. “Take your time.”
She squealed and ran into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
I walked into the living room and collapsed on the couch, thoughts of my parents weighing heavily on my mind.
* * *
It took Mandy nearly an hour to get ready. I didn’t mind. After all, I was the one who had interrupted her morning routine.
I sat on her couch with the TV remote in my hand, staring at the screen, but not really watching because I was thinking about my father.
He died of a heart attack when I was six-years-old. He was just twenty-eight at the time, but he had a hole in his heart that wasn’t detected until the day it burst while he was washing the car. He died in our driveway waiting on the ambulance to arrive.
My mom was a basket case after dad died. She’d always been unstable, in fact, in the suicide note she left she credited my father with keeping her sane as long as he did.
I was too young to know it, but my grandma told me that everyone knew that once my father was gone, it would just be a matter of time before my mom would be gone, too.
The family tried to get her help, but it was no use. She was set on killing herself. My grandma found her in the bathtub with both wrists slit two weeks after my dad’s funeral.
The suicide note was short and to the point and completely generic. I’m unhappy. My life is over. I can’t go on. Blah, blah, blah.
It was a cold, selfish note, which is befitting because suicide is a cold, selfish act.
I remind myself of that fact every time I think about ending my life. For me, the pain would be over, but for those who cared about me; mainly Patrick and Mandy, the pain would just begin.
The other thing that’s stopped me from following in my mother’s footsteps over the years was the postscript in her note, words addressed specifically to me, the six-year-old son she would leave behind.
It simply read, “Christopher. Life is short. Don’t waste a moment doing things you don’t love to do.” I never had. And I never would.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: McKenzie
“Here’s to your first week on the job!”
Keisha clinked her beer bottle to mine. We both took a big sip and sighed at the same time. We giggled like school girls, but nobody paid us any mind. It was Friday night and we were at a place called Louie Louie’s, a bit of a dive bar where the “cool” KPS people hung out after work.
“I can’t believe I made it through a whole week,” I said with a grin. “It’s certainly been an interesting first week.”
I didn’t add that it had been interesting mainly because I’d had nightly wet dreams that involved both Christopher and Patrick. I was never doing them both at the same time in my dreams, though that would have made for an interesting variation on the theme.
They just seemed to tag-team in and out from one minute to the next. Christopher would be hammering me from behind one minute, then I’d be riding Patrick like a bucking bronco the next. I always woke up from the orgasms the dreams brought, which were very real.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I heard Keisha say. She caught me glancing at the other end of the table where Christopher was chatting with the red head from marketing; Mandy something or other. He caught me looking, too. He grinned at me from behind his tall glass of ale.
“My thoughts aren’t worth a penny,” I said, wiping my lips on a napkin. I wiggled my empty beer bottle at her. “I’m getting another. Need one?”
“I’m all good,” she said with a smile. She had spotted a programmer that she had the hots for and was waving him over. She looked at me and winked. “Take your time.”
The bar was fully decked out in what passed for dive bar Christmas regalia. Lights were strung in all directions across the ceiling, but instead of normal red and green Christmas bulbs, they’d used red bulbs that looked like chili peppers.
Sprigs of plastic mistletoe hung from the ceiling in a dozen places. I had to pause several times for couples filled with Christmas cheer and cheap beer blocked the aisle to give each other big, sloppy Christmas kisses.
I finally made my way through the crowded room and emerged at the end of the bar. I held up my bottle to the bartender and he gave me a nod.
&
nbsp; As I waited, I felt someone sidle up next to me. I immediately figured that it was Christopher, so I pretended to ignore him.
Then I heard Patrick’s voice. “Can I buy you a drink?”
I turned to find him smiling at me. My cheeks flushed red for a moment. I said, “Um, sure. He’s getting me a Corona.”
Patrick paid for my drink and ordered one of his own. I watched him from the corner of my eye. He wasn’t drunk, but he’d had a few. He had an easy smile and he seemed more relaxed than I’d ever seen him, except in my dreams, of course. I picked up my beer and leaned against the bar to face him.
“So, do you come here often?” I asked jokingly.
“Not as often as everyone else,” he said, glancing around the room. He must have gotten the joke because he finally rolled his eyes at me. “How about you?”
“First time,” I said. I tapped a finger to my ear. The speakers above the bar were blasting out a Christmas ditty that sounded like it was recorded by a heavy metal band on speed. I yelled at him. “It’s really loud in here.”
Patrick looked around, as if he hadn’t noticed the loud music either. He held out his hand. “Come on. I know a place we can go.”
Holding hands, Patrick led me through the crowded bar. I saw Keisha’s eyebrows go up when she spotted us going by. I couldn’t help but look Christopher’s way. He was eyeing us like a cat watching two mice scurry by.
Patrick led me down a long hallway, past the only bathroom that was shared by all, and past a door that had the words PARTY ROOM scribbled across the top in permanent marker.
At the end of the hall was a metal door with an illuminated exit sign above it. Patrick pushed open the door and we stepped out into the alley behind the club. There were several rickety lawn chairs there. Patrick held onto the back of one of the chairs and invited me to sit.
“Thank you, sir,” I said, sitting down slowly because the chair felt like it might collapse at any moment. It was a cool December night, but I had on a hoodie and a belly full of beer, so I didn’t mind the cold. I sat back and took a deep breath and for the first time in a week, felt myself truly relax.