by Eden Rose
There’s a look on her face that I know too well. It’s a look that I give often when I know I have everything figured out and someone is about to mess up something big. “Please follow me.” Her sugary voice is only subdued by her cold words.
I follow behind her with my eyes permanently attached to her ass. They are juicy globes of hot fucking flesh and my mouth waters at the thought of taking a bite. Suddenly, I have hit something hard and when I open my eyes, I know that I have walked straight into the woman.
Her flesh is hot, I can see the little hairs on the back of her neck stand up. I affect her! That’s fucking awesome. She looks back at me and her perfect D.S.L., Dick Sucking Lips, they are pouty, and she has a smile across her face.
“Please remove yourself from my ass. You are poking me.”
Horrified, I jump back and groan a little. She has me so hard that I am about to break through my pants and through her clothes… and she knows it too.
Suddenly, the unsatisfying sex that I had earlier comes to mind. I know what I have been missing and it’s her. I have been missing Ms. McGrace and I’m planning on rectifying that as soon as possible.
She continues to walk through the door, I take a look at her office. Her walls are painted a deep tan color and the wood is a rich red wood that looks dominating. Fuck. Everything about this woman is dominating and I can’t help the magnetism that I have towards her.
Why?
I have no idea.
I want to touch her. Feel her skin against mine and all of that other creepy stalker shit that women don’t want to hear about.
“Is Mr. McGrace joining us today?” I ask as I follow behind her. She continues to walk towards the huge fucking desk that is taking up a quarter of the office.
The idea of bending her over the desk is appealing, and I can’t help but fold my hands in front of my pants in order to keep me from embarrassing myself even more.
Paul is going to surely shit can me.
Ms. McGrace takes a seat behind the desk and I can see that she’s crossed her legs once she’s sat. “Please take a seat,” she gestures towards a chair in front of her. “Now, please tell me about yourself.”
Taken aback by her ability to ignore me with skill, I rebuff and then continue. “I’m a chef and I have cooked my whole life. I work for Paul at Professional Party Planners here, in Detroit. Uh…”
“No, I don’t want some rinsed and recycled speech. If you are going to work for me, I need to know everything about you. What makes you tick? What makes you burn with passion? What makes you different than the man that sat in the chair you are in twenty minutes ago?”
I almost swallow my tongue. What the actual fuck. “Uh. Ms. McGrace. I thought Mr. McGrace was supposed to be here.”
She waves her red fingered hand in the air effectively dismissing me from the office. “Get out.”
Wait. What just happened? “Ms. McGrace, I didn’t mean to offend you. May I ask what I did to make you so upset?”
I watch her shake her head and then look up at the ceiling. When her green eyes are focused on me, I see something that I didn’t expect to see. This woman really isn’t affected by me. “You have bored me. Come back when you have something for me. Something that I need. I don’t need another cook that will cook something mediocre. I need a chef who will create masterpieces and all I see is some prosaic man playing dress up in a chef costume.”
What the fuck?
I gather all of my stuff and exit the room before I can say anything more to embarrass myself. She really just dismissed me. I can’t believe it.
Paul is going to fire me, this I know and now… I’m never going to get hired full time.
By the time I get home, I’m thinking about all of the career websites I can check out in order to post my resume on. Damn it, I can’t lose another job. My roommate is already threatening to move me out if I can’t take care of my part of the rent.
I’m even rooming with my brother. What does that tell you? That my own brother is threatening to kick me out because I haven’t paid rent in over four months.
Sighing, I pick up my borrowed computer. It’s Mitch’s but I still use it. I don’t know if he cares that I do but I don’t think he even notices that I use it. I look on websites for about two hours and search for something. Anything. Hell, I will take a job in a fast food restaurant right now. I’m that desperate.
My phone rings next to me and it’s Paul. I groan and have an internal battle of answering or not. On the fourth ring, I decide I need to nut up, and answer. “Hey, Paul.”
“Mason, I swear to fucking God, that you better have a good reason as to what happened today in Lucian’s office. She just called me and handed me my severed dick on a platter. What did you do?”
Wait a fucking minute. “The girl I interviewed with was Lucian?” I thought Lucian was a guy. No wonder she hated me on the spot.
“Who else would have interviewed you?” Paul’s grouchy voice comes through over the line. “I’m so fucking pissed at you. If you don’t fix this, you will be searching for a different job. Do I make myself clear? Get this job back from Lucian or you’re out on your ass.”
Click.
Chapter 2
Lucian
I wish I could say that was the first time someone thought I was actually a man. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time today. People need to broaden their horizons, or they are going to live some boring ass lives.
I’m a woman. I have a 32 D size chest and a freshly waxed pussy to prove it to you. But if you touch my pussy or my tits, I will make you a head shorter.
Paul has been giving me excuses for the past ten minutes as to why that fuckwit wasn’t prepared. “Mason is new to the company. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say. This contract means everything to me…”
“Listen, Paul, I really don’t care about your excuses of your ineptitude of hiring little boys. What I do care about is you making a mockery of my business by sending me someone who is less than adequate. Good bye.”
