by Jamie Knight
The Nextthing.Net offices and the Design Studio we’re partially staffed. The cliques and klatches made the environment seem suddenly alien and somehow colder despite the number of people around.
The check that Ms. Kaminski dropped off that represented her compensation from her work for iGo was tremendous. At twenty-two, she had enough money to go anywhere and start any kind of life she wanted. Adolescent dreams of settling down with Jude seemed almost ridiculous when faced with the funds and possibility.
Gazing dreamily at the bright Mondrian prints in her little room, she smiled then teared up a moment later. Maybe it was time to go home, she thought. Even if she didn’t go back with Jude, perhaps Jude would leave the city and his issues with Harlan alone.
She started to pack her things. It didn't take long. In jeans and a sweater she rolled her small carry on bag down the hall to Mahira’s door and knocked. Mahira was not in her room. Around dinner time, she could be in the cafeteria. Not interested in seeing any other people, she pulled her luggage to the elevator instead and put on her mask.
Inside the elevator, she was about to press the lobby, but waved a red card Harlan had given her over the sensor and was carried up to his lounge. The sunset streaming in made it seem lonely and wasted when she was there alone in the modern minimal space.
From her pocket she took the folded check for $200,000.00 and tucked it under the charging dock of his phone on the entertainment center, before climbing back up the four steps to the elevator. An hour later she sat in a practically empty car as the AirTrain whisked her to JFK.
The chopper was over Connecticut when Harlan got the call from Ms. Kalinski about Tory leaving. He tried her phone but got no answer. The situation with Jude Coleman did bother him slightly. The kind of girl who understands Sunday dinner, he said to himself. Maybe she was too good for an older playboy and young enough to constantly elicit comments from many. Perhaps Barry was right and he should leave the situation alone.
Arriving at the Canal Street Heliport in Stamford, Harlan rode Uberblack to his Mother’s house. Kendrick, his mother’s butler, came to the door and took Harlan’s small bag.
“The regular room. Sir?” Kendrick droned.
“That’s fine,” Harlan said.
Hearing her Bossa Nova music echoing in the living room, Harlan knew where to find his mother. When he walked in the room he was overcome. Considering herself an artist after Harlan’s father passed away, She had spent her quarantine time making dozens of colorful pastels with which she’d lined one entire wall of the living room turning it into a psychedelic space with boxes of pastels and sketches all over the coffee table and sectional sofa.
“What a Mother’s Day surprise!” She threw her arms around her son and looked at him.
“You look healthy. You want something? Kendrick! She called out.
“No, no. I can get my own whatever. Don’t bother him,” Harlan pleaded yet Kendrick appeared at the door momentarily.
“Yes Mum,” he offered.
“Get Harlan something,” Mrs. Dawes ordered. Feeling guilty about making the old character get out of his chair, Harlan asked for a cognac.
“And put it in a regular glass, Okay?!” Harlan called after him. Harlan dropped down on a clear spot on the sectional and gazed at his mother’s work.
“You seem distracted, Harley,” his mom noticed.
“I may have met someone,” he said distantly.
“Not another one on those tall stupid girls who are afraid of bread, I hope,” him mother teased.
“I think you’d hit it off. She knows her primaries from her secondaries,” Harlan remarked, a bittersweetness in his tone.
“So what the long face for,” his mother asked, absently picking up a small plastic tub of gesso to see if it was empty or not.
“I just don’t know. There was a thing. Someone she used to like. Came to my business. Made a scene. I could tell it upset her,” he said, thinking out loud.
“Why don’t you call her?” his mother asked
“I tried earlier.”
“Do it again.”
“I’m not ready to hear about whatever she chose to do just yet,” he said, “She could do almost anything she wants. She’s got enough money to get started somewhere. Job offers coming at her everyday from all over. She’s gonna be fine no matter what she does.”
“And you?”
“I’m going up to have a shower and get some sleep. Getting an electric car for you in the morning. I need to be well rested to deal with car salesmen. Goodnight, Mom,” He pecked her on the cheek and went toward the stairs.
“You are staying for dinner Sunday, right?” she called after him.
“A Sunday dinner? Of course I am.”
Epilogue
Madison, Wisconsin seemed smaller to her when she returned after her time in New York City. Her house and her room seem unreasonably small as well after living in the space of Nextthing.Net when it had been practically empty. When Jude heard that Tory had come back to Madison he had called her. Jude seemed alright at home until hearing about how she had left the iGo money behind. He’d launched a rant about the evils of big business and big business men and the surrender of freedoms the nationwide lockdowns had caused and about how she should be clinging to that cash in the perilous era to come.
When Jude told her he was going off to join the anti lockdown protests in Michigan. She had closed her eyes and ended the call. Her mother was off with a group of local women bringing meals to the quarantined elderly in the area. Her father, Harry was in the garage sipping beers and watching his old TV which was too tremendous a piece of furniture for him to get rid of.
