The CEO and the Bookkeeper

Paul was the CEO of our company. He and I were roughly the same age. What I liked about Paul was that he was quiet more than he spoke. While most NYC tech leaders felt the need to mimic the hoodie wearing style of the Bay Area, he showed up for work in a suit everyday. I supported this fully. We all choose our armor. The suit was his. Physically, he wasn’t intimidating or very unique. He stood 5'9" but read as taller to people. His frame was average, that of a former athlete. A suit was the right choice for him. It held his frame without making it look like he was trying to play older than he was…

Due to the nature of his job, he almost exclusively worked from his phone. He was also out of the office a lot. These were things I never questioned.

There was a glass conference room in the corner of the office that I called the penalty box. Paul spent a lot of time in the penalty box. Sometimes with clients, sometimes with team members, sometimes on the phone. When he was in the penalty box he would always stay in the far corner, presumably so he had a vantage point to everyone in the room.

Monday morning was sales review morning. Usually it was about 40 minutes where Marcus, Ryan and I would go over what leads we were chasing what our pitches looked like and any other sales related issues. My bus had been stuck so I was running late. I hate lateness. Lateness makes me angry, especially my own. Time is the only resource you can’t buy more of, so I hate when mine is wasted or when I waste someone else’s.

When I got in the room Paul wasn’t in his normal seat. He was sitting at the center of the table. His back to the glass wall of the penalty box. As I made my way straight to the room, I caught a glimpse of his phone’s screen over his shoulder.

When I get there I’m going to devour your pretty little pussy. The text bubble read before the screen shuttered to black.

I came in and sat across the table. Marcus was reviewing his targets for the week in his usual over-spoken style. My eyes remained locked on Paul, his phone would flash on in his hand every so often. He would have had us believe that this was because he was taking notes. Now I wondered. The glass over his shoulder betrayed the fact he was texting. As Marcus spoke I saw a series of grey boxes pile up beneath his blue box. I couldn’t read them, but the smirk on his face told me that he was enjoying whatever it was he was reading.

Marcus finished and Paul turned to me with his usual calm air. Rotating his chair, he said with nonchalant ease.

“Everything OK? You’re never late.” he said without a hint of irony or annoyance.

I found myself stammering. I never played poker, there was a reason. I felt my face was betraying I knew something I wasn’t supposed to.

“Yeah, no. Everything is fine. The bus had some engine trouble.”

“OK, good. So what’s on your map for this week?”

After a brief sputtering I squared up, opened my notebook and launched into my plan for the week. I would only be pitching officially twice, but I had lunch meetings with Stonewall Company and Solo Falls. Paul nodded approvingly when his phone lit up he looked down and nodded.

He stood up speaking, “OK, guys. This all sounds good.” He pointed at me. “I’ll talk to you Friday about how Stonewall and Solo went. Thanks guys.”

With that he made his way out of the penalty box and out of the office.

Later that day, I was working with my headphones on. I sensed heels clicking into our polished concrete floors. It was a rare sound. I picked my eyes up from my desk and our bookkeeper Lisa was walking in. Lisa the bookkeeper never really spoke to any of us beyond pleasantries. She didn’t come out to party with us. She was very much separate from the company. I had always assumed that this was because she was an intelligent beautiful woman who had no desire to be surrounded by idiots — this assumption would turn out to be correct.

Beyond noting her beauty I tried not to pay attention. I never date colleagues and we had no real reason to speak. She stood a tall 5'6" with olive skin and incredibly dark eyes. She looked Italian or Spanish in origin. She was curvy in a way that doesn’t make it into Cosmo or Maxim, but that make real men absolutely speechless. Her breasts were large but propotional to her frame, her waist diverted in, but not in a cartoonish way and her hips were perfect. You could tell she had a little stomach pooch and her thighs were wider than she probably liked, but every inch of her looked fantastic. Marcus would often lead the charge in commenting on her. He would use the word “fuckable” alot. While I agreed, I would never join in.

She came into the office in a pair of designer jeans and a turtlneck sweater. The sweater and her aforementioned heels were both black. She sat at her usual desk (she was the only one with a proper desk) and logged into the only desktop computer in the office to do her work.

I noticed that she laid her phone down on her desk. When it flashed with a notification, I watched a smile turn up from the corner of her lip. I don’t know why, but I scanned the room. Paul was nowhere to be found.

Until he was.

As I began to wonder if Paul and Lisa were fucking there he was striding in, looking ever more himself. I watched as he carried on a conversation and then looked at his phone.

He would thumb-type a response. Lisa would look down at her phone smirk and then wait to respond. She’d levitate her hand over the phone lying on the desk and with great dexerity type out something. Moments later Paul would check his phone and send back a stone-faced reply.

This went on for about two hours. The pattern was unbelievably clear. I don’t know why I gave a shit. Why I had to know some sordid detail. I got up and turned the corner toward Lisa’s desk. I got closer to her station when I realized I had no plan and nothing of substance to talk about. I got to her desk. She looked up her hand still over her phone’s screen.

“Quick question for you.” I said searching.

“Yeah.” She answered in a friendly but rushed tone. He hand still obscuring the screen.

“If I need an advance on a large expense, like a client dinner, how should I handle that?”

“Well…the way Paul likes to do it is for you to email me and I’ll have a Visa card sent to you.”

“Right, Got it. So if I…” at that moment I dropped my phone. I was waving it around like a fucking orchestra conductor whether or not this was unintentional or intentional only my subconscious will ever know, but it landed beside her mouse. She reached for it and when she did her screen was revealed. I glanced down. I couldn’t read it in full but there was a screen full of notifications.

You tasted so good sitting on my face.

Makes me want to bend you over that desk and taste you again…

There were others but I couldn’t really read them. Needless to say, Lisa and Paul were fucking and apparently he really liked her pussy.

Lisa handed me back the phone. “Thanks.” I said. I made my way back to the desk. Paul was talking with Richie about whatever it is they talk about. His phone in his hand. He was cool as ever.

Lisa drummed away on the keyboard. Eventually, she finished her work. The she stood up and went to the entry of the penalty box hooked her hand on the glass wall, swung her upper body through the opening and said, “OK Paul, I’m heading out!”

He nodded, “OK, thanks Lisa!”

She pulled herself upright again. Her hand left a print on the glass. Her palms had been sweating.