That evening I tried to phone Nev. There was no answer. She'd sent me a WhatsApp message earlier while I had been in Mr Melo's office, doing what I had done... I couldn't stop blushing at the thought of it, my pulse quickening with a surge of arousal. The feeling of remorse for my actions in using that poor woman conflicted with an intense yearning for the sense of control it had given me. The strength of my emotions surprised me, and I wanted to talk to someone about it.
I thought that was Nev, the only one who might understand, but she was not available. Her message was cryptic and strange, saying that her review had gone badly, that they didn't think she had what it took, and she had to leave. She was going back home, that very evening...
So, I spent the night alone, awash with emotions, not knowing how to think about everything. All I knew was that this job was my opportunity to make something of myself, an important start to my career, and that I'd do what was necessary to be successful. It seemed that I had made an impression, at least on Mr Melo. I'd shown that I 'had what it took', even if it was a bit embarrassing.
Because my probation review with the CEO was the next day, I tried to quieten my mind. This was a huge thing, because it would determine whether I would have a job after my internship. The fact that it seemed to have gone badly for Nev did even less to give me confidence, but I had to have faith that Mr Melo would put in a good word for me. I tossed and turned in anxiety wondering what the next day would bring, before eventually falling asleep just before midnight
At precisely ten the next morning, I presented myself before Joao Dias' PA, projecting more confidence than I felt. I was wearing a navy pinstriped skirt and jacket, with a thin white top, dark stockings, black pumps. The skirt was short, and the heels were high, just like the executives here seemed to like, but still smart enough to be professional.
I was still smarting about a comment from Nic, who I'd bumped into on the way here. He'd smirked knowingly at me "I believe you enjoyed the entertainment yesterday."
"I... I.. umm..." I couldn't help but blush and look down with embarrassment. How did he know already? Did everyone know? I felt my hands become clammy and my stomach sink.
He continued when I didn't know what else to say. "I told you, everyone does it... or at least those that are given the opportunity." A smarmy gloating wink on the word 'opportunity'.
"I must be going. I have..." I needed to get away from him and his supercilious attitude. This was not what I needed, just before my review.
"Oh yes. Your review. Good luck impressing the boss." His knowing smirk had returned. I didn't answer, trying to put the exchange out of my mind, but I couldn't help feeling he knew something that I didn't.
Now here I was, being shown into the CEO's office, about to face my future. I took a deep breath and walked in through the solid wooden doors.
It was a large corner office, minimalist in furnishing, emphasising the amazing views over the city and the bay. Mr Dias was sitting at his desk, reading a file. He didn't look up or greet me when I entered, so I tentatively made my way towards his desk, standing there waiting to be acknowledged, not knowing what else to do. My hands were clasped nervously in front of me, as if they might protect me...
Joao Dias was a distinguished looking older man, slightly thinning hair, chiselled tan features, broad shoulders, but not heavy. He looked like he kept in shape and I guess people would call him handsome, although I preferred younger men. The bookshelf behind him was full of little pictures and what I assumed were mementos from his travels to different parts of the world, China, Africa, amongst others. He didn't seem like the type of man that bought an image.
I had time to study them all, as I stood there waiting for him, thinking that he was either very rude or intentionally unnerving me. After what felt like hours, but was only about a minute he looked up, his eyes slowly following my figure, from my heels, up my legs, pausing at my hips and then again at my chest, before reaching my face. A hint of a smile tweaked at the corner of his mouth, but otherwise his face was inscrutable, his eyes piercing mine as if he were reading my soul.
"Miss Rodrigues, I'm pleased to meet you." The formality was slightly surprising, but it was his voice that was compelling. Deep and authoritative, he spoke like a man who expected to be listened to, was used to giving instructions. I wondered if that was something men like this learned or was it innate, something they were born to. Was it a product of being male, with testosterone coursing through one's veins, or being strong, and towering over others? I didn't know, but at that moment I envied it. He'd paused briefly, studying me, but before I could respond he continued. "I've heard good things about you."
"Thank you... Sir." Like in Mr Melo's office yesterday, the title just burst out, like it was the only way to refer to him. I felt like a little girl standing in the headmaster's office, not knowing how to act so I blurted out "It's an honour to meet you."
I'd seen him from a distance around the office, but we'd never been introduced. He didn't seem to spend much time in the office, or at least in the parts that I frequented. But this was Joao Diaz, important and consequential, with access to heads of state and captains of industry. An icon I'd looked up to. And now I had a chance to prove myself. I was in awe in his presence...
"You're a very attractive young lady." He said it like it was an observation he was making, not something he was saying to flatter me... while his eyes panned over my frame, as if sizing me up, evaluating me.
"I... err... thank you." I stammered in response, not expecting that, not knowing how else to respond. Was it even an appropriate thing for a boss to say?
"Stand up straight, hands by your side. Look professional. Not like a timid schoolgirl." His instruction crisp and measured, not expecting any resistance. "And take off that jacket. Women shouldn't wear jackets... too masculine."
I stared back at him stunned. This was not what I'd expected. I'm not sure what I did expect, but it was not this. I didn't know what to say, so I murmured "Really?" As if I were trying to process his words, deny their reality.
"Yes. Really!" He snapped back holding my gaze, imposing his will on me. My resistance wilted under that stare, because we both knew who was in charge. "Unless you want to walk out that door and never come back."
Moments later I was standing there, my jacket on the chair next to me, hands by my sides, standing up straight shoulders back with my breasts pushing proudly against the flimsy material of my top. Just like he wanted, his eyes wandering over me, unashamedly eyeing me.
"Very nice... Turn around for me will you... slowly." I should have expected it by then, but it still jarred. That he saw me in this way, as my physical assets... before my abilities. But if this is what it took, I could survive a bit of ogling by a dirty old man. Particularly as the alternative was to lose my job. He'd as much as threatened it.
I turned slowly on my heels, knowing that they caused my hips to sway unintentionally with each step, to push my bottom out and make my back arch, as if I was presenting myself to him. Just the way he wanted. I had to grit my teeth in frustration, but not give him the pleasure of seeing how much I disliked it. I could do this...