Needing to be outdoors, she put on one of the masks from Nextthing.Net and walked the 30 minutes over to Bascom Hill to see if Bascom Hall, at the center of the University of Wisconsin’s campus, was open. She had no real agenda at Bascom Hall but welcomed the chance just to walk around the familiar Gothic styles buildings where she had spent so much of her time. On the way back, she planned to stop in the supermarket to pick up a few things to prepare for dinner on Mother’s Day.
She was trying to forget about the events of the past and focus on the future. But it was a lot harder than she’d imagined.
***
Monday morning, Harlan was feeling numb as the chopper slowly descended over the heliport atop the suite of offices and studios that made up Nextthing.Net. Mother’s day had been nice, quiet. His sister, Jane had shown up with her new husband, a Las Vegas restaurateur, who just opened a new location a month before the COVID 19 Pandemic and was not very optimistic despite that cities plans to open even before cities in nearby California.
When Jane asked him about who he was seeing, it was clear that his mother had filled her in on every detail she had managed to extricate from him about Tory, in a few brief sessions in the kitchen.
When Jane had asked where Tory was, Harlan just smiled and said, “She’s probably at her mother’s table tonight, just like you.”
With cities opening and commerce learning to cope, new work was coming in. The big network accounts, especially. Harlan spent the day on his bluetooth headset fielding calls while working out in the gym. It was dusk before he went up to the lounge to try relaxing a bit and clearing his head. When he put his phone in its base and prompted Flamma Flamma by Nicholas Lens, he noticed the folded check sticking out from beneath the unit and slowly took it up in his hand and unfolded it. He started to laugh out loud when he realized that Tory didn’t take the check. He took up the phone again and called Barry Meyerwitz. Looking worried his face appeared on the phone’s screen and then bounced to the TV as Harlan turned it on.
“So what’s the status? Ho lawyer asked.
“She didn't take the check, Barry,”
“Not enough? What? She wants more?”
“Don't you see what this means?”
“No.”
“She’s not starting a new life somewhere,”
“How do you know?”
“I uh..”
“Who's the lawyer?” Barry prompted him.
“I know you’re the lawyer. Mr. Mouthpiece but I think it means something. She didn't have to leave it here for me to find. She could have ripped it up, given it to Jillian. Payroll is open. She could have done anything!”
“As your lawyer I advise you to leave this situation alone. Do the right thing for a change.
”Yeah, Barry. You’re right. The right thing. I should just do the right thing.”
In their kitchen, Victoria and her mother, Linda cooked. Potatoes were boiling for mashed. Her mother battered and breaded chicken parts as Tory carefully sank the pieces in the hot oil to fry then placed the cooked meat on a plate covered in paper towels to blot up excess oil. Not having a genuine plan she was content to help her Mom and didn’t mind the idea of spending time with her and the elders of her community who had always been there for her growing up.
Her mother had known that the crisis in the country had surely changed Tory. She was proud to see her holding it together instead of struggling and complaining about petty personal problems in the midst of the pandemic like so many young people she saw on the news. She was a levelheaded girl who always seemed to find the time to hear another’s problems before considering or even airing her own.
Having heard from the Coleman’s about Jude breaking quarantine, and having had to listen to his concerns several times on the phone, before and after the fact, her mother knew everything. She saw Victoria practically hovering about the house as she had years ago like a child on Christmas Eve, a glow with the belief that there might still be magic in the world. She knew her daughter was a woman in love.
The roar of a new Ducati’s engine on her hometown street as the motorcycle passed by outside was as alien as the sleek looking highly polished black cycle she saw turning around at the end of her block. Tory had absently walked out the kitchen door and into the street in an apron without saying a word.
She ran back into the kitchen but didn't see her mother. “Mom!” she called out. Her mother came from the foyer with Tory’s light blue suede jacket in hand.
“I….” she started, smiling, “I’m, I need to talk to someone,” she said, slipping out of the apron. The motorcycle had stopped outside, engine purring in neutral.
“Just let me know when you get to wherever it is you’re going,” her mother remarked, sounding quite folksy.
“I love you, Mom,” she whispered as they hugged.
Outside, Harlan sat on his newest toy, purchased at the closest dealership to the airport, looking at his phone.
“What are you doing out here on that thing?” she called to be heard over the motor as she approached.
“I’ve got this great new App. It lets you make plans with someone, for today, for tomorrow and forever. They called it E LOPE. Wanna try it out, with me?” He suggested, looking directly into her eyes. She straddled the vibrating machine between his legs facing him and said
“I bet the icon is black on black on black on-”
They kissed for the longest time.
THE END
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Sneak Peek of Under My Boss’s Orders
The first collection in the Under Him series is Under My Boss’s Orders, which contains Under Lockdown, Under Strict Orders and Under the Hawaiian Sun.
Click here to read it.
