I don’t believe this! Carmen’s mind flooded with fury. Seated at the far end of the massive wooden table that was the centerpiece of the board room, she worked to control her growing rage. Her foot bounced anxiously beneath the table, but through shear will power, she was able to keep her face calm and collected. She propped her chin upon her fist and leaned her elbow on the table. At the opposite end of the table were the higher executives of Foster & Gregg, including the CEO, Mike Vaughn.
Yet, the cause of her anger was the person standing in front of the projection screen at that far end of the room: Josh McCall. With every slide he flashed on that projection screen, another piece of Carmen’s composure was stolen away.
Josh called this meeting earlier in the week and thanks to his relationship with the executives, they all agreed to attend. His promise to deliver an amazing level of profit through minimal capital investment also piqued their interest.
When Carmen saw the meeting invitation in her email inbox, she thought it was relatively innocuous. Josh was a decent broker, not the brightest of the young workers in the bullpen, but hard-working and he had just enough ‘used car salesman’ in him to make his worth in client relationships. When he invited everyone to a meeting introducing a new investment derivative, she just figured he was going to report upon a few wrinkles the new laws were putting into some of the more common derivatives. After all, that’s about as far as Josh’s intelligence went, and to an extent, she was correct.
Carmen’s heart fell into her stomach when she saw the first slide in Josh’s presentation. “Parsable REIT Derivatives” was the exact title of a presentation she had been working on for the past 3 months.
Congress had passed new laws aimed at the banking industry since the mortgage crisis and Carmen had spent much of her senior year studying the new laws. In the course of her studies and with the help of some very knowledgeable brokers in the firm, she had identified a few weak points in the laws. Used in combination with a much older revenue code, she had figured out a way to parse a REIT into more manageable pieces and then create derivatives from the pieces. With the majority of the mortgages in the REIT being underwater, the REITs came cheap and the more profitable pieces could be split off and sold at huge premiums. Carmen was preparing to present her information to the executives, and except for the name on the first slide, the presentation Josh was giving was an exact carbon copy.
How the hell did he get my presentation? She seethed. She never left her desk without locking her computer screen; their clients had far too much money at stake to do anything different. Everyone did it. She only had one other copy of the presentation which she kept on her laptop and she hardly ever let that out of her sight. When she transferred the presentation from one to the other, she erased the file from the flashdrive when she was finished. The firm took client security very seriously and even interns attended security briefings regularly. He had to have had some help from one of the geeks in IT.
Fucker! She wanted to leap from her seat, race the length of the table and lay Josh out with a right cross to his smug face. Once she had him on the ground, she envisioned driving her 3-inch stiletto right into his chest. They HAVE to know he’s not bright enough to come up with this stuff on his own! Her reasoning did little to comfort her. Someone call him on it! ...Go ahead! Ask him a question! I guarantee he’ll stumble all over himself! Someone raise your hand!!! Her eyes continually scanned the attendees seated around the table. No one moved.
Josh smoothly went from slide to slide. He was good with an audience, but Carmen constructed the presentation too well. Any person who could read would be able to present the information competently if they had her slides. Carmen wasn’t quite as strong in her public speaking skills, so she relied on her tools to help her through these presentations. She could be cursing herself right now, but Josh was bearing the full brunt of her anger at the moment.
Every once in a while, she thought she saw Josh look at her while he was talking. It’s a good speaking tactic to maintain eye contact with your audience, so it’s entirely possible that he was only looking in her general direction as a disciplined public speaker. But, she couldn’t help but take any glance her way as an affront and a mockery.
She wanted so badly to stand up and call out Josh as a thief and a liar. She wanted to run to her desk, retrieve a flashdrive and show every person in this boardroom that Josh’s presentation was actually hers, right down to the color scheme. The problem was how would she be able to prove it? Josh had been with the company for over 5 years and had a decent record of performance. She was only a new-hire who had just graduated and interned there for not quite 2 years. Who would they believe? Plus, she hated to admit it, but this firm still held a pretty solid adherence to the ‘old boys club’ rules. Looking around the room, there were only 3 people seated at the table who required a bra, and she was one of them (though, she noted a few of the older managers probably could benefit from one). Telling these men that one of their “prodigies” (even a lesser one) was a thief, would ostracize her even more than she already was.
