Stressful Business

"Kenzie, can you check this for me?"

Kenzie Hennessy brushed aside the black hair raining over her paperwork and glanced over at her boss, saw the folder marked Tapas, and rolled her eyes. Brian James had been stalling on that client for too damn long. For a moment, she actually forgot the man's name, since they'd both been calling him Tapas for months, given that they'd always take him to lunch for that particular dish when trying to coax him into signing. But now that Mister Tapas was finally ready to use their marketing services, Brian kept pushing back the final part of the deal. She understood – the guy was a prick and spent most of the meetings hitting on her and drooling over her cleavage – but it was frustrating as hell for her boss to hide behind her.

"Just give me it, and let me deal with him already," she grumbled. "The sooner we finish his loans, the sooner he's out of our hair."

"I don't mean to stick you with all of my problems."

"But you do. At least you pay well."

"Expecting that raise, aren't you?" She smiled brightly up at him, baring her teeth. For the last seven years since coming to work for Mansfield Marketing Corp she had received a raise every October on her anniversary there. Brian knew damn well not to stiff her now. He shifted his tie and scratched at his graying temple, a nervous habit that made clear he got the message, then glanced down. "Is that skirt even shorter now?"

"Don't you go starting shit, too."

"We do have a dress code. I think."

"The manual says professional, not mentioning any specifics. And I'm not spending two hours a day at Pilates and Zumba to hide under some starched tablecloth."

"Ugh. Fitness freak." She flipped him off and turned back to her computer. He was one to talk, after all. He and his wife were at the gym a minimum of four times a week – though Missus James did admit that it was a great boon to their sex life. Considering how the man, despite being in his mid-fifties, still looked not a day over thirty and in his prime, she could easily picture what a boon their workout routine was. Truthfully, she imagined it a bit too often.

Brian started to walk away, then turned back and said, "Oh right, about the Katagowa deal."

"It's still a go, isn't it?" Apprehension twisted her gut. The two of them had been working with the Katagowa Corporation for nearly two years. If they get the trade deal, they'll officially have offices in Tokyo. If not, then a couple dozen people will be getting their severance checks by Christmas.

Brian's face was hard to read. "It's not a no-go, I can tell you that. But the presentation is changing venues. We need to go to San Diego. Mister Hiyoshi has to cut his trip here short, and isn't able to make the flight to Atlanta."

"Uh, we're going to San Diego? Who's we, exactly?"

"Just you and me. This weekend. I don't have time to prep anyone else, and Jensen's breathing down my neck and cracking the whip. It's not a problem, is it?"

Her husband was trying to get them a reservation at a very fancy restaurant downtown, but their schedules just wouldn't line up. This was the first week in months that it did. Until now. "Jeremy is gonna have a fit. What about your wife?"

"Lena will be fine. And if she isn't, I'll buy her a Rolex."

"She hates watches."

"Since when?"

"Since always. She knows it's your default gift. Sorry."

He headed off grumbling. Maybe she should've kept that a secret until later. Oh well, she thought. Best to know the truth right away, and get the sting out of the way. She resumed her task, inputting all of Mister Tapas' data – including his real name – before making a call to her husband. Although she had planned to tell him immediately, the guy was sounding too happy to just blurt it out. So she chose to do it in person, not cower behind a phone. As she talked to him about his day while heading out of the building, she tried to ease her guilt by telling herself that if she got this deal, not only was that raise guaranteed, her bonus was going to be enough to buy a table at that restaurant. And since they were going to California, she decided the best way to unwind before and after the meeting would be to hit the beach, and finally get a tan after the long winter. Jeremy would appreciate that, at least.

*****

"Ready for this?" asked Brian.

"The meeting or the flight?"

He smiled and patted her back, letting his hand linger a bit longer than necessary. Not that she minded. A touch here and a little flirting there wasn't a big deal. Even her husband wasn't bothered by it when it happened during company dinners. And Jeremy was usually the jealous type. It just served to remind her how greatly her hard work in getting in shape was paying off. She welcomed the reassurance, too. Flying was a nightmare in good weather, and the spring storm that rumbled loud enough to be heard in the crowded airport was making her nauseas. Their section was called for boarding, and she stuck close to him until they were at their seats.

