Story 17 #2
John finished up his breakfast, scrubbing his fork and plate and the dishes he had left in the sink and setting them on the drying rack on the counter. He looked up at the stove clock. It was only a quarter past seven. He still did not have to leave for another 45 minutes, so he fixed himself another cup of coffee with milk and sugar. He trekked from the kitchen to the front door to check his doorstep, and the morning papers were there. Every morning, he received a copy of the New York Post and a copy of The Wall Street Journal. He read the Post before work and The Journal on his hour-long lunch break at work. He bent to pick up both newspapers, trekking back to the kitchen. He set The Journal down on the table, unwrapped, and set down his mug at his place at the table to free his hands to unwrap the Post.
He thumbed through the post, chuckling at their amusing way with words. He finished his coffee, set his mug in the sink, and decided to leave a little early for work to beat the morning traffic. Traffic was hell between eight and nine in the morning, and there was no way he was going to wait until eight to hit the road and get caught in mind-numbing traffic. He went back upstairs and grabbed his suit jacket, slipping his arms into the sleeves and buttoning only the top button. He grabbed his briefcase, his overcoat, and his hat and headed out the door, locking it behind him. He tossed his briefcase, his coat, and his hat into the passenger seat and slid into the driver’s seat of his 2018 Rolls-Royce Phantom, which he had bought the previous year as soon as it was available. He slid the key into the ignition and turned the engine over.
The drive from his home to work was only about 20 to 25 minutes before major morning traffic hit. He enjoyed listening to the radio on his way in to work, always tuning in to a classical station to put him at ease during his commute and to prepare him for his high-pressure day at work. He arrived at the office building in what felt like no time, parking in his reserved spot. He tossed on his hat and coat and picked up his briefcase, firmly shutting the car door and locking it as he headed for the front steps of the building. It was a multistory building with about 10 floors. Hutton & Sons was on the ninth and tenth floors, originally occupying the fourth and fifth before moving about 12 years after being established in the building.
He pulled the door open and headed for the elevator, pressing the button and waiting. Several people stepped out, leaving the elevator cab empty. He pressed the button for the tenth floor. The lower-level worker bees worked on the ninth floor, and the executives–the CFO, the COO, the CIO, and himself–all worked on the top floor. They all had their own individual offices and they each had their own executive assistants, who worked between the two floors. He could not wait to interview Jodie for the position of being his assistant. The other C-level executives all had young, attractive women working as their assistants, and now it was his turn. There was no doubt in his mind that he was going to give her the job.
The morning came and went as he made phone calls, answered emails, and passed things down to the ninth-floor secretary. Lunch went by like a breeze. Soon, it was three o’clock. His phone rang and he immediately picked it up. “Hello?”
“A Jodie Rasmussen is here to see you,” the secretary said.
“Excellent! Send her up!” He hung the phone back up, straightening out his tie and adjusting the sleeves of his suit jacket. Before long, there was a knock at his office door. “Come in!” Jodie opened the door and closed it behind her. He stood up to shake her hand. A light of recognition flashed in her eyes.
“Oh! You’re Daddy’s friend!” she said with a big grin. “I should’ve recognized that name.”
“Yes, I’m ‘Daddy’s friend,” he smiled back. They shook hands. “Go ahead and have a seat.” He sat back at his leather revolving chair behind his desk, and she took a seat in the right-hand chair in front of his desk. He folded his hands on his desk and thought for a moment. “Why do you think that you’re right for this job?”
“Well, I am currently a sophomore at NYU, studying from my BBA in finance, and I think that this would be the ideal position for me to learn the ins and outs of the industry,” she replied. She rested her hands on her lap. She was wearing a black pencil skirt that hugged her thighs nicely, with dark tights underneath. Her blouse was white and buttoned all the way up save for the top button. The neckline was conservative, showing no cleavage. Still, the blouse was appealingly tight around her breasts. Well, he thought. She knows how to dress the part. He felt a semi-erection uncomfortably growing in his boxers.
“Excellent. What exactly do you think you’ll get out of this job?” he asked.
“I think that I will gain valuable industry experience, as well opportunities to move up within this company,” she said thoughtfully. She pondered further for a moment and then smiled. “Plus, I get to work for one of my dad’s friends.”
