by Tiana Laveen
“It is, I just hate doing interviews.” He stifled a yawn as he slowly pivoted in the seat. “I know what I’m looking for in an employee but it takes a while sometimes to find a good match. So…what are you doing tonight besides coming over my house for a romp in the hay?”
“You are killing me, Julian. Aren’t I allowed to go to my own home anymore?” She laughed.
“Of course! But that means I’ll have to come over there then, which is fine. Am I smothering you, baby?” He grinned wider, knowing that she actually enjoyed all the attention he was giving her. The flowers that arrived at her office, the little love notes and the mysterious two-hundred dollar reimbursement that showed up in her mailbox with a short letter that read:
I was going to give you the tattoo for free, but if you blew me off and I never saw you again, I figured I better get something back for my time…
“Yes, but I like it,” she admitted, interrupting his daydreaming.
“Good. I will be getting out of here late tonight, unfortunately.” He took a deep breath and exhaled it. “But I can—”
Suddenly the phone was snatched out of his hand and a certain female made a mad dash through the salon lobby toward the front door, those damn heels clicking with all of their might.
“Angela!” he angrily cried out.
Shocked out of his mind, it finally settled in what had happened. He’d been so heavily involved in his conversation, he hadn’t seen her ass creep up on him and rob him blind. He got to his feet and went after her, bursting through the doors like a maniac out for blood. He looked from side to side, and spotted the little vixen-styled asshole a few feet away, gripping his phone as if she were dialing 911. She looked at him out the corner of her eye and slowly backed farther away, but there was nowhere for her to escape…
“Give me my goddamn phone!” He stormed towards her, his heart beating out of his chest and his temples pulsating. She started to panic, speaking faster and higher as she continued to move away from him.
“…And it’s a mess, that’s why, Milan! Please help him! The jerk won’t ask you, he has too much pride!” She sprinted off, trying to make a go of it across the street, but it was too late. He yanked her shoulder back. “Milan! You gotta tell him to—”
He snatched the phone out of her hand, causing her to yelp in pain from the way he twisted it from her tight grip.
“Ouuuu!”
Angry, he brought the phone back to his lips. “Whatever she said, Milan, ignore it.” He served Angela a withering glance.
“I most certainly will not. Matter of fact, since I am on my work phone, and my lunch break is coming up soon, I am heading over there to see what’s going on.”
“It would be a wasted trip!” He went back inside the place, feeling heated all over as anger and a bit of shame took him under its humiliating wing. Soon, panic set in. He couldn’t let this happen. “I can handle it.”
“What? Like you have been, Julian?”
“I’m serious, Milan. Don’t—”
But she cut him off, and he was listening to the dial tone. Furious, he shoved his phone in his pocket and turned around only to see Angela sitting in her chair, looking at him with a big, silly smile on her face, as if she were an innocent kitten that had gotten caught out in the rain.
“I should fire you…” he seethed, seeing red, bloody red!
She looked down at her desk, covered in a pile of tracing paper and hand-written phone messages. Reaching over the mess, she casually pulled a silver nail file from her pencil holder and proceeded to work on her black lacquered nails, clearly not giving a hot damn.
“We both know you’ll be thanking me later.”
“Don’t you ever do that again!”
Before he could lay into her even heavier, the phone rang, saving her from the verbal tongue lashing he had in store.
He debated high-tailing it out of there, knowing that Milan was on her way. No way could she make it there and back to work in a hour. On her previous visits, she would come when a meeting had let out, allowing her extra time. But not today…
Should he just accept defeat? He collapsed into his chair, leaned forward and ran nervous fingers through his hair.
