Just One Night, Part 3: Binding Agreement Read Free

stand, naked in front of the mirror, I realize that this is how I’m going to feel all day. Naked, vulnerable, embarrassed. I can think of no reason why Tom would have left quietly. By now what happened between me and Dave will be all over the office. And the focus will undoubtedly be on Mr. Dade’s role in the breakup. Both Robert and my coworker Asha have assured me in their different ways that I will be moved into Tom’s job. My professional achievements have been impressive but not enough to have earned that honor, so it’ll be rightfully assumed that I earned it on my back. Those who are my equals today will report to me tomorrow but they will still see me as a slut who will make herself sexually available to any man who might advance her.
    And how many men will test that theory? As long as I’m with Robert, perhaps no one. But without him every executive will feel that he has the right to take his place. They’ll expect me to spread my legs for my career.
    And of course there’s Mr. Freeland, the cofounder of the company and Dave’s godfather. Surely I’ve made an enemy of him. He has to tolerate me due to Robert’s influence but for how long? On how many fronts will the attacks be coming from?
    I should hate Robert for putting me in this position. But as I roll through the memories of last night, being underneath him, feeling him pulsing inside of me, remembering how he looked afterward, by my side, naked and perfect . . . well, I don’t hate him.
    So with shaky hands I pull on a conservative light wool suit in black paired with a white chiffon blouse that ties in a prim bow at the neck. Thin armor for such a battle but it’ll have to do.
    When I get to my office, Barbara is ready for me. Reports have been printed onto glossy stationary and held together in deep blue folders. I have a meeting in less than a half hour.
    I go through my in-box. There’s a memo announcing Tom Love’s departure. Odd to think that was only yesterday.
    The message explains that until Love’s replacement is named (which will be within days) we are all basically being left to our own devices. If any of us have a question that needs an immediate answer or a project that needs the input of management, we are to e-mail Love’s superior, Mr. Costin.
    Love’s superior. I can’t help but smile at that. Those words could mean so many things. But my amusement quickly wanes as more pressing issues consume me. So they’ll be naming Tom’s replacement in days. And yet no one has even called me. Maybe Robert, Asha . . . maybe they’re wrong. Maybe Tom’s job will be offered to somebody else.
    And if that’s the case . . . I can’t decide if I’d be relieved or profoundly disappointed. I should probably be the former, and if that’s how it goes down, that’s the emotion I’ll show the world.
    But deep in my gut? There will be a rage of disappointment. It shouldn’t be that way but I don’t think I’ll be able to help it.
    At nine thirty sharp my team files in to review and prepare for the Maned Wolf presentation. Taci, Daemon, Nin, and Asha all have their roles to play, details they will explain, questions they’ll be prepared to field. But in the end they’re just backup singers. Tomorrow is my day. I will be the one to rise or fall.
    They’re looking at me differently . . . but not with judgment exactly. All of them, with the exception of Asha, seem nervous. When I ask a question, they jump to respond, their eyes anxious; then they sigh quietly in relief when I toss out words of approval. There are nuances, of course. Taci appears a bit curious, Nin’s apprehension seems tinged with disapproval. When I stand, Daemon’s eyes seem to linger on where my skirt hugs my hips. When I send him a questioning glance, he immediately looks down at the floor, bending his head as if in prayer . . . or in shame.
    They all know. But they’re not testing me and they’re certainly not mocking me.
    They’re afraid of me.