For the flight, like always, they dressed for comfort rather than professionalism. She wore a long jacket over a t-shirt and yoga shorts, while he had on khakis with an elastic band, and a shirt that was tight enough to outline the sculpted muscles underneath. She let him glance down at her legs, no longer bothering to be sneaky these days. After all, her own gaze lingered on his chest from time to time. Her husband was no slouch, but she sometimes envied Lena.

"So how did your husband take it?" he asked. "Am I gonna get another earful during the company cruise?"

"Oh, hell yes."

She replayed it in her head, then gave him a more subdued record. Jeremy had been waiting at home for her, making dinner. His beard had been dyed again to hide the gray, neatly trimmed and shorter than usual, which she preferred. He had certainly been ready for their fancy dinner. She'd kept a smile on for the night, trying to keep the tone light, until she told him there may be a delay in their night out. Jeremy had kept his cool at first, until she revealed only Brian would be going with her, then he lost it. Words were said by both of them, particularly about how she and her boss often shared a room, and for the first time, she had let slip they usually shared a bed. This was a fact she'd wisely kept a secret for the last two years since the two of them had gone on trips together, and no matter her assurances, Jeremy had accused her of cheating. Without pride – and leaving it out on her recount with Brian – tears were shed as she promised she wasn't having an affair. Ultimately, he believed her, but the fight wasn't over.

"Yeah," said Brian, "I'm in trouble."

"Does your wife know about that? Sharing a bed, I mean."

With a shrug, he said, "Maybe. We've never discussed it, but I think she gives me a pass, just in case."

"Seriously?"

"Strange, I know. I've never cheated, but we have been a bit... adventurous back in the day."

"So, don't ask, don't tell."

"Exactly. Shit, I'm freaking you out."

She quickly began rubbing her temple as if she had a headache in order to mask the weird look she was probably giving him. Yep, that was too much information. Way too much. She promised it wasn't going to get awkward, just as it never has been. During all of their other trips, they'd generally stayed on opposite sides of the bed when he'd been forced to pinch pennies to that extreme. Sure, there was the occasional time when he'd drape an arm over her, or she had slid a leg over his. And he had walked in on her while in the shower once, but it was her fault for not locking the door. And he had spun around so fast he'd smacked into the doorframe. He probably had no idea that she'd taken some extra time in the shower that morning to fantasize about asking him to come on in. She decided against letting it get any more awkward than that.

"Did you bring condoms?" So much for that. She turned to Brian, who shook his head and thumbed back toward the guy behind him. She turned around as a petite woman with bright blonde hair rummaged in her oversized purse, apparently coming up empty. The guy, who was rather cute in a plain sort of way, smirked at her.

"I swear I packed them," she said in a deep Irish accent. "Gotta be in a suitcase."

"It's cool. I'll just buy some on the way to the hotel."

"Just remember not to ask for rubbers. Otherwise, you'll have a handful of erasers."

"Thanks, but I've been to England more than once, thank you." Then, with a hint on blush at his cheeks, he added, "That only happened once. Besides, we're going to LA first. Not like sex is off the table."

"I'm on my period, so yeah, it is. I'm not leaving the bed looking like we committed a human sacrifice. Again."

Her husband – she spotted the rings – nodded in agreement, as his blush quickly paled at some memory. Then he caught Kenzie's stare and shrugged. She smiled, understanding both of their plights. There had been more than one vacation ruined by picking the wrong time of the month to go.

Beside her, Brian was trying not to laugh, and barely succeeding. The sight of him losing it was refreshing. Despite their relaxed camaraderie, he was still usually professional, only rarely being open like that. It was cute. It also helped get her through the next part.

They finally took off before the storm got too bad. However, the flight was still long and turbulent, and at one point James held her hand until she relaxed. Behind them, the couple joked and drank, eventually making out for a full hour before passing out against each other. It made her hate leaving Jeremy on such a sour note even more.