Faced with her predicament, she could only sit there and watch someone else give her brilliant idea to the firm. She felt like raising her hand and asking Josh questions, but even then, she felt as though her colleagues would label her a ‘bitch’. New hires, even bright ones like her, weren’t really looked upon favorably for questioning their peers, let alone female new hires. Thus, all she could do was sit and stew in her seat.
The meeting concluded with several of the executives congratulating Josh enthusiastically. Anytime someone put dollar signs in front of their faces, their eyes lit up like a kid’s at an amusement park.
Carmen’s anger had boiled for the entire presentation, but her rational mind had found a foothold, calming her toward the end.
“Mr. Vaughn will listen to me,” she reasoned under her breath. He’s always been very nice to me and looked out for me. He knows how smart I am and if I show him my presentation, he’ll have to at least look into it. He just had to. If he didn’t, she had already started to question how she could continue to work in a place that let something like this happen. 2 years of my work, wasted... No. No. I can’t think like that. She continued to argue with herself. He’ll look into it and he’ll see that I had the idea first. Maybe Josh wouldn’t be reprimanded that harshly, but at least she would get credit for the idea. Right?
After the boardroom had emptied, Carmen waited in the hallway. Josh and Mike were among the last to exit and were walking and talking together as they headed for Mike’s office. Carmen pretended to be part of a conversation between two other attendees that were loitering in the hall next to her, so she didn’t have to lock eyes with Josh.
Once they passed, she followed them down the hall, all the way to Mike’s office. They entered his office and closed the door. Carmen could only take a seat in the sitting area outside his office.
The large wooden door stifled any attempt to listen to what they were saying, so she didn’t even attempt it. She sat cross-legged in the stiff, padded chair trying to formulate an argument that would be convincing and not incredibly accusatory. Her foot dangled over her knee and bounced at a frenetic pace, revealing her anxiousness. Staring at her dark gray skirt, she tried to organize her thoughts.
Laughter from behind the door snapped her from her contemplation. She looked up at the door to Mike’s office and noticing for the first time since she sat down, Mr. Vaughn’s secretary was not in her office. She leaned in her seat to peer into the administrator’s office and confirmed that no one was in there. Giving the hallways a quick survey, she stood up from the chair. She lightly stepped across the carpet and slipped into the open office.
Sure enough, the door between Mr. Vaughn’s office and his admin’s was slightly ajar. Approaching the door, she could hear the two men’s voices coming through the gap between the door and frame. Kneeling, she looked through the crack and saw Josh standing before Mike’s desk. He had his hands in his pockets as he talked to Mike. Carmen shifted on her knees and saw Mike seated behind his desk. The crack through the door wasn’t wide enough to see both of them at the same time.
Josh was being congratulated by Mike, at which Carmen’s anger started to boil once again. Accepting of the praise, Josh took the compliment, but turned it back on Mike and inquired about the raise that was promised. Looking at Josh, Carmen heard Mike’s chair shift. When she shifted her gaze back to Mike, she could see that he had stood. He walked around the desk as he said, “You’re doing a great job, Josh. So don’t worry.”
Carmen watched as Mike cleared the desk and stood before Josh. Confused, Carmen strained to get a better angle one with which to see Josh’s face.
“A promotion is just a matter of time. Just be patient. As long as you continue to be a team player...” Mike’s hand visible to Carmen reached out to Josh’s arm and squeezed it. Yet, Josh’s head hung low.
What’s going on? Josh wasn’t taking the praise and good news as someone normally would.
Suddenly, the hand that was on Josh’s arm lowered and reached behind Josh. Mike shifted his stance and his other hand was now visible. Carmen’s hand shot up to her mouth in astonishment. Squeezing Josh’s ass with one hand, Mike’s other hand was slowly stroking his penis protruding from the unzipped fly on his pants.
Carmen fell on her backside, stunned. Wide-eyed and mouth agape, she scrambled on the carpet to get to her feet. She hurriedly exited the office and raced back to her desk, mumbling, “Oh my god... Oh my god...”
