Page 26 of Brassy Bigwig

CHAPTER NINE

DIMITRIOS

Long days at the office are nothing new for me. I’ve been working crazy hours since the moment I became my own boss fifteen years ago. However, the days have seemed longer still these past few weeks. I’ve been trying to train my new assistant via email, which is far from efficient. It’s not the way I prefer to run things, but after Kendra… I don’t want to leave anything to chance.

I’m not the cheating kind. At least, I never wanted to be. But Kendra had this allure to her. This magnetism. She captured the eyes of everyone in the room, men and women alike.

Just like Genevieve. In that fucking dress.

My cock gets hard like it does every time I think about her.

Unlike Kendra, Genevieve actually has class. Kendra only got attention because she’s a man-eating whore.

And I’m the poor asshole she chewed up and spit back out.

Day by day, she wore me down. She knew when Emilia and I would have a fight or when she would make me feel like less of a man. Kendra could read me like a book, so finally, I opened up to her. Little by little, she weaseled her way under my skin.

First it started with little smirks across the table during meetings. The way she would nibble on the end of her pen while she stared at me, eyes hooded with lust like she could crawl across the table and into my lap at any moment. We’d toss sexy, suggestive banter back and forth with each other when no one else was around.

Then she began to stay late when I did. We would order dinner in and end up talking instead of working. That’s when it got physical. We would fuck here most of the time—there isn’t one surface in this office her naked body didn’t touch—but occasionally we would go to her apartment.

My stomach rolls just thinking about it.

She made me feel powerful again. Like I was the smart, strong, and capable man I used to be before Emilia got her claws into me and started wearing me down. It went on for several months before it came crashing to a halt.

One day she didn’t show up for work. I got a call from her just before lunchtime. She was crying and told me she needed me to come to her apartment right away. I thought she was pregnant, and it made me sick to my stomach. I knew sleeping with her was a bad idea. It was wrong and immoral, and my values have always been much stronger than that. But I couldn’t help myself. I went over how I was going to break the news to Emilia in my head the entire time I raced to Kendra’s.

Only, when I got there, she seemed perfectly fine. She’d even invited two friends over. Two large, muscular, mean looking Russian men who stood over me as she spoke.

She handed me a large envelope. Inside of it were pictures of us in her bed, on her sofa, the kitchen island. There was also a tape recorder. My stomach dropped when I realized what was going on. She played the recording for me. It was from the night she talked me into acting out a rape fantasy of hers.

I didn’t feel right about it the entire time it was happening, but I did it anyway. It’s shameful how tight her grip was on my balls. She really wasn’t much different from Emilia. Fury rages through me as I close my eyes and think back to that day.

“This is what’s going to happen next, D. You and I are going to take a little trip to the bank, and you’re going to request a transfer of five-million dollars into my account.”

I was dumbstruck. I couldn’t believe what was happening.

“As soon as it’s complete, you’ll receive the only other copy of this recording as well as the thumb drive containing all of the pictures. If you don’t comply, I’ll release the tape to the media and have you arrested for rape.”

Not much of a choice there. We went straight to the bank and initiated the transfer. As soon as we stepped outside of the building, she handed everything over to me.

“At least you’ll have something to remember me by,” she joked before turning on her heel and walking out of my life.

A couple weeks later, Emilia hit me with divorce papers. Not because of Kendra but because she found someone else. I didn’t know it at the time, but she’d been cheating on me for longer than I cheated on her. Unfortunately, I ended up having to pay big time in both cases.

Since Kendra, I’ve had a revolving door of executive assistants working for me remotely in my New York office. I refuse to hire one to work with me here in Torrance. Furthermore, I never speak to them on the phone. Communicating with them via email means everything is in writing. There can be no he said, she said. I’ll never get myself into that kind of shit show ever again.

I do feel bad for the people HR has hired for the position since then. I guess you could say I haven’t been the nicest boss in the world. But I need to be firm so no one can take something I’ve said and make it out to be anything other than business.

I hear my cell phone vibrate seconds before it starts dancing along the surface of my desk. Looking down at the screen, I see Dex’s name and pick it up.

“Dexter, how’s it going, man?”

“Pretty good, pretty good. What about yourself?”

“Can’t complain too much. Just sitting at my desk, trying to get some work done,” I explain.

I leave out the fact that I get depressed going home to an empty house every night, which is another reason why I work late.

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