Page 39 of Collin: Episodes 10-12
Mr. Reevesworth slapped his bare ass once and then reached around to cradle Collin’s cock in his hand. Collin leaned back on his dom, letting him sink the plug back into his slit.
“How does it feel now when I do this?” Mr. Reevesworth rumbled in his ear.
Collin dragged in air and let it out raggedly. “It’s still a mind trip, sir. I feel owned.”
“You should.” Mr. Reevesworth pressed his lips against the skin behind Collin’s ear and kissed him. “Pull up your pants, boy.”
Lunch was a working meeting in the outer office with Bruiski, Mr. Moreau, and Eleanor. Bruiski and Mr. Moreau were already there when Collin and Mr. Reevesworth exited the inner office. Bruiski was setting out boxes of takeout on the big table, and Mr. Moreau was shuffling through folders, a pen behind his ear.
“Eleanor is running late, traffic,” Mr. Moreau said, waving at the food. “She said not to wait for her, just put her on speakerphone so she can listen in. Collin, would you grab me some coffee? Cream, no sugar.”
“Yes, sir.” Collin turned toward the door, then paused. “Anyone else want anything else from the break room?”
“Napkins.” Bruiski frowned. “They forgot them.”
Collin hurried back with the coffee and the napkins five minutes later. Everyone was sitting down, Eleanor with pride of place via Mr. Moreau’s phone set up on the table facing everyone.
Mr. Moreau squeezed Collin’s hand as he took the coffee mug, then sat down, and leaned forward so Eleanor could hear him. “We’re in a good place, personnel wise. So far, everyone who has reported harassment or threats has met with a lawyer and someone from our security team. Two of the three people who had resigned under pressure have come back. The third one acknowledges our attempts but says they don’t want the stress. We’ve offered a severance package, and they’ve accepted and signed an agreement not to hold Reevesworth Industries liable. There are ten legal cases in the works to answer the threats that were made, and we expect another eight or nine to develop. Damian is on top of that. That’s what I have right now. Eleanor?”
There was some heavy breathing then Eleanor’s voice came through the phone. “If ever there was an argument for better transportation…” She bit off a curse. “We’re in for a busy week. The inheritance challenge is being pushed hard, timeline wise. The other side feels ready and wants to get in front of a judge fast. They want to give us as little time as possible to review the evidence. But that’s okay. The judge has already ordered them to hand over the evidence for discovery. Depending on what we find, that will give us the timeline we’re fighting for.”
“When will the documentation arrive?” Mr. Reevesworth asked.
Eleanor huffed, clearly walking along a busy street. “Tonight. And yes, I know that’s incredibly fast. But if their case is based on what I think it is, it won’t matter what they tell us. What we need is independent information on this Dana Reevesworth. And so far, the private investigators are coming up with very little. Home educated by her mother, no known nannies. No known babysitters, not even a music teacher. We’re down to trying to figure out if she’s even seen a doctor since she was born. I’ve told them to widen the scope to her mother’s family.”
“Nine years, you’ve got to have some sort of paper trail,” Bruiski scoffed.
“It’s how much that paper trail can hide that’s the issue,” Eleanor growled. “I need more than a blank slate to work with, especially if we go in front of a jury. At this point, I’m going to have to argue that the child is being used as a pawn and not a person and that her mother should lose custody, which is such a flimsy argument that my professors would throw me out of law school for it. Plenty of kids have minimal paper trails for all kinds of reasons from religion to living in undeveloped regions.”
Collin winced. This doesn’t sound good.
Mr. Reevesworth tapped his fingers lightly against the table. “The child’s life could be fine. However, her creation may be an act of stealing if we can prove the sperm was taken after death and against my uncle’s wishes. Any update on that?”
“Nothing yet. I have interns reading his journals now though. Thank you for that.”
“Of course.” Mr. Reevesworth grimaced. “They might know more about my uncle than I do by the time they’re finished.”
“I’m having them digitized for ease of use, so if you want to read them later, I can have the files made available.”
“Send them to Bruiski.” Mr. Reevesworth gave a nod, and Bruiski made a note.
Tuesday and Wednesday followed the same routine. Mandarin classes first thing in the morning, work, lunch, and more work with evenings in the gym, and then dinner and bed, although everyone, including Collin, was bringing work home and eating takeout with their laptops open in front of them. Collin had brought work home partially because he was helping take up the slack of the one person who had really quit the team and partially because he had an idea he was trying to develop on the side.
There was pressure on his team from other teams, especially public relations, to model and produce ideas that could be taken to the public. Stories were being leaked daily about how irresponsible the passenger rail line was, how many failed passenger rail projects around the country had gone over budget, and how trains brought in floods of gang members and homeless populations to good, well-run communities. It seemed like a never-ending list of negativity; the public relations team was fighting it with experts, talks, articles, and even interviews with authors of books on sustainable cities and humane living.
It remained to be seen who was winning the discourse. Fear sold easily and hope less so. And there was still the overarching threat of who would even own Reevesworth Industries in the coming year.
Thursday morning, Collin limped out of Mandarin class with sore legs from his new exercises Damian had taught him the night before in the gym.
Ash gave him a side-eye. “You do that for fun? That workout stuff?”
“You run stairs for fun.”
“I don’t look like that.” Ash nodded at Collin’s sore legs.
Collin shot him a dirty look. “That’s because you’ve been doing it for months.”
“No, it’s because I did a few at a time. It took me months to run the whole building.”
