Without limits ssion and.., p.50
Without Limits: A BWWM Collection of Passion and Desire, page 50
“I can trust you.”
“Yes, your company does background checks on its employees and we are also fingerprinted.”
His top lip curled. “That is true.” He placed the credit card in my hand. “Don’t buy a house.”
“There’s enough on the card to buy a house?” I probably shouldn’t have said that.
“You will have access to an Audi. The car belongs to the company. Therefore, it belongs to me. Do not damage my vehicle. There’s a car waiting for you in the underground parking garage. Sharon will give you a key.”
“I’ve never had a car accident.”
“I don’t care about your driving history. Take care of the things I lend you.”
“Yes, of course.”
“I still don’t think this is going to work.”
Duh! Don’t think about it. “I’m sure it will.” I pressed a smile out of my anti-smiling lips.
“You certainly aren’t anything special.”
“I wasn’t trying to be special. I’m just trying to do my job.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. I had a slick mouth and that wasn’t going to change. Sure he was the boss but I’ve had plenty of bosses in my life.
“Were you issued a company cell?”
“Yes.”
“I can track your whereabouts from the cell and the car.”
“Okay.” I involuntarily shrugged.
“Leave my office.”
I scurried out of his office. He wasn’t that bad. I was lying. He was far from welcoming. He was a big-time jerk. But who cared. I needed mucho dinero.
Chapter Three
I was supremely proud of myself. I got through day one without a scratch. Trubeau talked to me like I was gum on the bottom of his shoe but I ignored him. He ate the lunch I bought for him without any tantrums or protests.
Boss man didn’t give me much to do on the first day. I wasn’t complaining. I was counting my blessings and chilling. I was thankful for this promotion. I had a new wardrobe and an eighty thousand dollar Audi that I was allowed to take home with me.
Monday was a breeze so I hoped Tuesday would be the same. I got to work on time with his special coffee. A vanilla bean latte prepared just the way he liked it. When the tyrant texted me with one word—coffee, I knew I had to get off my ass.
I hurried down the hall to give him his premium blend cup of Joe. Maybe vanilla bean made him act civilized. I was going to soon find out.
His office door was open so I entered. He was standing with his back to me. He was looking out the walled window and out into the world. Before I could speak—
“I don’t give a fuck!” I saw his cell phone up to his ear. He wasn’t talking to me. “You tell him to get his shit together or look for another goddamn job. No, fuck that! I don’t give second chances.”
I loathed rich, rude assholes and Mr. Trubeau was that in a nutshell. I actually didn’t know any rich people so that wasn’t true at all. I wanted to back out of the room without being noticed but he had summoned me to bring his coffee. This wasn’t a life-changing dilemma but at the moment I didn’t know what to do. Did he want the coffee or did he want to shout profanities into his cell phone?
I kept my eyes on his firm backside. He had a really nice ass. I tried not to stare but I didn’t have anywhere else for my eyes to land. His back was broad and muscular. I could see how fit he was through his blue button-down shirt. His hair looked darker than yesterday. Maybe it was wet. I didn’t really get a chance to inspect him yesterday. I was too nervous. I was just trying to survive his hazing or whatever that silliness was.
It was wrong to look at Mr. Trubeau the way that I was. Like he was a real man, a dateable man— a sexy man. So I quickly looked down at my new shoes. I took a tiny step backward. He didn’t even know I was there. I could just silently exit. I could make a run for it. I was going to just come back in a few minutes.
“Where the fuck are you going?” I stared up from the carpet and right into his artic blue eyes— eyes that jumped out against his tan skin and dark hair. In a millisecond he was in my face. How did he get to me so fast?
I wasn’t able to think when he was so close. He gave me an evil glare. How could an evil glare be that sexy? Magic?
“I was going to just come back later,” I whispered. He was clearly still on the phone.
“Give me my fucking coffee. That’s what I pay you for.” He waved his hand around in a dismissive way before turning his back on me.
Bastard!
I put his java down on the desktop.
He strolled around his desk and dropped his toned ass in his black leather chair. He spun it around. I guess so he didn’t have to look at me. Not a problem. I didn’t want to see his ass either.
This would be the first time in my life a man was so blatantly impolite to me. There was only so much abuse I could take. I didn’t like him cursing at me. He hadn’t really reached the limit with me. I could take a bit more of his stank ass attitude before I kicked the shit out of him. Money was money. I needed money. If I could just get through the first week I’m sure he would simmer down. As long as he see’s his bullshit doesn’t affect me he will calm all the way the fuck down. Hopefully.
You would think that having money would make you a nicer person. No way, not Mr. Trubeau. He was a real jackass. He better be glad he has his good looks and his money to fall back on. Without those two key elements he wouldn’t be shit.
I was back at my desk in no time flat. Something was going on. He was going off on someone and I was glad it wasn’t me. I had a few tasks on my second day. I had to get his lunch. This time he had a special order. I picked up his dry cleaning. I scheduled his hair appointment. I sat at my desk and binge-watched a few episodes of Safe on Netflix.