“Hey Josh,” Carmen called out from her cubicle. Roughly 20 minutes had passed since Carmen had witnessed the incredibly disturbing acts between her boss and associate. Returning to his desk, he had to pass by Carmen and she took the opportunity to confront him. When he heard her call out, a mockingly sinister smile came across his face. He almost appeared to be laughing. He dropped his head and slumped his shoulders as he came to a halt. But then he looked up at the ceiling. He WAS laughing! He dramatically spun on his heels away from Carmen and then finally back around to her.
“Yes?...” he said, taking a few steps toward her desk.
Matter-of-factly, she asked, “So, where was it exactly that you came up with that idea?” Josh let out another laugh and stuck his hands into his pockets. He looked down at his shoes still chuckling. “Or better yet, that presentation?” Carmen continued.
Josh finally looked up at her. His laughing had stopped, but he still wore the smile. As if it was a waste of his time, he surveyed the rows of cubicles surrounding them. Satisfied that no one was aware of their conversation, he closed the last few feet to her desk. Carmen, staring up at him from her chair, folded her arms on her chest.
Josh raised one knee and sat on the corner of Carmen’s desk. With a calm and slightly lowered voice, he said, “Look, we both know that was your presentation. It was great, by the way...” He placed his hand on top of the other on his thigh. He tried his best to look the part of the mastermind. “You made it very easy to understand and speak about.”
Her heart dropped. He was admitting that it was hers! Any hope of presenting any evidence against him and proving that she was the author of the work was slipping away.
“You see, Carmen,” Josh started ruminating, “I have this ‘arrangement’ with Mike. He sees me as... as sort of a protégé, I guess.” He looked up and to one side. “He recognizes my drive and determination. He understands that I’ll do whatever it takes to succeed here and frankly, he loves it.” He looked back down at her. “As for where that presentation came from, well, I’ll tell you right now, he doesn’t care.”
Carmen saw all hope just vaporize with his statement.
“You could go into his office with piles of proof that you created that presentation and that strategy,” he reiterated, “and he still wouldn’t care. ... He sees the money. He sees his ‘protégé’ taking up the charge. He couldn’t care less where it came from now.”
His smug smile reinforced her situation. There was nothing she could do. As the founder of the firm, no one questioned the CEO’s judgment and his orders were never disobeyed. Even if faced with incontrovertible proof to the contrary, if Mike said Josh created that presentation, Josh created that presentation.
Carmen absently looked away and sighed, “I wonder if there’s any way I can succeed here with you and Mike in a relationship.”
“HA!” Josh erupted. “A relationship? Hahahaha...”
Carmen squinted at him in bewilderment.
“I don’t know what you think you know, but I can tell you that feelings have nothing to do with it.”
“But I saw you!” Carmen interjected.
Josh’s eyebrows raised, more at the audacity of the statement, not at the surprise that Carmen saw him and Mike.
“Oh really?” He continued to look down upon her, then let out another laugh, “Hahaha, I’m not even gay!” He then leaned down to her, bringing his face closer to hers. “Mike’s married. I’ll do anything, ANYTHING it takes to get to the top. So, if Mike wants to have a little fun, what do I care? There’s no way any rumors are going to get out because Mike would never do that to his wife.”
Carmen was just stunned.
“Plus,” he continued, “that little nugget is one heck of an ace in the hole should I ever need to use it.” His smug smile took on the air of complete satisfaction as he looked at her.
He reached out his hand, putting it just under her chin with his thumb rubbing her cheek. “Who knows, Carmen? Maybe there’ll come a time when you might have to do something ‘extra’ to get ahead here?”
When his thumb grazed her cheek, her arms immediately flew apart and she shot back in her chair. His hand still supporting the chin that was suddenly absent, Josh smiled even larger. He stood up, adjusted his jacket and slowly backed away from Carmen’s desk. With a quick wink, he turned around and strode off to his own cubicle.
Carmen’s fingers were digging into the arms of her chair. She watched him walk away, high-fiving his friends in the cubicles he walked past, waving at all the admins with whom he flirted, acting as if nothing at all happened in the past hour that wasn’t part of a standard day’s work.
Carmen couldn’t even begin to think of what to make of all this...
Pulling alongside the curb a few spaces away from the Off Track Betting parlor, the Mercedes came to a stop. The door opened and out came a pair of striking blue stilettos. The car stood out in this part of the Bronx, but the owner stood out almost as much. The blue skirt matched the shoes which matched the jacket which covered a lavender blouse. The colors alone would have made her unique. The car just topped it.