When I hang up with him, I rub my temples. Shit. I needed to get a chef into those private rooms like three months ago. The problem is people are not trustworthy nor do they understand confidentiality. I can’t have some kid in there telling all of his friends about the wild parties.
I groan and pick up my phone off the desk. Swiping and entering in my password, I click on Raul’s name in the contacts.
“Tell me something good, Luca.”
“I need a chef. Find me one.”
He lets out a deep breath. “Quit being so hard on these assholes and we wouldn’t need to keep hiring more.”
Rolling my eyes and fighting the urge to give Raul a tongue lashing through the phone, I decide to ignore him. After Big Heavy of the 3-1-3 Gang, decided they needed to branch out into different markets, I got promoted into owning this club. I own everything about this club, but I still have to pay my dues to Big Heavy.
Everyone pays their dues to Big Heavy. No matter where you turn, Ralf, shot-caller of the gang, lieutenants are watching you. Big Heavy is the ultimate enforcers the gang has, they will stop at nothing to collect what is owed to them.
Imagine my surprise when I came across Raul when Ralf tried to get me to sleep with him after I was jumped into the gang. He stood there watching the exchange with a disgusted look on his face and when I approached him, he promised me he would help me in anyway.
Raul was the one that found me and showed me the ropes. I’m not saying he’s my savior or anything, because that’s just fucking crazy. There is nothing about him that is saintly. I’m just saying he is the main reason why I am here today.
“You know as well as I do, we can’t just have anybody in those rooms. We need someone we can trust. There are things that happen in there that can get us shut down,” I try to reason with him.
“Ms. McGrace,” Trina says over my intercom.
“Hold on, Raul.” I put my phone down and click the intercom button. “What?”
Like the word food is some type of siren, my stomach starts to growl. “Take him into the conference room and I will be there in exactly seven minutes. Remind him that I don’t want my time wasted and if that is what he is here to do, tell him to leave.”
I remove my finger from the intercom button and pick up my phone again. “Hey, I have to call you back.” I hang up on him before he can ask why I need to get off the phone.
Rolling my chair away from my desk, I walk over to my cabinet to the side of my office. Pulling open a drawer, I grab a granola bar and unwrap it. My lips close over the chocolate and oat and I catch myself moaning a little.
There are several things that have dubbed me the Ice Queen. I don’t eat in public. I think it’s incredibly annoying having people watch me while I eat, I don’t like the vulnerability of it. Another, I do not make any rash business decisions. Many people have called me a robot because I don’t let my emotions get involved.
One of the major fucking problems about being a woman in this job and why we aren’t respected, is the fact we are considered to be too emotional. We act on emotions instead of facts. I’m not like normal women who are going to cry if my nails get broken.
I am, on the other hand, the type of woman who is doing all the running of the cocaine from Chicago, up through Detroit, and then to Canada. Many people don’t expect a woman to be pedaling the powder across the lines, but I love it. I love the power of being an unsuspected woman in this field.
They will always expect Raul or Ralf over me.
I make sure that all my gang tattoos that are on my arms are covered. One of the most important things about interviewing a new chef, I cannot let them know who I am. If I let them know that I’m the Queenpin behind the smuggling, they will either ask for more money or rat on me.
Speaking of which, I need to make sure Raul is ready to find me a new driver. I need to get my money from these mother fuckers so I can buy cocaine for the next shipment of shit.
Also, the amount of food I have poisoned or have watched get poisoned will make you never want to eat in public again. The only time it’s appropriate is if you have a food tester with you and that’s not very common.
As of today’s date, I have had four attempts on my life that we have stopped before they’ve succeeded. Two involved food. Those fucking assholes are being eaten by worms at the moment.
Being a woman and in business is difficult. We are constantly looked at as if we are about to cry or something. Which is total bullshit. I can count on one hand the times that I have actually cried, I will still have some spare fingers.
I take a sip of water from a bottle I left resting on the cabinet and then bend over to reach in again. I grab a mint and pop it before walking to the bathroom to make sure I don’t have chocolate on my face.
When I look in the mirror, I am proud of what I see. I have come a long way from that “gangster girl” from the wrong side of the tracks. My auburn hair is tucked neatly in a pony and my makeup still looks fresh. The blue bags under my eyes are pissing me off though.
I’m so wound tightly that I need something to take the edge off of me. It’s been way longer than I care to admit, but I’m hoping sometime soon I can change that.
Maybe I should have Trina start looking for someone for me.
Without further delay, I walk out of my office to go to the conference room. Before I leave my office, I notice a piece of paper sticking to the window. It’s a weird month for Detroit and it’s not as warm as it normally is so I have my window open for the breeze to come in. I walk over to the piece of paper and snatch it up.
Lucian,
All of this could be taken away. Do not ignore me!
God damn it! Big Heavy is now coming to my work? Fuck!
The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up and I can’t help but shiver. I ball the note into my hand and throw it against the wall. I know who it is. It’s the same people every time. The threats aren’t empty, but they aren’t carried out in the traditional way.
