Safeword: Quinacridone

by Candace Blevins

  Shaking his head, Travis said, “No, I won’t fuck or use anyone else. I need Cara to know she’s important, and part of the way I’ll show her is by fucking only her. The other men didn’t see her as a person, just something to screw. I need to make sure she sees me as different than...the others.”

  “I see. It makes sense, and your intuition’s probably right on this one. Okay then, two separate couples, with no switching? Hmmmm, let me think a moment.”

  “There’s nothing to say the two of us can’t objectify Cara together, and if you want to use her, that’ll play into her kinks. I just don’t want to have sex with anyone else.”

  Paul’s face broke into an evil smile. “What if we objectify the two of them together? We could create a tableau of the pair, something to objectify Cara and debase Meg, and cover both kinks with one fell swoop.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Cara sat at the conference room table and used the pointer to review the presentation and refresh her memory. Travis had hired two graphics designers from a local firm that’d gone out of business, and Cara and Timothy were supposed to bring the new people up to speed on the project so they could hit the ground running. However, Timothy had called to tell her he was caught in traffic and she’d have to start without him.

  The interstate was apparently a parking lot, with a jackknifed truck blocking all lanes in one direction. She’d hoped the women were in the same gridlock, but they were coming from the north and would arrive on time.

  Nervous, she reset the presentation to the beginning and walked into the alcove to grab a bottle of water. The conference room door opened and closed, and she was about to step into the room and introduce herself when she heard two women talking.

  “I’m not so sure, Connie,” said a woman in what Cara thought might be a Russian accent. “I mean, Travis Winslow doesn’t seem the kind of man who’d give someone a job because she was screwing him.”

  “Maybe not just for fucking him, but who knows what kinky stuff he makes her do? If I’d known I’d have to work under a bitch with no clue what she’s doing and only has the job ‘cause she’s boning the boss, I’d have turned down the position. But now, if I quit, how will it look on my resume? I’m stuck, dammit all.”

  “Just give her a chance. Travis Winslow seems too business savvy to put someone incompetent in charge.”

  Cara didn’t know what to do. The only way out of the alcove was back into the conference room, but she didn’t want them to realize she’d heard their conversation. Timothy was still ten or fifteen minutes away, so she’d have to think of something.

  She briefly considered stepping into the room and confronting them. Travis would likely back her if she fired them, even though technically she was sure she didn’t have the authority; but she’d also seen their work and knew they were good, and could be an asset to the project.

  What would she say if she confronted them? That Timothy had hired her before she’d started dating Travis? That Timothy was in charge and they’d report to him, not her?

  Unhappy with everything she could think of to say, she silenced her phone and texted Tricia. Please meet the 2 new ppl in the conference room and show them the restroom & break room — tell them us girls have to stick together or... whatever, just make it not seem odd.

  She hit send and tapped: Please. Will explain later.

  Tricia texted back a quick Sure, and less than a minute later stuck her head in the door, introduced herself, and whisked the two of them away.

  They were only gone a few minutes and Cara was seated at the conference table when they returned. She smiled and said, “Tricia! I’m glad you’re here, Timothy’s running late — want to help me bring these two up to speed?”

  “Sure, but I’m wondering why neither Travis or Timothy felt it necessary to mention the two new people are women. Until you came along I was the only female on this end of the building, now there’ll be four of us.”

  Cara laughed. “You forget I don’t have my own office, it’s just the three of you.”

  “Oh, don’t kid yourself, the one you’ve been using is yours and you may as well bring stuff in to personalize it. They’ve set up another guest office for visiting consultants.” Without giving Cara a chance to respond, she rushed into introductions. “Petra and Connie, this is Cara Jamieson. She’s a kick-ass artist and gives us great images to work with. Sometimes I think she and Travis can see into each other’s imaginations, so she’s the one to ask if you aren’t clear on how best to bring a concept to life.”