“Indeed.” The innocence in her doe-eyed face and soft lilting voice were almost too much for him. Her voice over the phone was sweet, but in person, it stuck to him like honey. There’s no way she’s walking out of here without this job, he thought. “Alright, well… do you have any questions for me?”
“I hope this doesn’t sound too forward, but… what is the pay rate?”
“That’s not too forward at all. I would be asking the same if I were in your position.” He scratched his chin. “The starting rate for executive assistants is $34.50 an hour.” Her eyes nearly popped out of her head.
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” he smirked. “And even if you’re working part-time while you study, you get full benefits, and we pay you $10 for every hour that you’re in class.” He sat back in his chair. “So you’re making a decent sum of money even if you’re only here for a couple hours a day.”
“Well, I only have classes Monday through Thursday, so I can be here for a full day on Fridays,” she smiled. “I was one of the first to pick my schedule because of my grades.”
“Even better! Now, when can you start?”
“Really? That’s it? I have the job?” Her face was glowing in surprise and delight.
“Of course,” he smiled. “Consider it a favor to your father.”
“O-okay… I can start next Monday at two?”
“Sounds great.” He stood up. She stood as well. He took her hand and shook it once more. “I look forward to working with you, Ms. Rasmussen.”
“You too, Mr. Hutton.” Mmm, he thought. Why is that so sexy coming out of her mouth?
“You remember the way out?”
“Yes, sir.” Even better… He reached a full erection and made a rush to sit down as she walked out of his office. He gave her a wave and a nod as she closed the door behind her. After about two minutes, his phone rang again. He picked it up almost immediately.
“Yes?”
“Did she get the job? She just walked out of here with the biggest grin I’ve seen on anyone who’s walked out of your office,” his secretary said. He smiled.
“Yes, she starts Monday.”
“That was fast. She seems like a sweetheart, though.”
“Oh, trust me, she is.” He hung up the phone on the receiver. He looked around his office for a moment before opening his laptop to check his email. Might as well get back to work in the meantime, he thought. She’ll be here soon enough. He smirked deviously at that thought, typing out one of the about 25 emails he would have to write before leaving for the day.
Before long, it was Monday again, the day Jodie was set to start work. He could not help but wonder what she would be wearing this time. Obviously, her options would be limited, as it was a professional environment, but there was nothing saying that professional wear could not be alluring. After all, her simple interview outfit had been one of the most arousing sights he had seen in years. Or maybe it’s just her, he thought.
She showed up at his office door about five minutes before three o’clock. He appreciated punctuality in anyone, but especially in her. “Hello, Mr. Hutton,” she said with that same innocent smile as before. Today, she was wearing a similar white blouse buttoned all the way to top with a solid-colored black necktie, tied in a full Windsor knot. Her blouse was tucked into the same black pencil skirt that she had worn during her interview, with black stockings this time. She was holding a notepad and pen at the ready. The girl came prepared, he thought. I wonder how prepared.
“Ms. Rasmussen, how are you today?” he began cordially.
“Fine, sir. I had classes from 10 till two and I rushed home to get dressed to come here, so not a very eventful morning,” she replied.
“As far as mornings go, the less eventful the better,” he said. They both chuckled. “What kinds of classes are in? Any elective courses outside your major?”
“I’m mostly focused on my major, but then there are also required courses like history, sciences… I’m minoring in English and math.”
“Excellent choices,” he nodded. “I had minors in math and economics when I was getting my BBA,” he smiled. “Also majoring in finance. Do you think you’ll get your MBA as well or stop at the BBA?”
“It depends on how the BBA goes,” she said.
“Well, surely you have remarkable grades. Mr. Rasmussen told me you were doing well in school.”
“Oh, I am. All A’s and B’s.”
“Then your BBA should go just fine,” he smiled. “And then you can join my ranks with an MBA, or even go for your DBA.”
“Yes, sir,” she nodded with a smile. “I’ll probably just stop at the MBA, though.”
“If your grades stay that good, why not go for the DBA?”
“I’m not sure. I’d rather stay in the industry than become a professor and teach people the things that I’d rather be doing.”
“That’s entirely reasonable. I think that’s why most people stop at the MBA,” he conceded. He paused.