When they touched down in California five hours later, she was ready to jump out the emergency exit. She didn't feel safe until they reached baggage claim, where she could lull her senses into a stupor by watching the conveyor belt slowly rumble by. Her suitcase was one of the last. She thought about grabbing her bikini and finding the nearest beach after checking into the hotel, but she saw that the sun was already setting. So starting her tan was out for the day.

"Here's the plan," said Brian. "We check into the hotel, grab a bite, then head to the CEO's office."

"Is he expecting us?"

"Yeah, but just by the end of the day. No set time. He's setting the meeting up for tomorrow."

"What hotel?"

"Hilton. I got us a good room, overlooking a park."

That was fancier than usual. They usually stayed in the cheapest place they could find a deal for. He got them a taxi, and together they waited in the early evening on the edge of the drive. People hustled about, one tourist screaming, a couple making out – same one from the plane, she realized – and kids threatening to jump into traffic. A typical day at the airport. She looked back at the couple and remembered Jeremy again. She always called after a flight.

"Hey, honey!" She had to shout to be heard over the cacophony around her. Brian jumped when she did it, not even realizing she had taken out her phone. She smiled, both in apology and humor, as her husband responded.

"Survived again, I see," she thought he said. Her phone was turned up all the way, and yet his voice was too tinny to catch every word. So she surmised the missing gaps. "How's Brian? Is he still sane?"

The humor was forced, but at least he was trying. She grinned as it perked her up a bit. "I'm sure his therapist is going to have an earful Friday. How's work? Are you busy?"

"Nope. Caught me on my break. It's pretty slow today." She imagined him in the restaurant, where he was a manager of a very busy family-owned place. A slow day for him was a sports night at Hooters. "When's the big battle?"

"Tomorrow. I'll probably be too rattled and into preparing to call you beforehand."

"I'll wish you luck tonight. Stay safe."

"Love you!"

Brian pretended to gag when she hung up the phone. She was still flipping off her boss when the taxi pulled up. After loading their suitcases into the trunk, he held the door for her, like always. He could be an ass, but he was always a gentleman.

She watched the city fly by as the taxi driver broke as many laws as possible to get them to the hotel quickly after Brian promised a hefty bonus for expediency. It was almost as bad as flying, but she was grateful. She needed to rest properly, and prepare her notes. Besides, she had been in such a hurry to get off the plane and out of the airport that she had skipped the restroom. Her bladder was a tad pissed about that.

"You two on vacation?" asked the driver.

"Business. Got a big meeting."

When he pulled up to the Hilton, he whistled. "Well, at least you have a nice place for some relaxation and celebration afterward. Enjoy yourselves."

Brian leaned in toward her and whispered, "I think he's got the wrong idea about us."

"Then correct him," she hissed back.

"Why don't you?"

She glared at him. But she didn't tell the driver the truth. Who cares if some stranger thought they were lovers?

They got out of the car and hurried to the lobby, where she tried to stand still and be inconspicuous as Brian got their key. Then, she nonchalantly rushed for the elevator, politely shoving aside a party of old German women who twittered angrily as the doors closed on them. The twenty-first corridor was empty, so she wouldn't have to barrel into anyone on her way to the room. As she ran stiff-legged, Brian began snickering while trying to keep up. Cursing softly, she waited by the door for Brian to hurry his slow, middle-aged ass up. He unlocked the door and let her in. Tossing her bag onto the bed, she was about to get into the bathroom when she noticed something – there was only one bed. Apparently, his splurging on the accommodations ended with the view.

"Seriously? We're back to cheapskate time?"

"Sorry about this," he said. "I pushed our budget to the limit just getting this room on short notice."

"Hey, as long as I don't wake up with you spooning me again, we're good."

Brian actually blushed a little, hurrying to the balcony glass door to busy himself opening it. She rolled her eyes as she recalled the feeling of something rather large and hard pressing against her back two years ago. It hadn't been just morning wood, either. He was gyrating his hips, pressing it into her, moaning his wife's name. She had lied there, frozen, a small part of her considering just letting him finish. At the very least, she stole a peak, a fact she never told him or her husband. And it wasn't just to look down at the tent his boxers had become – she pulled them open to see, and was quite impressed.