  Cara would have to ask about the office later, but not in front of the new people. She waved at the chairs and said, “Please, have a seat and get comfortable. Timothy was caught in traffic so I’ll get us started. I understand one of you is especially skilled with animation?”

  Connie nodded and gestured to the other woman. “That’d be Petra. She has mad skilz. My animation talents lie more in filming a person doing an activity and mapping the movements to the CGI character.”

  “Well, welcome to the group.” Cara smiled. “I’m told both of you’ve signed the necessary non-disclosure paperwork, so it’s time to tell you about the project.”

  Cara began the presentation and asked Tricia for input several times. She wasn’t sure why, but it felt important she make friends with these woman. She didn’t want them to think of her as the idiot bitch fucking the boss, but wanted them to see someone who knew what she was doing and who had her job because she’s good, not because she’s doing kinky stuff with the owner of the company.

  When Timothy finally arrived she tried to hand him the pointer but he insisted she finish since she’d started, and he mostly sat and listened, only offering input when Cara asked him for it.

  Timothy called the rest of the team in for a meeting once he felt the two were caught up, and they had their regular weekly status update and brainstorming session. Cara was thankful Travis sat across the table from her and kept things businesslike without treating her different from anyone else.

  When the meetings were finally over Cara found herself not-so-subtly dragged back to Tricia’s office, with the door firmly closing them in.

  “Okay, spill,” said Tricia, her arms folded over her chest as if she knew Cara would want to pretend nothing had happened.

  The two had become good work friends, and Cara sighed and fell backwards into one of the huge-assed beanbags Tricia chose instead of the loveseat in most offices on this end of the building. “It’s nothing, really. I was getting a bottle of water when they came in, so they didn’t realize I was there, and they were speculating about me. I just figured it’d be best if they didn’t know I heard them.”

  Tricia dropped her arms and scowled. “Speculating? What do you mean? What’d they say?”

  “Can’t we just skip this? It’s not important, really.”

  “I disagree. The company works so well because we all get along. I never wondered if you knew what you were doing, and was never jealous of or threatened by you, even when it came out you were dating Travis. I liked Petra, wasn’t so sure about Connie, but figured she’s probably nervous and overwhelmed so I’d give her some time. The last thing we need is two catty bitches screwing up how great we all work together. Tell me what they said so I can help keep an eye on things. I’ve got your back, you know that, right?”

  Cara sighed. “It wasn’t the two of them. Connie said she didn’t know she’d have to report to me, and if she’d known she’d be under someone who didn’t know what they were doing and only got the job ‘cause they were screwing the boss, she wouldn’t have accepted the position.” She shrugged. “Petra told her to give me a chance.”

  Tricia rolled her eyes and looked exasperated. “That’s why you kept trying to downplay your role. Shit Cara, it wouldn’t hurt you to stick up for yourself. I’m pissed off on your behalf, and I’m sure Travis would fire her on the spot if he knew what she said.”

  “Don’t tell him!” Cara said it louder than she meant, and lowered
her voice to continue. “They’re both very good and I don’t want it my fault we don’t have their talents.”

  Tricia crossed her arms again. “Did you know they were women? When you reviewed their work, were there any names attached?”

  Cara shook her head and Tricia said, “What’s up with that? I saw a bunch of examples but the files were labeled as numbers — no names.”

  Happy to change the conversation, Cara said, “Travis and Timothy thought it odd they picked the two women, and worried they were trying to balance things out in their subconscious. They removed anything that might identify gender from the portfolios, questionnaires, and resumes; and numbered each person so we could keep them straight. Think about it, if you’d known there were ten males and two females, wouldn’t you’ve second guessed your choice if you’d picked the two women?”

  Tricia sighed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ve no idea if they’re who I recommended or not, but I know Timothy and Travis took our opinions into consideration when making their final decision.” She tapped the leg of her desk a few times with the toe of her scuffed black army boot and looked up, her voice solemn. “I’m not promising to keep my mouth shut about this. I’m not planning to immediately blab, but if I see any issues with Connie I’ll have a talk with Timothy.”