Macy
Day 1 of Lockdown
Opportunities can come at the strangest of times and in the oddest of ways. Like when I somehow landed a plumb job as a paralegal at one of the biggest law firms not only the city but the state – one of the few multi-billion dollar law firms going.
Not that it was a cold corporate culture. The firm itself, a family affair run by siblings Mel and Jim White, was housed in a red brick heritage building with an on-site coffee shop. The atmosphere was not quite the ping-pong court and arcade games in the break room like I had heard about at graphic design firms, but it was still hardly the draconian hell I had heard tell about at many of the surrounding office towers.
I just thanked my lucky stars that the firm didn’t really have a dress code and I didn’t have to wear high heels every day. The damn things played merry hell on my ankles, especially when I had to walk to the building every day from my car.
There were legends going around that the firm kept a few spots in a nearby parking garage but the bestowment of one of the them was subject to great mystery. Three of the spots were reserved for the firm’s partners.
Finding a rare and precious road spot, no doubt due to the social distancing orders that the city had put in place due to the Coronavirus, I went in for an a extra shift. I needed the money and didn’t mind the work.
It wasn’t like I had a hot date. Or any date. My confidence was pretty shaken since my ex dumped me. According to him, I was boring because I didn’t like going to clubs and dropping party drugs. He had already done so much ecstasy in his time it was a wonder he could still be so mean.
My boss was a big shot lawyer at the firm. Not a partner but well on his way. At least according to the office gossip. He was so handsome it was hard to keep my eyes off him, which was something that lead to a few accidents my first couple of days there. Nothing too serious. I wasn’t falling down stairs or anything, but I did drop a lot of papers, giving the male staff some very good looks at my ass.
A few of them were actually caught looking at it. It was a bit embarrassing because I was shy but still made me feel pretty good. I was still a virgin and couldn’t see how any guy would be interested in me. I was surprised but excited when this theory was proven wrong.
Despite being a virgin, I was still really horny, fantasizing a lot about what it would be like to lose my virginity whenever I got the opportunity. I wasn’t really saving myself either. I would love to have sex if I could find the right guy.
The building was eerily quiet. Even the second floor reception desk was empty, standing like a dark, lonely island in the ocean of the lobby. I’d taken the stairs up, having had an aversion to elevators since getting stuck in one during a black out. Some might call it a phobia but that term describes an irrational fear of something not generally thought to be dangerous, like balloons or the dark. And elevators were definitely dangerous.
I found Paul in his office going over some pleadings. His tailored suit jacket was hanging on the back of the chair, revealing his black suspenders against his crisp white shirt. He could come off as a bit cold sometimes, but it was easy to admire his dedication to his job. He seemed to really believe in what he was doing and in seeing that justice was done.
He had all the signs of the new rich, but I could tell that it wasn’t about the money to him, not really. That was more of an added bonus for doing his job so well, which seemed fair enough to me. Especially since he gave a lot to charity – hospital funds and the like.
“Macy, thanks for coming in,” he said, not looking up from the legal texts.
“You’re welcome,” I said, leaving out the fact that I really didn’t have anything better to do.
“Everyone is so worried about this Corona thing. I think we might be the only ones here.”
“You’re not scared?” I asked, sitting down across from him.
“Sure I am. I’m not a fool. But I also have far too much work to do to take time off. This case is a tough one and I need as much research on it as I can get.”
“I see.”
Another reason that I didn’t mind coming into work was that he was a huge hunk. All the women at t
he office had a crush on him. Even the ones who were already spoken for. Not that they would do anything, of course, or that he would let them if they wanted to. Not only was he far too busy to have any kind of fling, but he was also too moral to do anything with a colleague’s wife or girlfriend.
Only a single woman would ever have had a chance with him. And I happened to be one of those, like it or not. I felt lucky to have the opportunity to work for him, which many other women around here would die for.
“Take down the following notes,” he said, finally looking at me.
I might have been imagining it but I could have sworn he was checking me out. He was scanning my body up and down, undressing me with his eyes. I hadn’t really dressed any more sexy that night than I usually did. Though that didn’t matter too much.
I was built in such a way as to always come across as provocative. My hips just naturally wiggled when I walked and I couldn’t wear a button up shirt without the cloth parting near my boobs since they were so damn big. Even my ass tended to stretch the material of the skirts I wore. I blushed from the attention, welcome and perplexing as it might have been.
I got out my pad and pen, preparing to take down notes of his instructions, but my mind was spinning with everything I would like him to do to me. Despite my virginity, I had always been pretty kinky in my fantasies.
I liked the idea of being dominated and most of my fantasies revolved around being completely submissive to a strong and experienced man as he had his way with me. Fucking me in every hole. Particularly my ass.
I blushed just thinking about it: Paul’s big, thick cock pounding into my tight little virgin pussy as I lay tied up and prone under him, loving every second of it.
It was just a fantasy, though, I reminded myself.
But as I caught him looking at me again as he rattled off a list of legal cases he wanted me to look into, I couldn’t help but hope that maybe it could come true.