She was coming. And there was nothing he could do about it…
*
“Come on…are you leaving or not?!” Milan mouthed as she waited for a space in the crowded ‘Soul Inscriptions’ parking lot. All of the street meters out front were occupied. It was lunchtime after all, and the area boasted some of the best eateries in town. Slowly but surely, the long 1980’s rusted blue Cadillac pulled out of the spot. On the sidewalk, two slick-haired young guys, seemingly oblivious to the world around them, puttered about, laughing and acting silly. Milan tapped her steering wheel impatiently, and glanced at her car time. She backed into the space, then walked to the shop, fully expecting a fight with Julian while she demanded to see his records. Smirking, she imagined having to grapple him to the ground, knowing full well she could never win a fight with him that involved pure brawn—but this was a different sort of battle all together, thus, she had a fighting chance.
She swung the door open, immediately drowning in sandalwood incense.
So much for the people with allergies…
Swinging her arm in front of her face, she chased the fragrant clouds of away. People sat in the chairs and on the beige leather couch. A large bowl of bananas set on the table in front of them, along with piles of various magazines. Across from them, a television was set on low with caution captions for some daytime court show. She looked at Julian’s seat and saw that he wasn’t in it. If she didn’t know any better, she’d bet he’d just gotten up and left once he caught wind of her.
Where is his ass? Is he with a customer in the back?
Just then, Angela nodded sneakily in her direction, then pointed to the back room, shamelessly ratting her boss out and divulging his hiding place. Milan smiled at her, and nodded back in appreciation. Holding her head high, she made her way back to the scene of the crime. She hesitated when she reached the door, her mind drifting back to the day he’d taken care of her in this same room, marked her body with sweet memories she could treasure, and opened a flood gate for a love like she’d never known. She cleared her throat, but before she could knock, Cedrick, the bane of her lover’s existence, spoke up while working on a customer.
“Ohhhhhhh, lover booooy! Your babe is here!” He cackled.
Milan decided to not pay the fool any attention and quickly rapped on the door. A few moments later, it swung open. She stepped inside and Julian swiftly closed the door behind her, as if a damn dead body lay inside and he didn’t want anyone else to see. Much to her surprise, she was greeted with a soft, sensual kiss, and after that, a table covered in neatly stacked papers. Beside it stood a bin full of what she perceived to be receipts, an open laptop showing numbers and figures in an Excel document, and two cups of what appeared to be tea, one at each seat.
“Ahhhh, you decided to bite the bullet, huh?” she teased as she grabbed his hand, bringing him back towards her, and planted another kiss on his lips.
He smiled ever so slightly and pointed to the chair. She sat, allowing him to scoot her chair in, and placed her purse on the table.
“Yes. I thought about chickening out, running out of here, but that would have been silly. I gave my customer money for lunch. He’s a regular… I asked him to give me a hour or two.”
She nodded in understanding.
“So, it’s true?” Milan picked up several papers from one stack and scanned them.
“Is what true?”
“What Angela said? That you’re in trouble…that your records are a mess and you don’t have a good way to track your transactions?”
She could see in the man’s eyes he was going through a great internal debate. Perhaps he contemplated lying about it, or maybe even downplaying it, but she thought better of that when the light went out of his eyes and his shoulders slumped. She recalled, during
one of their very first conversations, he hinted at things being overwhelming. Now, the truth had been unfolded.
“Yeah, it’s true.” He took his seat as well as a sip of his tea. He took yet another, swallowing a bit harder, as if it were hard liquor. “This isn’t my strong suit. It’s not that I couldn’t do it. I just don’t want to, and now, things have gotten out of control.”
“I see.” She picked more papers out of the pile and studied them. “Okay, let me see what system you are using.”
He nudged his computer in her direction. “This is the spreadsheet that Angela has been entering everything in.”
“But you have no actual tracking system, like Quickbooks or something of that nature?”
Milan pulled the computer even closer and pushed the down arrow. She frowned as she surveyed the situation.
“No Quickbooks. It didn’t seem very user-friendly. This way was just easier. I understand Excel.”
“But your business needs more than this, Julian.” She continued to read. “Look, right here alone.” She pointed at the computer screen. “This one week, you’ve had fourteen new customers within a three day span. You need to be able to effectively follow up with the customers, offer them promotions, discounts, all of that, so that they’ll be even more inclined to come back to you. Look, once you get used to a tracking system, it won’t seem so bad.”
