Old bastard must be worth at least ten million bucks, Jack thought sarcastically, looking at the paper bag. If I had his money, it'd be caviar and champagne for lunch every day. Aloud he said… "Good morning, J.B., have a good trip in?" J.B. rode the bus. Not bothering to reply to Jack's greeting, the little man immediately launched into a violent attack on the public transportation system, seeming to forget that a few months before he'd just as bitterly used all his considerable influence with local government to help defeat a proposed tax on business to improve the local bus service.
Jack despised J.B., but his manner never betrayed it. He was attentive to the little man, flattering him when he thought that that was what he wanted, and on rare occasions disagreeing with him when he suspected that J.B. wasn't too sure about something and wanted his mind changed. He had come to view Jack as a bright young man of independence and character who shared the right views – his views. Jack felt that as long as he could keep his boss thinking that way, his future in the company was assured, and he spent as much energy researching the little tyrant's moods, prejudices and needs as he spent actually doing his job. It paid off much better than hard work.
"Phone call for you, Mr. Hollister," his secretary said. Jack excused himself and went to answer the phone.
"Hello, Jack," Anna Collins' throaty purr buzzed from the receiver. Jack felt his blood boil at the way she had said his name. He knew be hadn't been imagining things last night!
"Hi, Anna, what can I do for you?"
"You don't know? Don't tell me you've already forgotten the job you and Max were talking about."
"Of course I remember," Jack responded with a laugh. "But I thought you were going to come to the office."
"I am, but I thought I'd better get an appointment first. Max said you looked like a busy man."
"Not too busy for you, Anna. Why don't you come in, say…" he looked down at his desk calendar to see when he was free, "… about eleven o'clock. Or make it eleven-forty-five, and we can have lunch."
"Fine, I'll be there, but I might as well warn you… I have a big appetite."
"I thought you might," he said, making his voice suggestive. "You strike me as the kind of girl it would take a lot to satisfy."
"Oh, how nice," she said with a sultry laugh. "We've only just met and you're already beginning to understand me."
When Jack put the phone down, he was surprised to find that his hands were wet with perspiration. God, that woman blows my mind… even over the phone! he thought shakily. It all looked like it was going to be easy, maybe too easy. He wasn't used to ripe plums like Anna falling into his lap without a lot of hard scheming and plotting. There was something strange here.
For one thing, what the hell was Max to Anna? Jack hadn't bought that bit about Max being her uncle… no, that was a lie. But why? They were undoubtedly fucking – Jack could tell by the way they looked at one another. Not like lovers, to be sure – there was a lot of bad feeling between the two – but like a man and woman who knew one another's bodies.
Sure, that's it! Jack thought in triumph. The old bastard's keeping her and he can't get it up often enough. She's horny, and she knows where to come to get it! Smugly, Jack settled for his ego-building answer, conveniently forgetting that it was Max who had first asked about the job for Anna.
Jack jittered away the rest of the morning, impatiently waiting for Anna to show up. He knew that at eleven-thirty the boss shut himself up in his office to eat his meager lunch alone. Jack didn't want him to see Anna, not before she was hired. J.B. was, on the surface, a vicious prude. Jack knew he would have to warn Anna about what she could wear in front of the old man. He railed and ranted about the deteriorating morals of the younger generation, and more than one surprised girl had been fired on the spot for coming to work in what J.B. thought was indecorous attire. The same held true for the male employees. Even the slightest suspicion of scandal, and they were out the door. It had been discovered that one compromising young account executive had spent the entire night at a girl's apartment, and he was fired.
But there were other reasons why Jack didn't want the boss to see Anna until he had installed her in a safe niche. Like most other violently vocal pillars of rectitude, J.B. was a hypocrite. He used his fulmination's to cover up, partly to himself, the fact that he was a lecher of the lowest order. His desk drawers bulged with pornographic pictures – Jack had found them one day when the boss was out of the office and had forgotten to lock his door. And it was fairly common knowledge among the higher staff members that the old man regularly used the still-attractive body of Jack Hollister's wife. Jack was the senior vice-president, and no one doubted what kept him in that position. If J.B. got a good look at Anna too early in the game, then Jack would be pushed right out of the picture.
But, he thought, if he played his cards right, Anna might be of use to him right there in the office. If she and he got it on, and reached the right kind of understanding, then he wouldn't care if the old man got to her. In fact, Anna might be invaluable to him, bringing him privileged bedroom information, right from the old goat's mouth. He doubted if J.B. could get it up often enough to seriously cut into his time with Anna. And maybe between them, they might get that nasty old fart over a barrel and both make the big time.
I'm counting my chickens a little too early, Jack warned himself. Shit, maybe she does only want a job! But he doubted it. There hadn't been much doubt about her approach to him so far.
At eleven-forty-five, Jack walked out the door and met Anna coming in. "I'm starved," he said, not giving her a chance to go in. "Let's eat."
He took her to a discrete little restaurant, dimly lit, with secluded booths that made it unlikely that they'd be seen together, not because it was strictly necessary, but because Jack wanted Anna to get into the habit. If everything went well, they'd have a lot of times like this together, and there were people, like Pam and the boss… and that fucking Harry Steers, who must never know. Shit… Harry would run straight to J.B.
The lunch went like a dream. Anna kept her eyes fastened insolently on Jack, and to his chagrin, he began to get an erection as he stared back at her lush dark beauty. He was glad that the restaurant was dark.
How different she is from Pam, he thought excitedly, comparing her smoky, sultry loveliness with his wife's bright golden beauty. What a lucky man, I'd be to be fucking the both of them, he thought in awe. Too bad I'd never be able to get them in the some bed together. What a circus that would be.
"My department budget permits me to hire another girl," Jack explained to Anna when they had finished eating. "The pay's not the best in the world but then, you won't kill yourself working, either." He let his voice grow more confidential. "And there may be little extras coming your way from time to time… like good dinners, for instance."
For Christ's sake, this guy is incredible! Anna thought in amusement. He's used to dealing with dumb little blondes right out of high school. Her earlier interest in Jack began to change into a mild contempt. She'd met his kind before; cold young men on the way up, engrossed with themselves and their all-important careers, never imagining that there might be other people who couldn't be bought by the cheap trinkets they offered. This boy's a real amateur, she said to herself, but he's got a good body.