The conference was a rushed affair. As interoffice emails flashed down neatly hid cables the vast majority uttered a mutual groan of despair since the meeting was called late Friday afternoon just minutes away from everyone going home for the weekend. It came about because one of the firm's senior partners had discovered issues with the total number of billing hours the younger associates were reporting.
"If there is one thing an accounting firm has to get right is its own damn billing practices. Our clients would rightly leave us like rats fleeing a sinking ship if they found out we couldn't get that right. This weekend the section leaders and their immediate assistants will be required to stay and fix everything before we open for business Monday morning. I have complete faith this can be fixed quickly without embarrassing in the firm." The doddering old fossil of Donaldson and Clarke Accounting told the collection of young accountants and their assistants in the overflowing conference room.
Despite his openly pleasant demeanor and calm and at least partly reassuring words everyone knew heads were going to roll once the billing records were straighten out. Samuel Archer took the news in stride, his department, while caught up in the overall sweep was probably in better shape than the others. Most of his people were not the inexperienced kids fresh out of college that the senior partners had took great pains in hiring since the newbies were desperate for a job and would work for peanuts.
Sam was spending the opening minutes of the weekend cluster fuck sitting at his desk printing out all the required spreadsheets that he and his assistant section leader were going to review. At glance at the clock on his wall reminded him that he should call his wife, Bethany.
"Hey babe," he said after hearing pickup the phone, "got some bad news."
"What might that be lover," she responded. Thoughts of her naked body swirled in Sam's head. They were both in their mid-thirties and without any children. Their entire world revolved around the things they wanted to experience, which outside traveling and the arts was making the most of their adventurous sex lives.
"Well it's too late to call Karen and reschedule," Bethany said in a distracted manner. Sam realized probably working at her own desk filing paperwork that always seemed ready to engulf all the physicians in her medical practice. Karen, was Bethany's old college roommate and former lover that had become their threesome partner when time allowed them to reunite.
Sam sighed silently at his desk, "Well give her my best and try to think of me while you two are together." Karen had in fact introduced Sam to Bethany and been her maid of honor at the wedding. After becoming engaged, Sam and Bethany decided to hide their unusual sex lives from their families but had to scramble when word inadvertently leaked out that Karen would be joining them during the honeymoon. It was something now the three liked to joke about when Karen could make time to fly out from San Francisco and join them at their Atlanta home.
Just as Sam was about to say something dirty to his wife is assistant section leader, Pamela Moore walked into his office. "Alright babe I've got to go, Pam just walked in and just maybe there is a chance we can finish and I can make it home in time to say hi to Karen."
Pamela Moore walked towards his desk carrying her own set of printouts and CD's holding megabytes of information on the various businesses their team kept the books on. She was in her early thirties, blond with a body that Sam had occasionally wondered about as they performed their daily workday duties. Not that would ever try anything with her, Bethany and him had an open marriage but it was all done above board. Plus, there was the fact that not only was Pam a practicing Christian and took a dim view on all the office antics that the kept the firm's gossip grapevine busy, but she was usually wound up far too tightly to even have a basic personality.
"Hi Pammy," Sam said, "you can put all that stuff on the table next the wall."
Pam barely nodded before dumping all the printouts and CD's on the folding table Sam had the office manager bring before going home.
"You okay, Pam?" Sam asked motioning her to sit down in the other office chair he also had them bring up. Wearing a simple casual but conservative blue dress, Pam looked both tired and frustrated.
"Yes Sam," she said almost plopping into the ergonomically designed seat. "It's just that Mike and I had plans this weekend and now he's mad."
"Oh, I'm sorry Pammy." Sam said inwardly cringing at the thought of her husband Mike. The guy was a massive egotistical blowhard who at times openly treated Pam like crap, especially during things like the firm's Christmas party and Fourth of July picnics. Mike's father was the owner of several local car dealerships, a situation which had propelled Mike straight to a manager's spot after returning home from college.
"Well if its any consolation, Pam, I don't think we're in as much trouble was others. If we get started now we might be able to salvage Sunday." With that the two began to systematically organize their information and begin reviewing the files.
Five hours later the lights of Atlanta shown through the thick glass windows. Donaldson and Clarke took up four floors of the massive Royal Green Tower leaving those working through the weekend greatly spread out giving the impression they were almost alone. Being ten stories up, Sam and Pamela would occasionally take small breaks and look down at all the people going about their lives. By this time, Sam's office looked as if a tornado with obsessive-compulsive neatness tendencies had blown through. Spreadsheets were taking up every available inch of floor space with Sam and Pamela at the desk squeezed close together staring at their respective laptops.
"That's it," Pamela said pushing her chair away from the desk, "I've got to take a break. I've got a huge headache and my back is hurting."
"No problem," Sam said, "lets walk down to the break room and grab some of the goodies our benevolent overlords left for their slaves." Pamela laughed, a little too strong at his remark, but got up and joined him to walk out of the office.
To Pamela the corridors seemed to be deserted with only a few janitors going about their rounds. As they strolled, Sam and her did the usual small talk when they turned the corner and walked into the break room. Consisting of several lunch tables and chairs, along with commercial grade microwaves and three large refrigerators the break room also boasted a carpeted floor, overstuffed easy chairs, and two couches so the staff could relax.
The two ignored all that and went straight for the table where several trays of sandwiches, cookies, and coolers of cold drinks had long since been left. Sam noticed Pamela attacked the tray of sandwiches, eating several before stopping to breath again.
"I hope none of these items have spoiled," Pamela said grabbing a bottle of flavored water.
"They're fine," Sam said eating one himself, "the caterer probably used meats with enough preservatives that the leftovers will still good Monday morning." It was then that Sam saw Pamela take a bite out of a cookie that he was hit with the urge to kiss her lips. He shook it off, instead thinking of Bethany and Karen back home and how he wanted to be there in the middle of the two.
Minutes passed and Pamela showed no sign of wanting to return to the office and restart the process of reviewing files. She grabbed a plate, stacked it high with sandwiches and sat down at one of the lunch tables. Sam had figured the weekend was a wash so he grabbed a soda and sat down across from Pam.
The two talked about favorite vacations spots until Pam cringed in pain. "Your back again?" Sam asked setting his can down on the table.
"Yeah, its all the tension here at work and my husband." Pam said using her own hands to rub the back of her neck. I can barely stand the pain in my head and back.