Isabel closed her car door and walked toward the entrance beneath the OTB sign. A few men sat outside on the sidewalk dressed in tattered clothes. They held out their Styrofoam cups as she walked past, but didn’t raise their heads until they saw the stunning blue heels. A cat-call or two whistled from beneath their lowered caps, but Isabel kept walking.
She pushed through the door of the betting parlor and entered the dank, dark lobby. The musty smell of smoke, sweat and alcohol filled the air. The people lined up in front of the counter didn’t look much different than the bums out front of the establishment. They were probably one bad bet away from taking the seats next to them out on the sidewalk, or they were laying the last few pennies they had just collected out there on another pony.
Isabel glided right through the collection of scum and headed for a door next to the counter. Pushing through that door, she never bothered to even acknowledge all the leering eyes or the slack-jawed admirers waiting to place their bets.
Once in the back hall, Isabel spotted the large bodyguard standing next to a door. She continued her confident pace and walked straight toward him. Hearing the clack of her heels on the floor, the bodyguard was visibly surprised to see Isabel. He hesitated for a split second before stepping toward her and stopping her.
“I’m sorry. Phil can’t be seen right now. I can give him a message if you like,” he said, blocking her path.
Holding a small clutch, Isabel placed one hand on the other in front of her and innocently smiled at the bodyguard. “I’m sure you can. But, it is imperative that I see him immediately.”
“Sorry, lady.” The bodyguard had to have known who she was, but he wasn’t letting on.
Reaching into her clutch, Isabel pulled out a few folded bills. Reaching up to the bodyguard’s chest, she repeated, “I really do need to see him,” and tucked the bills into his breast pocket.
Before they slipped out of sight, the bodyguard got a look at the corner of the outmost bill. The “100” was clearly visible and if all the bills in her hand were 100s, then there was at least $500 in his pocket now. Isabel re-clasped her hands. His eyes looked her up and down, then back to his pocket.
The bodyguard reached in to his pocket as he turned his body to let her pass. He didn’t say a word; he just leaned back against the wall and fished for his money. Isabel didn’t thank him. She simply brushed past him and grabbed the handle on the door.
The door swung open revealing a dark office complete with a large wooden desk, leather chairs, a wooden bookshelf to one side of the room, a lone window on the opposite side and only a few, cheap decorative pieces of art on the walls. It was a far cry from the Abbate family offices. It was as though Phil was trying too hard to retain the ‘old ways’.
Standing behind his desk, Phil was on the phone when Isabel walked in.
“No... NO! You stay there and tell me when he leaves!” he yelled into the phone. He quickly turned toward the door when he heard it latch. His face, originally contorted with anger, took on a look of confusion when he saw her.
Isabel could hear the muffled voice on the other end of line when Phil went silent. The rest of his body frozen, his eyes followed her as she circled one of the leather chairs and took a seat.
The voice repeated a question and finally snapped Phil out of his stupor. “What? NO! You heard me!” He slapped the receiver down onto the cradle.
“Shit...” he said, reaching for his pack of cigarettes on the desk. “And how the fuck did you get in here?”
“It wasn’t that hard,” she answered innocently. “Perhaps you need to find better help.”
“Shit...” he repeated before bringing the lighter to his face. His barreled chest inflated as he pulled on the cigarette. Standing roughly six feet tall, his large, rounded chest hid most of his middle-age spread. His Italian features were accented by the slicked back dark hair framing his square face and jaw.
“Is this visit business? ...Or pleasure?” he asked without looking at her.
“Oh really, Phil...” Isabel squinted her eyes in offense.
“Cut the shit, Isabel,” he said sharply, finally turning to look at her.
Isabel was caught a little off guard by his shortness. Has he learned more than I give him credit for? She sat quietly as Phil turned to one side and continued to smoke his cigarette.
As Phil blew out a white cloud of smoke, Isabel spoke up, “Look, Phil. I’m concerned for my family.” Phil grunted in acknowledgement.
“I’ve heard you’ve been meeting with the other heads of family and I’m worried what that means for my husband’s men and my kids.”