“But that’s not accounting, you’re talking marketing.”
“In this case, Julian, they are one and the same. If you’re accounting record tracking improves, so will your marketing because you’ll be able to actually see who and what you are dealing with. You can target certain customers for specific promotions, thus, becoming more effective. You can even do things like send them holiday cards or birthday discounts online via a marketing promotion that also includes a 10% off coupon code for return customers. There are all sorts of things you can do that you aren’t currently doing because you are barraged with too much information that isn’t accounted for. These campaigns can work themselves; you can have Angela do it at certain intervals, it would be easy, or you could hire a marketing firm.”
Julian sighed, shoved his tea out of the way and hit his forehead on the damn table in dramatic exasperation.
Milan couldn’t help but laugh. She gently rubbed his back. “Well, at least you have someone that will set this all up for you. Give me what you have and in a few weeks, I will have everything organized and resolved. Then, I will train you and Angela on it. Deal?” She stood, took her purse and looked down at him, the pitiful thing that he was. “I want you to email me every single spreadsheet that Angela is working on by tomorrow morning. Give me some help loading this stuff to my car.”
“Where are you parked?” he mumbled, raising his head, still nursing a ‘woe is me’ expression. “If it’s far, I’ll put it all in bags and folders for you.” He sounded so sad, so she tried to not laugh. “Oh, and thank you…” he added, finally making eye contact as he got to his feet.
She took a sip of her tea and set the mug back down. She was prepared to leave, but he stood in her way, blocking her. She tried going around him, and he repeated his performance, causing them to get into an awkward dance.
“What are you doing?” She smiled.
He grabbed her around the waist, looked briefly into her eyes and kissed her, ran his lips real slow over hers,
Once…
Twice…
…and a bit more.
He pushed his tongue inside of her mouth and gripped the back of her head, his fingers spread firm and far apart across her crown. She gasped with pleasure so he kept on until he had her backed against the wall. Her purse abruptly fell from her shoulder on to the floor as he practically swallowed her whole. With urgent motions, he pulled at her blouse, lifting it up as he stared at her with a dazed, yet seductive look in his eyes. He ran his large hands roughly across her breasts until he plucked them out from their red, silky confines. Then his face disappeared between her mounds, her flesh warmed by his touch as he slicked his tongue over her erect nipples, soon engulfing them one at a time into his hot, wet mouth.
“Mmmmm….” she moaned as she ran her fingers through his hair, trying desperately to not unravel his sloppy chignon. All the while, his hands spread heat over her exposed flesh from the waist up. She gasped for air as he kept her pinned to that wall. The water cooler juddered and bubbled when he gripped the top of her black and white pinstripe pants and brushed against it. He quickly unfastened them, the zipper soon to follow. “We…can’t…do this here.” She moaned.
“Yes we can. I’m the boss.”
He undid his jeans and plunged his pants and briefs down past his ass, exposing a rigid cock aimed right at her zone. She sucked in air as she glared down at it, her pussy tightening and swelling with moisture at the sight. As if on cue, she spread her thighs, inviting him inside, and drifted into an abyss of lust. But instead of doing what she expected, Julian fell to his knees and looked at her pussy as if he were in love with it, and buried his wet mouth between her legs before she could form a coherent thought, causing her to buck against the wall. He lapped at her, squeezed her ass cheeks tight in his grip, focused diligently on her. Every so often he looked up at her with bright blue eyes, and moaned deeply into her sweetness.
“Ahhh…Oh God…” How much more could she take?
He worked his tongue from side to side, until he zoned in on her clit, completely melting her until she was no more.
“Ohhh! Ahhhh…shit!” She tried to watch her voice, for surely it carried and would draw attention, but the orgasm felt so rich and delicious, she could barely contain herself.
