The way he’d looked her up and down when she was in his office, as if evaluating her down to the last cell. In the end, he clearly didn’t find her disgusting. How then, should she take his evaluating gaze? How then, should she interpret this private phone call?
She dug her two fingers slowly into the moist crevice of herself, slowly penetrating the layers of flesh, going inside. She was pulsing with heat and excitement. For him. For Red. For the only man that had ever made her this hot.
After only a few minutes of slow masturbation, she came violently, her hips swinging into the air. She could see her pelvis in the full-length mirror across from her. Saw her buttocks lifting upwards, her skin slick with sweat as her hand rubbed her clitoris.
Oh god, she thought. What have I gotten myself into?
***
“Good to see you,” Glen Goldman said when she arrived the next morning at nine o’clock. He checked his watch. “From now on, please come in by eight o’clock. If possible, seven thirty.”
“Absolutely! I didn’t know—“
He smiled and blinked. “It’s fine. First day and all.”
“Mister Jameson didn’t tell me what time I should arrive,” she said.
Glen stopped blinking entirely. Which seemed to be a sign that something was truly amiss. “Mr. Jameson?”
“Yes.” She shouldered her purse nervously.
“Why would he have told you what time to arrive?”
“Because he called me to tell me I had the job.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling like she was walking into quicksand.
Glen’s expression seemed to harden a little. “Oh. I see. Well, that’s highly unusual—normally an HR representative would have phoned you. But I’m sure he had his reasons. He always does. In any case, let me show you to your desk.”
He got up from his chair and escorted her from his office into the mass of cubicles where the lower caste existed. She would occupy a simple corner cubicle. It was bare, white, with a Mac laptop sitting open on the desk and a phone beside that.
“So, what should I do to start?” she asked him, putting her purse strap over the seat back and sitting down.
“I’ll bring you over some reading material. A binder with basic information about our company as well as some nondisclosure forms for you to sign, etcetera. When you’re done with the binder, come and see me.” He disappeared and came back moments later with an enormous, thick binder full of various forms and pamphlets and company policies.
He handed it off with a smile and a few blinks, then left her by herself. Around her, the cubicles buzzed with people gossiping, talking on the phone with clients, or simply working.
Nicole kept to herself, put her head down and got to work.
***
“Want to grab a bite to eat?”
She glanced up to find Remi Danvers, the Art Director, standing in her cubicle entrance looking just as severe as she had the previous day.
“Oh. Is it lunch already?” Nicole asked.
Remi shrugged. “We’re flexible. It’s only eleven but I find that the cafeteria gets too crowded at lunch time, so I go early.”
“Sure, I’ll come. I don’t even know where it is.”
“Oh, you need the grand tour, then!”
Remi took her down to the fifth floor, which was taken up entirely by the cafeteria. The word cafeteria didn’t do it justice in actuality. It was enormous, with seating in four or five separate locals, some great window seats and some private booths too. There were no less than half a dozen food stations that served cuisine from different parts of the world. Italian, American, French, Asian, Middle Eastern.
Remi whispered to her. “The Middle Eastern food tastes like ox shit, but everything else here is fantastic.”
Eventually they both got their food (Remi had baked ziti, Nicole got a cheeseburger and fries) and sat down at a small table overlooking midtown.
“This view’s incredible,” Nicole said, biting into her hamburger. “And the food is good too,” she said through a mouthful of beef.
Remi nodded. She still had her sleeves rolled up and her shirt unbuttoned, but somehow she was less intimidating now. “You could do a lot worse than to get a job with Jameson. It has all the bells and whistles, in an industry known for its bells and whistles, if you know what I mean.”
“I think I do.”
Remi eyed her. “Are you really as na?ve as you seem?”
“I—I don’t know. I guess maybe I am.”
The older woman speared her ziti and held it momentarily in mid air. “I’m trying to decide if you’re going to be ground up and spit out in a month working here, or whether you’ll be promoted to head of the division in the next year. I guess it’s a coin toss.” She ate noisily.
Nicole just shrugged. “I only want to work hard and do a good job.”
“Awww, aint that sweet.” Remi chewed and chewed and then her mouth closed and her eyes bugged out of her head. “Holy shit. He’s here.”
“Who?” Nicole turned to look.
“Who do you think?”
It was Red. He was with someone she didn’t recognize, a tall man with an enormous head. The two of them were walking right past Nicole and Remi.