As time passed, they found themselves basking in the glow of numerous successes and achievements. Their collective efforts had transformed the company, propelling it from the brink of collapse to the very summit of the Sex Demon Advertising and Marketing Industry.
But amidst the triumphs and accolades, a shadow haunted the recesses of his mind. He had strayed from the oath to his wife that had once dictated his every erotic thought. [You swore the oath...] Robyn's voice scoffed in his head. His wife, Robyn, was also often the voice of his increasingly annoying conscience.
"Strayed from his oath..." he thought for a split second. That didn't begin to describe it. He grappled with the weight of his actions, a pang of guilt piercing through him. He had disregarded the solemn promise he had made to his wife. [You fucked the young bitch, didn't you? You limp-dicked old man.] Robyn spat the words at him with venom.
<<<|||>>>
He had fought for the plans that saved the company. He remembered confronting the Marketing Director. She said, "That sounds like an ultimatum."
"A simple statement of fact," Jesse said calmly. "Decision-making in the company hasn't been good over the past few years. We need to get on and do this before it all gets swallowed into the decision-making black hole."
"Ok, you tell me who you want and I will see what I can do."
So, he laid out his demands. A key one was to move Rebekah into the position of his Executive Assistant.
Back in his office, he paced to and fro. Wall hangings of faded reds, blacks, and blues decorated the walls. Amulets and talismans of precious metals, orbs of beaten brass and silver and gemstones were in cases of glass, bronze, wood, and onyx. He wasn't a believer in the claimed supernatural power of such objects, but he did value their social history. They spoke of cultural beliefs and practices through time; a testimony to anthropological symbols that represented communal thinking and customs.
Rebekah knocked on Jesse's door pulling his attention from the items around his office, "Hey, what's the latest? The rumour mill has it that there might be something interesting happening."
"Really, and what might that be?" He said as he motioned for her to come in although she already had.
"Well, I heard your name... and the Marketing Director. That's enough for the rumour-mongers to get going. Beyond the gossip, nobody seems to know much at all. It's all tightly under wraps, which is another reason it is interesting."
"Close the door," he gestured and then waited. "So, you have come straight to me... why?"
"Of course," said Rebekah, confidently. "Nobody else knows anything. It's a secret, so it's important. You're involved, the rebel Marketing Director is involved, which means it adds up to--well, intriguing, exciting. And that means that I am interested. Am I close?"
"I was right about you, you are sharp. Has anyone said anything to you about a new project, or maybe a transfer?"
"No one has said anything directly to me, but I hear things. Even gossip has splinters of truth in it if you know how to dig them out. Of course, I can just come to you and ask, which is much easier," she flashed a cheeky grin as she flicked her long red hair back from her face.
Rebekah was right, there were interesting things to be heard. After The Marketing Director met with Jesse, she began arranging to have Rebekah transferred to the special project ASAP. Rumours had started to spread from that like ripples in a pond: special project, staff moves, Jesse and The Marketing Director. The mundane workday suddenly had some spice for the bored masses.
Jesse and Rebekah worked hard and close. Before long profits were improving. The word was spreading about the results, and the demand for the company, particularly Jesse and Rebekah, grew. They were in demand and their reputations escalated. So did the scandalous rumours.
<<<|||>>>
Rebekah was standing on the top of a four-step ladder in the server room. She heard Jesse and looked down at him as he walked toward her. Her arms remained high reaching toward a device in an elevated rack.
"Can you steady me so I don't fall?" she asked. "I need to initialise this storage unit and it won't respond to a soft start. We start testing the new AI cluster tomorrow."
"How about you stop playing and come down?" said Jesse in his deep Scottish brogue, looking at the floor. "We need to talk."
"Does she feel the same way?" he thought. "Maybe it is just me. He could smell her Midnight Jasmine scent. She was twenty-three, sixteen years younger than he was." He felt a moment of insanity.
"Just hold me steady for a second and I'll be done," she said.
Jesse stood behind her and reached up to hold her so she didn't fall. He paused, trying to work out where to put his hands. She was wearing a short skirt as she frequently did. Not that she went out of her way to be provocative. It was simply her; she was an attractive, athletic, young woman and very self-confident. Who was he kidding, she was beautiful and a tease. He could feel his pulse rising.
"Come on," she said, "just steady me so I don't fall." She was on the very top step, reaching up. Her very short skirt was pulled high, her G-string revealing a tantalizing view.
He had never touched her before. They had bumped shoulders when walking, joking, and laughing but he had never consciously touched her. He could easily see up her skirt as she reached up. He was blushing.
Jesse reached out and put his hands firmly on her short skirt pressing it to her hips. "My God," he thought, "she is so trim, so firm." Touching her like this was hard to believe. He was torn between his wife, the law, and the sensation. His head was swimming--she was playing, teasing him.
"Hold tight," she said, "make sure I don't fall." She jiggled her hips and Jesse's hands slipped as he tried to avoid holding her tight.
"Sorry," he said, "I don't want to get... too friendly." Those lame words were the best he could come up with. He blushed more, like an adolescent.