  “Dammit Trish, if there’s any chance Travis might find out later I need to tell him now.” She rolled her eyes at Tricia’s pointed look. “I wasn’t planning to lie but I hoped I could just...not tell him.”

  Tricia dropped onto the other gigantic beanbag, facing Cara. “I have a feeling ya’ll don’t keep much from each other.”

  Cara shook her head. “No, we talk about pretty much everything. I don’t know how to tell him about this, though. He’s so damned protective of me and I don’t think this should get Connie immediately fired.”

  “Yeah, this is a tough one. It’s not the kind of thing you’d take to a boss under normal circumstances, but it’s the sort of thing a boyfriend will expect to be told about.”

  “Do you think it’s wrong for me to work here? I’ve let Travis convince me we could manage without it getting weird, but—”

  Her cell phone rang and she dug it from her pocket. It was Travis, of course.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m in Tricia’s office. What’s up?”

  “I’m just down the hall; be there in a sec.”

  He clicked off and she dropped her phone into her lap, sighing as she said, “He’s coming.”

  “What’re you gonna do?”

  She shook her head, shrugged. “Tell him, and hope he doesn’t overreact?”

  The door echoed two soft knocks and opened. Travis stuck his head in first, then stepped in, leaving the door open but stopping a few steps into the room, considering. He looked at Cara, then Tricia, and turned to close the door.

  “Since I’m in Tricia’s office I think it’s appropriate to borrow her terminology.” He leaned back against her desk, propping a hip on it, both hands braced over the edge. “Spill.”

  Tricia turned to Cara and said, “I’ve never seen him as needing a flogger before, but that pose just begs for leather, doesn’t it?”

  Cara’s eyes goggled and she didn’t know how to respond. Travis saved her by chuckling and saying, “Funny, I never pictured you as thinking men standing over you should have a whip in their hands, so I guess we’re even. Now stop trying to stall for your friend and one of you tell me what’s going on.”

  Tricia cocked her head in question at Cara, who responded with, “This’d be easier if you had normal chairs so he wasn’t towering over us.” She shifted to look up at Travis again. “The hell with it, Tricia knows we’re together and isn’t weirded out, come down here with us and I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to overreact.”

  Travis took a few seconds to deliberate before squeezing beside her and maneuvering the two of them so she was sitting in front of him, leaning against his chest with his arms around her. “No promises my version of not overreacting will fit your definition, but I’ll make the attempt. Now, tell me Cara Mia.”

  “It’s not that big of a deal. I was getting a bottle of water when Petra and Connie stepped into the conference room, so they didn’t see me, and I overheard them — well, one of them — speculating about me. I wanted to avoid the awkwardness of letting them know I heard, so I texted Trish to please show them the break room and restroom.

  “Speculating? Let me guess...Connie? I picked up on a weird vibe from her, almost as if she were dismissing your opinion without giving it consideration when we discussed how to best animate some of your textures.

  “Yeah, I caught that too,” said Tricia, “but you’re smart enough to know you can’t fire someone for being mean to your girlfriend, right? If Connie’s shit-for-brains attitude causes problems in the team dynamic, that’s different, but—”

  Travis interrupted. “But I’ll send the message that everyone has to treat Cara with kid gloves if I get rid of Connie at this point?” He arched his brow menacingly for a brief moment, then rolled his eyes and relaxed, giving a half grin as he said, “I respect your ability to cut through the crap and say what’s important, even when it annoys me. You’re right, of course. What advice did you give Cara?”

  “I told her I’d keep my eye on Connie and if I think she’s a catty bitch I’ll have a talk with Timothy about protecting our great team dynamic. One of the best things about working here is the laid-back atmosphere. There’s no backstabbing, no competition that involves making other people look bad so you’ll look better.” She glanced at Cara and back up to Travis. “If I make someone else look good, it reflects on me. There’s none of the Survivor bullshit where people plot against each other. If Connie’s not a team player, we don’t need her — I don’t care what kind of skilz she may have.”