Phil stared at the wall, slightly nodding in understanding as he puffed away.
“Phil, I need to know what’s going on,” she pleaded.
Phil pulled the cigarette out of mouth, lowered his head and let out a deep, gravelly laugh. Placing his hands on the desk, he turned to her and leaned on his arms. “You just mind your own god-damned business and let me take care of this.” The fierceness in his voice was unmistakable.
He sternly continued, “As long as you continue to play nice, you and your kids will have nothing to worry about.”
Isabel responded, “I need more than that, Phil.” Trying to project confidence, she delivered her statement as she adjusted in her seat and sat upright. “I need our organization to be involved in plans going forward. If everything Carmine worked for is picked apart by the other families, then my family is going to be hurt.”
Not cowed by her display, Phil straightened up. One hand slipped into his pocket while the other brought his cigarette to his mouth once again. His eyes never wavered from Isabel even as they squinted through the smoke.
“Isabel,” he began, stepping around his desk, “you came to me before when you were desperate for information and I graciously helped you out.” He stopped in his tracks. “And I know your payment to me was enjoyable for both of us,” he said through a wry smile.
He continued walking, finally taking a seat on his desk in front of her. Pointing his finger at her while still holding the cigarette, he continued, “But you’re going to get in over your pretty little head if you continue to make demands.”
Isabel realized Phil was no smarter than when they last met. Still, she sat and fumed while Phil looked down at her. Who the hell does he think he is talking to me like that? Visions of a baseball bat cracking that smug look off his face flashed through her head. I should make you eat that fucking cigarette, you piece of shit. Jam the whole pack down your throat you rancid, fat fuck.
The rage in her eyes was evident, but Phil was enjoying it. He knew she was a lot more prideful than most people believed. So, he took great joy in being able to push her buttons when he got the chance. He took another drag from his cigarette and lowered his hand.
“Now, do you think giving me another shot at that tight little cunt of yours will earn you an invite to any meetings coming up? Not that I’m saying there is one...” He slowly drew on his cigarette, still looking at her out of the corner of his eye. “Because, really, Isabel, you’re one hot piece of ass, but I don’t know if that’s enough ‘tribute’.”
Isabel shot up out of her seat. Slicing through the curl of smoke left by the glowing cigarette, her hand sharply slapped Phil across the cheek.
Caught completely by surprise, Phil dropped the cigarette and sat wide-eyed for a split second. Anger quickly replaced confusion as he stood up off the desk and shoved Isabel back into the leather chair.
She collected herself as Phil towered over her. She looked up at him with defiant eyes, but made no move to repeat her action.
Phil took a second to calm down as well. He took a step back and bent down to pick up the cigarette.
“That’s not exactly playing nice, Isabel,” he said as he collected his butt. He turned slightly to place it in the ashtray on his desk when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught Isabel standing again.
Her wrist slapped against his palm as he stopped her second attack. She tried to pull her hand away, but Phil just sneered at her. His powerful arm held her in place as he put the cigarette down.
A few futile attempts to withdraw her hand left Isabel standing there, her eyes still fiery with anger. She knew full well Phil had the advantage in any physical altercation, so she just waited for his response.
Suddenly, Phil violently pulled her to him, twisting her arm behind her back. His hand squeezed her wrist and pressed against the small of her back. He wrapped her up with his other arm around her waist, trapping her free arm against her hip.
Cringing away from the humid, smoke-laced breath against her ear, she felt his head press against hers. “That’s not playing nice, either!”
He spun her and shoved her forward into the chair. Isabel flew face-first into the leather, her arms unable to catch herself in time. She slid down into the chair before being able to spin and almost sit up. Before she could completely turn around, Phil had his hands on her blouse. Nearly ripping it as he pulled her up, he brought her head to his face and forcibly kissed her.
Isabel struggled to get her feet under her as Phil’s strong hands held her against him. Flailing, she tried to push away from his advance. Her hands pulled at his sleeves, her heels failed to find footing on the hardwood floor, all while Phil pressed harshly against her lips.
Her body suddenly went weightless again as she flew back into the chair for the third time. Landing roughly on the cushioning, Isabel was more stunned than anything.