She bit back her grin despite having shut the door between them. Out in the room, he told her to go ahead and get everything settled as he went off to make a few phone calls, let the company know they made it and find out the final schedule. Kenzie let him leave without moaning about being relegated back to his assistant. Besides, she wanted some time alone to relax, and start preparing herself for the task ahead.

Plus, she suddenly felt a shiver building between her legs after replaying that memory. It didn't go away even after relieving herself, so she tried pacing back and forth across the cramped room. That did nothing, as she figured it would. Frustrated, she plopped down on the bed, thinking.

Her husband had been coming home exhausted for so many weeks, they'd skipped out on anything more than a ten-minute quickie before bed, and nothing for the last three days. Since she was going to have the room to herself for a couple of hours, she decided to get it out of her system. The pillows had silk covering, or at least a good imitation. That'll do, she thought.

Setting up her laptop, she played the first recording of the meetings over this account, and stripped off her pants and underwear without ceremony. It wasn't as if she needed to get any more in the mood. And Brian usually spent at least an hour on these calls, always making one more to his wife at the end. As the dull voices of her coworkers and bosses droned on, she climbed onto the bed, stacked two of the pillows, and straddled them. The sixty-year-old COO wasn't a smooth enough talker for her, so she propped her phone up on the headrest, and found a picture of Jeremy standing shirtless. Next to Brian. It had been a get-together at the beach last summer, when the men had a nice tan.

The cool, smooth fabric felt wonderful on her pussy, sending a tingle of pleasure before she even began moving her hips. Going slow, taking her time, she slid her crotch back and forth along the pillow, her ears on the meeting, her eyes on the picture of two gorgeous men. It didn't take long before her mind began creating a movie, especially when Brian's voice took over the presentation. She fantasized about her husband and boss leading her to a secluded spot on the beach, and taking turns. Her hips began moving faster without her thinking, pressing down in the soft fabric, grinding. She reached down and slipped two fingers inside, hurrying herself along as the recording finished. With a gasp, she had a brief spasm, feeling only partially satisfied.

Afterward, she lied back to catch her breath. A few moments later, when she'd wiped herself off and put her shorts back on, she headed for the bathroom to wash up. However, she discovered that she wasn't the only one who needed a release. Brian was busily trying to finish himself off when he noticed she had walked in.

"Oh, fuck! I'm sorry, I am. I just... you were making so much noise..." He released his cock for a moment, letting it fling, too stiff to fall down. He covered himself with both hands and turned away quickly.

She held up her hands to stop him. "Whatever. Don't mind me. Just, uh... when did you come in? You never said anything."

"Yeah I did!" His hand had slowed, but was still caressing his cock as he looked at her. More than once, his eyes dipped down to her chest, the shirt and bra too thin to keep her nipples from poking through. "You had on your headphones. I said your name three times before leaving you be."

He seemed to realize what he was still doing and tried to stuff himself back into his pants, which looked quite difficult. It was too stiff, and too large. She stepped back out of the bathroom and closed to the door, standing there to listen for when he was finished. He was much quieter than she. That was unexpected, and rather impressive. She felt a little jealous of his wife as she waited for the bathroom to be clear. When Brian was done, he stumbled out, having the decency to act sheepish as he apologized. He may be taller than her by a head, but she was able to stare down at him even when she had to look up.

Once he was good and ashamed, she started snickering. "Sorry, it's cool. I was pretty riled up in there."

"It's not completely your fault. Lena and I... well, it's been awhile. A long while. By the time we both get home from work, it's dinner and bed."

"I can relate. Trust me. Okay, let me wash up a bit more, and let's go eat. Any nearby hotdog stands?"

It was his turn to flip her off. Then he told her they'd driven past one about two blocks away. However, she decided against cheating on her diet with a street vendor and opted for sub sandwiches. Along the way, he explained that the reason his calls had been so short was due to the night's meeting with the local company man being canceled, and his wife not answering her phone. He assumed she was out with her girlfriends, and was never available then. The two of them chose to walk instead of hail a cab, finding the take-out place to be more than a few blocks away. But the walk did her good, even if night had fallen long before they got their food to go. It wasn't as cool as she'd have liked, but it was a dry heat, so they weren't slimy with sweat by the time they got back to the hotel.