  “Cara, what do you think?”

  She rotated her upper body, twisting to look at him. “I don’t want her fired or moved for speculating about me when she didn’t think anyone would hear. If she can’t handle the team stuff then make whatever decision you feel appropriate, but base it on how she interacts with everyone, not on her saying shit about me.”

  “Okay, sounds reasonable.” He smiled. “Now that I haven’t overreacted, will you tell me what she said?”

  Cara turned back to Tricia, closing her eyes and groaning as she leaned her head against his chest. “It’s not important, but if I don’t tell you it’ll bug you and you’ll imagine worse than she said.” She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “She was assuming I wasn’t any good, and had the job only because of our relationship. I guess the idea I’d be over her especially rankled. Petra told her to give me a chance. Really, it’s not a big deal and probably normal for people who don’t know us to assume. When Timothy texted directions to the conference room he likely said I’d be bringing them up to speed, which must have given the impression I was in charge and set off Connie’s hackles. She knows I’m not at the helm now, so it’s all good, right?”

  Tricia cocked her head to the side. “I’m willing to give her a chance, but I’m not convinced it’s all good. I respect your talent, and defer to your expertise when I’m coding your stuff into my gui. I can make the computer program do a zillion things but I trust you to tell me when I need to make a change. Like that stupid shadow thing last week, I knew something was off but couldn’t figure it out. After a half-second glance you explained the problem and how to fix it. We all know each other’s strong suits and we almost always defer to that person’s opinion. I’m not confident she’s gonna play nice.”

  * * * *

  Cara followed Travis home, dreading the conversation when they arrived. Much to her surprise, he didn’t mention it again. When she finally brought it up over steaks and a bottle of wine he seemed at peace with waiting to see what happened, saying, “The Connie situation will take care of itself. Tricia and Timothy are both aware which should keep her from trying to undercut you and make you look
bad to the rest of the team. If she tries it’ll only make her look stupid and it’ll be the end of her in this building. I’ll need to decide if she’s good enough for me to place her at another company where teamwork isn’t essential, or whether I’m comfortable with her working for the competition, but the decision doesn’t have to be made today. I have a proposition for you, for this weekend, if you’re interested.”

  It’d been a month since New York, and while they’d had sex and played around a little, they hadn’t done anything intense and Cara was beginning to itch for it. “Yeah, I’m interested. I was starting to wonder if something happened at the Bed and Breakfast that made you not want me, like that, anymore.”

  “Never, Cara. I want you more than ever, but I’ll admit to some soul searching.” He lifted his wineglass, but didn’t take a drink, as if uncertain what to do with his hands. “I love you so much, and sometimes those feelings make me feel like a teenager again, unsure of what happens next.”

  “What did I do?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not anything you did, it’s just the idea of...” he sighed, set the wine glass down, and reached for her hand. “I want to grow old with you and that means spending decades together. We’re moving pretty fast, which I love, but it made me wonder where we’ll be ten or twenty years from now. Will we be like the boiling frog and not realize we’ve gone too far because we’ve made each new step seem acceptable? How will we continue to push the envelope with objectification and not mess up what we have the rest of the time?”

  Cara’s stomach dropped to her knees and her shoulders slumped as she looked at her plate. “I shouldn’t have said I was turned on by the whole peeing thing.”

  “Oh no, I’m glad you told me, this will only work if we’re both honest about our desires.”

  Her heart dropped into her stomach as she remembered him telling her what he wanted, and her inability to satisfy his needs. He hadn’t dared to tell her anything since, and it bothered her. She looked up. “You haven’t told me what you want. I mean, not since you tried the thing with Jonathan. Sometimes it feels as if I tell you what turns me on and you make it happen, but you aren’t telling me what you want. I don’t want to be the one driving the bus all the time; I want you doing things to me that flip your switch.”