Thinking Phil looked like a Cro-Magnon as he stood over her, Isabel tried to recover her bearings; his chest was heaving with his deep breaths, his arms bowed out around his frame. With her hands digging into the arms of the chair, she thrust her hips into the seat and kicked at Phil’s leg. Turning her toe to lead with the sharp point of her stiletto, she aimed for the inside of his opposite leg. Striking his shin it was a direct hit!
“AGH!” Phil cried out and stumbled forward slowly as the leg buckled under him. But, in a motion that was more than half-intentional, he reached out for the back of the chair as he fell. His hand landed next to Isabel’s head on the leather high-back.
“Arrgggg!” He grunted again as he pushed against the chair. Feeling the chair fall back due to Phil’s overpowering force, Isabel drew a deep breath. Her feet flew straight up as she clenched her teeth to brace for the impact.
Her body pressed into the cushioning when the chair landed on its back with a thud. Again, she was stunned. Feeling a crushing hand on her ankle, her leg was pulled down against the seat. Phil pulled her and the entire chair back to him. Simply holding on for dear life, the ride was a short one.
Placing his shoe underneath the foot of the chair, Phil threw the whole chair forward, back to its original position. Isabel’s grip was strong enough to keep her seated, but before she could shake the dizziness, Phil’s hand was at her throat.
“You bitch!” Phil said, pulling Isabel up out of the chair by his hand around her neck.
Isabel threw her hands up to his forearm to support her body being lifted. On her feet, Phil brought her close to his face again.
“So, I guess you’re just not going to play nice anymore, huh?” he said between labored breaths. His hand was crushing her neck from the sides, not completely cutting off her airway.
You fucking prick! What? You’re afraid to really choke a girl out???
“I think that means I get to play a little rough as well,” he explained to her as he started to curl his arm. Isabel saw his face getting closer.
Seizing the opportunity, she said to herself, See how you like this, asshole. She shot her hand out toward his face, nails first. Phil was too slow to react in his rage and felt the nails dig into the side of his face. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her hand down, but Isabel had dug a little too deep. When he pulled her hand down, her nails left a painful, bloody claw mark.
“Arrghh!” Phil cried out again. He doubled his grip on her wrist and neck.
“Unnggghhh,” was all she could get out under his crushing hands.
Phil’s eyes were now wide with rage. Sweat was starting to cover the already red skin on his face. Stepping forward, he grunted loudly. Isabel braced for the worst, closing her eyes as his grip closed around her throat. Trying to draw a breath, her mouth was already open when Phil plunged his tongue into it. Isabel’s eyes shot open, surprised by his reaction.
As he kissed her, his grip relaxed slightly. Isabel then started to punch, claw and grab anything she could. With only one hand free, her attempts were ignored by Phil at first. But, as she started to feel faint from lack of oxygen, her attacks became more panicked. When she brought her hand to his face, he broke the kiss.
His grip on her throat loosened. Isabel gasped for air, then coughed. Phil still held her throat, but at arm’s length now, her one hand held by his. She gripped his forearm breathing heavily. Through tear filled eyes, she tried to focus on his face. Blinking them clear, she brought back her defiant look.
Phil simply stood, smiling evilly. “Now that we’ve concluded with the business,” he grunted, trying to catch his own breath. “I think it’s time for the pleasure part of the meeting.”
Isabel felt his hand clamp on her throat once again. Using that hand and the one on her wrist, he literally picked her up off the floor and slammed her down onto the desk.
WHAM! The room went dark for a split second. Isabel’s body went limp after landing on the desk. Phil let loose of both her neck and wrist.
“Now, just relax, Isabel,” he said. “Remember what I said about playing nice? Well, when you don’t, you get more of that.”
She lay there slowly moving her arms, her eyes gradually regaining their vision. But, as she recovered, she could feel Phil’s hands underneath her skirt. His hands had already almost pushed the skirt completely over her hips and he had a hold of her underwear. He lifted his hands underneath the skirt, raising her hips off the desk. In one quick movement, he pulled the underwear down her thighs and her hips fell back down to the desk.
Bringing a hand to her face, she was able to pull her head up off the desk. Her vision still blurry, she could make out Phil undoing his belt and pants.
She made a feeble attempt to roll off the desk, but Phil was quick to put his hands on her blouse once again.