Obviously quite pleased with himself from his smug expression, he got to his feet, grabbed her hips and kissed her. She whimpered against his lips when he spread her legs wider and suddenly pushed upward, deeply lunging inside of her…fast, aggressive, hard and needy…
“Uhhhhh….” He moaned in her ear, his thrusts urgent as he churned into her. “Uhhhh!”
Milan threw her head back, her arms outstretched against the wall as he kept her pinned there, taking her body for his own desires and needs. It never felt so right to be so used…
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, felt the contorting muscles of his back under the fabric of his light blue shirt. His moans were music to her ears as he took her, without reservation. Who cares if I’m late to work? This is what I live for, what I crave…
“Uhhhh!” He shuddered and paused, then resumed his thrusts, keeping her so close to him, his gaze hooked with hers, hands gripping her ass cheeks and holding her up. Pelvic spasms rolled deep within her, making her feet muscles flex. He dragged his lips slowly up and down her neck as she lost more and more of her self-control. The world around her grew fuzzy…the tattoo table blurred; the small chair with the wheels seemed to be moving back and forth like a ship rocking about upon turbulent waters. The artwork slanted and she felt underwater, a mere dash upon an abstract painting.
“Ahhhhh!” Her nails dug into his neck. “Ahhhhh!”
He stifled her cries with a kiss, pressing his mouth hard against her own, swallowing her voice as he slicked his tongue between her lips, and plunged even further inside of her.
“Uhhh!”
Warm, masculine hands gripped her tighter as he anchored her just so, pushing and thrusting rapidly until he cried out…
She stood listless, her orgasm subsiding as his began.
“Uhhhh…Uh!” He squeezed her to him, a faraway look in his eyes as he poured his essence within her. She felt the tingle of his deep exhales on her hair as he slowly released her from the wall. Moments later they dressed, observing one another, their eyes yelling loud and clear, ‘We both want more…’
A soft knock sounded at the door. They both heard it, but instead of answering it, they gravitated back towards one another. His unbuttoned pants pressed into her groin, the cold, silver button pushing against her pelvis as he landed another kiss across her lips.
/>
Another knock…
“In a minute!” he called out, then turned his attention back to her. “So, do you have to leave right now?” He winked, a crooked grin on his face that betrayed his wish she’d stay a bit longer.
“You went from not wanting me to come help you, to wanting me to stay.”
“I always want you to stay…” He reached down and buttoned his pants.
“And I wish I could.” She sighed, eyeing her cell phone that lay on the table as her pussy throbbed from his recent visitation.
“Why don’t you just work here, for me?” he teased as he wrapped his arms around her waist and rubbed his nose against hers.
“Mmmm hmmm.” She smirked, begrudgingly wriggling away from his grasp. She seized her purse, trying desperately to ignore the continuous warm pulsing between her thighs.
Damn, I can still feel him inside me. It’s like he never left… Gonna be walking funny all day…
The smirk grew into a grin and though she tried to hide it, she failed. He took her by the hand and led her out of the room, letting her off the hook.
“Everyone,” he called out to his employees. All eyes lifted to him, including those of the customers. “This is Milan. She’s my girlfriend, as most of you already knew, but the news is, she is going to help me with some business matters. That means some things are about to change, for the better.”
Milan looked at him closely, and though he sounded strong and assured, she knew it took a lot for him to declare such a thing. Not the ‘girlfriend’ part—but the part where he admitted accepting her much needed assistance.
Angela stood from her chair and clapped, causing laughter and more applause.
“Yes!” the young lady exclaimed. “We are finally going to get some professionalism around here!”
“What are you tryna say?!” Julian turned and glared at her, pretending to be deeply offended. “I am a damn professional!” He pointed to his chest emphatically, a smile so wide it lit up the room.
Angela smirked and rolled her eyes, then returned to her seat to answer the phone. A few minutes later, Milan’s car was full of paperwork in tubs and bags that Angela happily helped load inside. Milan waved goodbye to both of them, and concentrated particularly on Julian in her rear view mirror.