I was going to have a much harder day tomorrow. Trubeau let me know in an email that I had real work to do on Wednesday. So far, I still liked this job. I didn’t have a problem running around like a chicken. I hated being cooped up in the dank mailroom. I had my own office with a window and all the other little advantages that came with working for a big boss. I even had a free gym membership. I may use that membership but not right now. I loved ice cream too much for the gym at this particular time in my life.
Mr. Trubeau let me go home at five. I was feeling okay about day two with the boss until I stepped into the elevator. My old boss Martin Turner was standing there. I had never had any real problems with him but he wasn’t exactly the person I wanted to see. He was a little too familiar and too touchy-feely. In the past, I just ignored him.
“So, you got a promotion I hear?” Martin asked although I knew he had the answer.
“It’s not really a promotion. I work in another department.” I tried to smooth it out when I shouldn’t have to explain myself at all.
“I have to do your job and mine until they send me a replacement.”
“I’m sorry Martin. I had to start this new job right away.”
“So you’re working for the big boss.”
It’s his company. Technically we all are working for him. “Yeah.”
“How is he?”
“I don’t know. I just started yesterday.”
“I heard he was bad news.”
Bad news? I didn’t understand what he was getting at and I wasn’t interested. I couldn’t wait for the elevator doors to open.
“I signed papers. I can’t talk about him to anyone.”
“Not even your old pal.” We were far from pals.
“No, not even you.” Martin was only about ten years older than me. He was all right looking but he wasn’t my type. He was a light-skin Black man with freckles and curly hair. He might even be bi-racial. I never asked because I didn’t care. First, he wasn’t my type in the looks department. Second, he was very married.
Ding! The elevator doors parted and I darted out of the steel box. We were both in the same underground garage so Martin followed me out. I had my own parking spot that was close to the elevator door. I would escape this uncomfortable small talk soon enough.
This was going to be an awkward parting and I knew it. I had to pop the locks on a brand new Audi while Martin’s jealous ass was near.
I didn’t have a choice so I did it. The lights flashed and the cat was out of the bag.
“So this is your car?”
If ever there was a good time to use the N-word, it was now. “No, this is a company car. I have an old Toyota Corolla.” I got so tired of shrinking myself so others could feel bigger.
“Damn girl you are really moving on up. I believe I deserved that job.”
First off, most men can’t deal with being bossed around by another man in the way that a personal assistant is bossed around. If Trubeau had a dog I would probably have to walk it and pick up dog shit.
Martin was the supervisor of the mailroom because he likes telling people what to do. I don’t want to be in charge. It’s nerve-racking. I was the assistant manager at a clothing store when I was younger. I wanted to punch every employee that couldn’t follow the simple rules. Being the boss was super damn stressful. Who knows why Trubeau acts the way he does.
“Martin, I don’t know why you feel that way. I have to go.”
Martin purposely walked too close to me. He made me bump into the Audi to get away from him. I almost dropped my laptop bag.
“Jerry Fletcher got you that job. Are you fucking him?”
“Martin, what is wrong with you?”
“I’m pissed that you got a better job than me.”
“Running around getting coffee is a better job?” I was trying to be cool when I was just a heartbeat away from hitting him with this fucking laptop and cussing him and all his kinfolks out.
“I know someone in human resources. I know how much money you make. You make a lot more than me.”
“Look, I don’t know how much you make and I don’t care. It’s none of my business”
“I bet you sucked Jerry’s dick.”
“I bet that’s also none of your fucking business.”
“Bitch!” Must men always through that word out like it’s an insult? He shoved me hard up against the car. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
I tried to swing my purse at him but he swatted it away. I twisted my ankle but I managed to stay up on my feet.
“Martin, take your ass home!”
“So now you’re giving me orders?”
“Get the fuck on or I’m screaming rape.”
“Don’t give me any ideas you back stabbing hoe.”
What? That doesn’t even make sense.
“Leave me alone!” I raised my voice and he got the message. He shoved me one more time, just so it was painfully clear he was a bitch-ass, bitch-made, trash bag, light bright, ninja fucking turtle.
He backed away and walked off like he didn’t physically assault me. But that was exactly what happened.
If I become a card caring member of the #MeToo movement. I’m going to also become a member of the #CommitedAHomicide movement.
I tossed my purse and laptop in the passenger seat and jumped inside the guaranteed security of the car. I peeled out of the parking garage mad as hell. God was going to have to grant me serenity or forgive a murder. I wanted to kill that punk.
Chapter Four
“You’re wet.”
It was the first thing that came to mind when I walked into Trubeau’s office with his vanilla bean latte. He was standing in his office wearing pants. His hair was wet and he was drying his shirtless torso with a bath towel.
I tried to look away but I couldn’t. He had abs forever. Eight abs exactly, I counted them as fast as I could. They seemed to appear in high definition 4D.
“I took a shower.”
“You have a shower in your bathroom?”
“Yes.”
“Why were you dirty?”
I knew I had stepped over the line. It was too late to take the question back. Sex— it had to be sex. Why else would he be showering at work this early in the morning?
