As she sat at her desk once more, she realized it had not been anger. Not exactly anyway; it’d been more like jealousy. Mr. Conner was a powerful man, one Aisha was simultaneously attracted to and respectful of. She had wanted him to send the lady out, to get mad, to rise from his chair and point to the door and tell her to leave. Instead, he had held up his hand to her, and Aisha had been the one sent away.
Mr. Conner was a nice man and a great boss. Aisha was sure he was attracted to her, the same way she was attracted to him, and he paid her the same attention most men did. She was gorgeous and she knew it, and she wasn’t the type of woman to be ashamed by that. Nor did she have a problem flaunting some aspects of her body. To put it simply, it made life easier sometimes. The job with Mr. Conner was an important first step toward a career in her field, and it had been sought after by quite a few applicants, men and women alike. So she had interviewed in professional but somewhat sexual clothes—low-cut tops, short skirts. She knew some women would balk at such tactics, but Aisha thought it was foolish not to use whatever you could to get ahead, and she knew thinking like that would only help her in her chosen field, one that was filled with backstabbing and people looking to do nothing but further themselves.
Of course, Aisha drew the line in places too. She would never sleep with anyone for a job. That wasn’t the kind of thing she was comfortable with, and it wasn’t the sort of thing she respected. But off course, showing off her tits and her legs and her ass in a tight skirt was different. She wouldn’t sleep with Mr. Conner for her career, but she didn’t mind if he wanted to fuck her. If he did, that was only good for her. He was a man who had everything. Making him want something he couldn’t have would be good for him as well.
The hard thing was, Aisha wanted to fuck him too. Badly. But she had dealt with crushes before. Having them, being wanted, it was no big deal, and she was going to control herself. She was going to keep teasing her boss and make it on her own.
She got back to typing up the contract Mr. Conner needed, but she couldn’t help but overhear the woman and her boss in his office. Though maybe overhear wasn’t the right word, not exactly. She couldn’t tell what was being said; she could only make out that the woman was speaking loudly, almost yelling. She didn’t hear her boss raise his voice at all, but due to the pauses between the screeching woman’s words, she was sure he was trying to speak to her.
After ten minutes or so, the door to Mr. Conner’s office swung open and banged loudly against the wall. The tall woman stormed out, her face red and pulled into an angry scowl. “Of course,” she said as she stopped just long enough to look at Aisha, and then she was walking again. As she stomped on sky-high heels toward the elevator that would take her down to the lobby, heads turned in cubicles to watch her go.
Aisha swiveled in her chair to see her boss standing in his doorway. She smiled and cracked a joke. “Another satisfied client?”
Mr. Conner laughed. “Something like that,” he said, and then he wiped his forehead, feigning exasperation. “I need a drink.”
“It’s only ten in the morning,” Aisha said.
“Well, tell me when it’s noon. I’ll take you to lunch—as long as you don’t mind if I drink mine.”
Aisha giggled and shook her head. “Fine by me,” she said, and Mr. Conner turned into his office and shut the door.
Mr. Connor had never asked her to lunch, but she had been hoping he would. Any time spent with her boss, so she could impress him with her natural talent when it came to their very specific work, was good. It was great in fact. She typed up the contract and took it into his office, and then she went back to her desk and watched the clock on the corner of her computer screen slowly click upward to twelve.
Right at noon, she went into her boss's office and waited since he was on the phone. She leaned against the wall next to the door, listening as he spoke to a famous baseball player who was nearing the end of his contract and desperately wanted off the small-market team he played for. When the conversation was over, Anthony looked at his gorgeous assistant and let his head tilt to the side.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Well, it’s time for—”
“Do you always listen in on people’s conversations?”
“Oh. I should have waited out—” Once more Aisha was cut off, but this time by Mr. Conner’s infectious laugh. It was booming and loud, and it made Aisha laugh every time she heard it, but this time she fought her own laughter and remained stone-faced.
“I’m kidding,” Mr. Conner said. “I like messing with new people.”
“Well I don’t like it at all,” the young woman snapped.
“I’m sorry,” Mr. Conner said, holding his hands up, suddenly taken aback.
“I don’t care if you're sorry,” Aisha said. She then stormed forward and slapped her palms down on his desk, leaning over so he would surely get a nice view of her supple cleavage. “I quit.”