Pulling her up to him like a rag doll, he told her, “You were always a great piece of ass, Isabel. So, I’ll tell you what. I’ll take this as payment once again and I’ll just forget this little incident occurred.” He shook her as if to help her recover. “We’ll send Joe an invite to our little meeting. No doubt that little shit will find a way to fuck it up on his own, anyway. But, what do you think of that?” She turned her head limply away from him.
He laughed. Letting go with one hand, he braced her head and kissed her once again.
Isabel still didn’t have the strength to resist, so she feebly tried to respond to his kiss. Loosely moving her tongue against his, Phil seemed to be encouraged by her movement. “Oh yeah,” he said under his breath. “That’s right, Isabel. You remember this... I know you liked it.”
Finally regaining some strength, she put her hands against his chest. The little force she could muster didn’t budge Phil at all, but he was seemingly emboldened by her ability to move. He broke away from their kiss and pulled her off the edge of the desk.
Isabel landed on her feet, but immediately felt Phil spinning her back to face the desk. His hand on her shoulder forced her face down to the desk exposing part of her ass to him. Phil pushed the skirt up the remaining length of her ass, taking a second to roughly fondle it. “Oh yeah, Isabel. You should drop in more often,” he said menacingly.
She felt his hands on her ass and grimaced at what was going to come next. Sure enough, she felt his legs force hers further apart. Her stomach dropped completely flat against the desktop. His fingers forced her ass cheeks apart.
Clawing at the desk, she felt the head of his cock press between her legs. She could tell he used his hand to guide it to the mark and with a powerful thrust, he plunged his cock into her. Grunting into the desk, she tried to brace against him.
“AAAHHHH,” Phil moaned as he entered her. “God, yes.”
Isabel intended to keep her head pressed against the desk for the duration. She gripped the edge of the desk and essentially waited for it to be over.
Phil, acknowledging his conquest, bent over her, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Now, just enjoy this, bitch,” he said angrily.
He pulled back and then pushed into her powerfully. Her thighs slammed against the edge of the desk underneath his weight. Phil repeated his thrust again and again until he was essentially pounding her against the desk.
Placing his feet farther from the desk and supporting his weight by pressing his hand onto her back, Phil brought almost all of his weight to bear on Isabel. His hips smashed hers against the desk and the bouncing was bruising her thighs.
Fortunately, Isabel was correct; it didn’t take Phil long to get off. Only a few moments into his violent act, Phil started to groan loudly. His pace quickened and Isabel could feel his hand clench at her skin through her blouse.
His cock withdrew from her and Phil cried out behind her. The warm feeling of his cum on her ass while his grunts fell off in intensity signaled the end of Phil’s attack. He leaned on the desk by placing both hands beside her hips. She felt his bloated stomach rest on her ass and his erection shrinking against her thigh.
Phil finally stood up and sighed. Pulling his pants back up to his waist, he told her, “Now, get your ass off my desk and out of my office.”
Knowing she wasn’t going to get the chance to clean up, she simply let her skirt fall back over her hips when she stood up. She straightened the skirt, then the blouse and took a few steps away from the desk. Stopping abruptly, she turned to face Phil who was still trying to fasten his belt. With steeled eyes, she told him, “You’d better not fuck with my family.”
Phil’s face held a blank expression for a moment, but then with lightning-like quickness, Phil’s hand flew the air and slapped Isabel across the cheek.
Blinding pain seared Isabel’s skin. Her jaw went slack and she staggered back from the blow.
Pointing at her, he scathingly retorted, “If you EVER come see me again, you had better be far more ‘grateful’. He nearly spit the words as he advanced to force her out the door. “Otherwise, I’ll have to teach you a hell of a lot more humility!”
With Phil advancing on her, Isabel backed out of the door. She turned and staggered down the hall. The bodyguard simply smirked at her when she passed him.
Haggard and disheveled, she quickly walked back through the OTB and out to the street. Nearly falling when she pushed the door open, she stumbled out onto the sidewalk where the panhandlers were gawking as she tried to retain some composure while walking to her car.
She opened the door to the Mercedes and basically fell inside. After closing the door, she pulled the rearview mirror to face her. Her bloodshot eyes stared back. She turned her head to survey the red, tear-stained cheek ... and a smile wickedly curled over lips.