Trubeau glared at me. I watched him towel off his damp hair before tossing the towel in the wastebasket. His gray shirt was carefully laid over the back of his chair. He picked it up and started putting it on his model-like body.
“Do you really want to know?” He walked over to me with his shirt on his body but open in the front. I could see a little trail of hair marching from the front of his pants and up his abs.
“Instead of working out at home I came in early for a meeting with Jerry Fletcher. The meeting ended early and I was able to get a workout in at the gym down the block. Do I need your permission to shower in my own office?”
So this was the sarcastic version of Mr. Trubeau.
“No, of course not. That’s silly.” I was too flustered. My mind was turning into a vodka-filled Jell-O shot. “I just was shocked or startled.”
“Clearly, you’ve been ogling me the entire time you’ve been in here. I assume you’re here to give me my coffee.”
Shit! I looked down at the designer paper coffee cup in my hand. “Right, here.” I shoved the cup into his bare chest.
Trubeau took the coffee. “Is it hot?”
“Not too hot. Not too cold.” I sort of giggled. Why was I acting weird?
He took a sip of his coffee and licked the access off his lip with his tongue. This man was sexy. Now I was curious. I wanted answers. My big mouth was going to get me fired but he was so close to me and the workout seemed to put him in a different mood. I would label it as a semi-good mood.
“Mr. Trubeau, what happened to your previous assistant?”
“Do you really want to know?” Huh, was that his catchphrase? I’d never ask a question I don’t want to know the answer to. Who has time for shit like that?
“Yes.”
“I don’t think she could handle the fast pace. Her work ethic was terrible. Apparently, she had other things going on. She quit on a Friday and flew to Vegas and married a man twice her age on Saturday. I believe she didn’t want a career. I think she was one of those young women that wanted to be taken care of.”
“Oh.” I didn’t expect to hear all that.
“Do you want a career?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want a man to take care of you?”
“I don’t know. I want to have my own money. Every woman wants a man to support her. It’s not always financial. There are many ways to take care of someone.”
“I have to keep you here late tonight. I’m having a dinner meeting in the conference room. Is there a boyfriend that’s going to be pissed at me for making you work late?”
“No.”
“Really, you have no one waiting for you?”
“No, I don’t.” Nosey much?
“Well, that’s good for me. I get to have you all to myself.”
“Yes, it’s good for you. Can I leave now?” I needed to catch my breath and break out of his charming little web.
“I never called you into my office in the first place. Leave.” He turned his back on me and just like that he was back to being his asshole self.
I left his office and went right back to mine. I loved having an office.
The day was long. I was able to go out to lunch with my former co-worker Marcella. She worked in the mailroom and I had to tell somebody how my ex-supervisor Martin clowned me in the parking garage. Marcella hated Martin. She thought he was a piece of shit and she was a gossip so she had all the dirt on people. She was seeing Hector, a guy that worked in human resources so Martin knew better than to mess with her.
She told me Martin had a baby with a teenager that his wife didn’t know anything about. Her receipts were the child support payments that were being taken out of his payroll check. I didn’t know if it was true but it felt good to sit down and talk shit with her. She was Mexican and Dominican and the only friend I had at this job. Marcella told me I should file a sexual harassment case against Martin. But honestly, it would just end up being a case against Trubeau Technologies and I wanted to keep my job.
Lunch with Marcella made me feel better. I just wanted to make a good impression with my boss. Trubeau was entertaining tonight and I didn’t want to mess it up. Trubeau was having an evening meeting in the conference room with some of his colleagues. I had to order dinner and make sure the room was tidy. I had to set out the food and drinks. I had to basically host a casual dinner party for four. I knew I could handle it.
Three stuffy White men showed up around seven. They were all dressed business casual. One man even had on jeans. I escorted them to the conference room. I could feel they were checking me out. It didn’t bother me. I was used to men looking at me. I made sure I was well put together. I was curvy. They definitely had something to ogle.
My ass was hard to hide and my breasts were a little more than average. If a man was into fat asses I had the deep brown version of J.Lo’s ass with thick thighs to match. If they were into big boobs I had that too.
Usually, White men tactfully took quick glances at me. It was barely noticeable so I’d just ignore them and go on with whatever I was doing. Even though Trubeau told me his visitor’s names, there was no way I would remember them. I thought of them as the short man, the pale man, and the tall man.
One was the pale man because he didn’t have any tan although we were in the middle of summer. The pale man’s eyes followed me the entire time I was in the room. He probably has a thing for milk chocolate women. I didn’t have to serve them but I was advised to stay close by if I was needed. Close by meant in the adjoining room. I set the food and drinks up buffet style so I was sure they could handle everything on their own.
All the talk was about the business of Trubeau Technologies. I heard them talk about expansion, outdated products, manufacturing in China, and a laundry list of things that made me sort of proud of this self-made millionaire. Trubeau was only thirty-two and he had built an impressive empire all on his own.
When they all left the building Trubeau went back into his office. I cleaned up all the food and trash. I knew we had a cleaning person for that but I took it upon myself not to leave a mess for the next woman. When she arrived in the early morning she would only have to grab the garbage bags I left in the hall by the door.
