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She had done it, of course—had there ever really been any doubt? And she had done it with a good three or four seconds to spare. Everything was exactly the way it was before.
At least, as far as the computer records were concerned.
Marcia smiled to herself as she walked into her office—exactly on time, as always—and sat in-or, more accurately, crouched over-her desk chair. She wouldn't be actually sitting on anything harder than a pillow for several days yet.
They had both outdone themselves in those last few minutes: he standing over her, giving her heavy, open-handed slaps on her bare behind, she discovering that in some strange manner it really did sharpen her focus—the figures and data flying ever more quickly into her mind and out through her fingers with every blow even as she was moaning out loud, tears streaming down her face. Both of them knowing what was going to happen the moment she was through and both of them struggling to restrain themselves until that moment.
And what a moment it had been: At the very instant she had punched the 'Enter' key for the last time and sobbed, "Done," he had reached past her, shoved the computer aside and without ceremony or regard for her aching behind flipped her onto her back on the desktop and roughly spread her legs. Then he had literally popped the button on his pants in his haste to get them open—and probably ruined the zipper as well—before, with a loud cry, he had plunged into her.
Interestingly, she had noticed no pain in her nether region at the time...
Or the second time—on her hands and knees on top of the desk, with his hips slamming against that same delicate area of her physiology...
Or the third time, when he'd...
She was snapped out of her reverie by the arrival of the interdepartmental mail. Among the usual forms and folders was an oddly bulging manila envelope, which Marcia immediately tore open. Inside it was a letter, printed on official company stationery...and the red lace panties she had been wearing on the previous night.
Marcia blushed to the roots of her hair and quickly stuffed the envelope into a drawer before turning her attention to the letter. There was little doubt about whom it was from...but she began to frown at the formality of the language.
Ms. Fischer, it began,
As I believe you are aware, the impending merger of our two companies has made your department redundant. Please be advised that your services as Head of Accounting are no longer required, effective immediately.
Marci stared at the letter, her mind a complete blank. He had promised...well, not exactly promised, but after last night—after everything that had happened, everything they'd...he couldn't possibly be such a cold-hearted, unfeeling...could he? She shook her head and forced herself to read on.
However, the letter continued, due to other restructuring caused by the merger there is a new position being created: Vice-President in Charge of Financial Planning—a position for which I believe you would be ideally suited.
If you are interested I would like to discuss the parameters of the job in more detail with you at your earliest convenience. My schedule is extremely full today however, so please meet me this evening at 8:00 in the CEO Suite. Sincerely...
Below was his signature, followed by a hand-written post-script:
FYI: Your first assignment will be to assist me in finding a suitable venue for this year's corporate retreat. We leave this Friday to do on-site research in Barbados. I trust you'll be able to sit down for the duration of the flight by then. See you tonight... -J.
Marcia Fischer, Head of Accounting, hated having to work late.
But Marcia Fischer, Vice-President in Charge of Financial Planning, absolutely adored it.