I look at it on the ground, reach over and pick it up. I don’t want Trina, my secretary to come across it and start asking me questions I can’t answer.
I don’t think about it as I slip it on my desk to worry about later. They will still be wanting more money later as it is. They thought I was going to flop with running The Venetian and that’s why they gave it to me. What they didn’t put into perspective, is the fact I’m very persuasive.
Everyone wants something more than what they are getting at home and that’s what I offer in the upstairs rooms. I offer more than their little sinful hearts could handle and that’s what keeps them coming back for more.
I need to talk to Raul about this. He will want to know about the notes and I’m sure his twisted mind will have a way to take care of them.
When I get there, I can smell Mexican food and my stomach once again grumbles at me for not eating more than a granola bar. The guy from earlier is wearing a dress shirt with the first three buttons undone and he looks mighty proud of himself.
I let myself take him in. I like black on blond guys and I like that his hair is long and tucked into one of those man buns. His blue eyes are shining behind some thick framed glasses and his full lips are puckered slightly. What I don’t like is his presumptuous behavior.
“And you are back because?” I question standing tall.
He takes a deep breath and picks up a plate off the table. I see that the plate is already full, and I snicker at this. He thinks he can play a game with me. All right. Game on.
I watch as he extends the plate towards me and when I don’t take it, I notice the hurt look on his face. “I really don’t have the time to be playing these games. Why are you here? It’s a simple question. If you can’t answer it, then get the fuck out.” I speak clear and concise so there is no way that he could have misheard me.
The guy clears his throat and then says, “Ms. McGrace, you don’t know what you are missing out on. Taste what only I could give you.”
Not going to lie, I didn’t expect him to be so blunt. “And what is it that you can give me? A headache? Because you are doing that pretty well.”
And making my pussy wet.
Just sayin’.
With us still standing with the table between us, I take a seat at the front of the table and cross my legs. I swear, he better spit it out. He places the plate of food in front of me with a fork and knife.
“You expect me to eat this?” I question even though I want to. It smells delicious and it’s been a long time since I had Mexican food.
“How else are you supposed to taste what only I can give you, Ms. McGrace.”
With the lion strength, I don’t correct him and make him call me by my proper title. I don’t eat the food. Instead, I look at him and then tilt my head as if considering his offer. “There might be a chance that you assure me. Meet me tonight in the lobby at ten.”
With that, I get out of my seat and walk back to the door. “Trina will be waiting for you at the door with an NDA. Please have that signed before you come back tonight as I won’t let you in without it.”
Chapter 3
Mason
Did I seriously just get the job? I’m in fucking shock. I have no idea what just happened or why she hired me without even tasting my food.
As I clean up my mess and box the food, I have a sudden feeling that shit is about to change dramatically. Am I cooking tonight? What is going on? I’m so confused.
By the time I leave the room, I have my food boxed and I already have it in my mind to take it to the homeless shelter. Well, I should say my new home if I don’t get this position to last.
Trina is waiting for me at the edge of the doorway with an envelope. “Please have this signed before you come back.” Her words are meant to be business-like, but they sound as if she purred them.
“Yeah, thanks,” I pour on a little charm and watch as she saun
ters away from me.
As I walk through the hall, I pass Lucian’s office. I notice that there is a large Latino man leaning against her desk and has his hands on her shoulder. I’m a fucking dumbass for thinking she was attractive. I mean, the woman has a body that was built for sex. Trina has a body that is built for a teenage boy who just looked at his dad’s Playboy.
I like my women… women.
Before I realize that I have been staring at Lucian for an awkward amount of time, her friend addresses me. “Yo, you got a problem?” He growls and looks at me with hate in his eyes.
“Raul, it’s okay. He’s the temporary cook for tonight. You will meet him at the party. Shouldn’t you be going home now?” She directs the question to me, I fight the urge to salute her.
I nod and walk fast away. What the fuck is happening to me? Why am I allowing this woman so much power over me? It doesn’t make any sense. There is something about Lucian that makes me want to please her. Fuck, I need to please her for some reason. It’s driving me crazy.
Just like with that bar skank last night, when she started to boss me around, I couldn’t move quick enough to please her, obey her. Am I losing my edge? When did I become some weak pussy who can't even stand up to a woman?
Criticizing myself on my walk towards the homeless shelter, I begin to formulate a plan to get Lucian out of my mind. I’m just going to have to ignore her at all costs. It’s obvious that she’s one tough broad but she’s sexy with all of her confidence. I just… Fuck. I don’t know.
The lady that runs the take-ins for the homeless shelter is actually an ex of mine. We dated for about six months last year. Her name is Sheila and she’s a beautiful person inside and out, but I had to break it off with her. For some reason, every time we had sex, I had to jack off afterwards. No matter what, she laid on the bed like a wet blanket. There wasn’t much to her.
Sheila has been trying to get back together with me to the point where she shows up at my apartment. I found it funny when she tried to hit on Andrew at a bar to get back at me. Despite her lame attempt on making me jealous, I still think she’s a great person.