Banksters 48: Who’s Screwing Who

I called Julee into my office.

“Erection?” she asked.

“Yep. Even if you’re doing a racist Chinese impersonation, you’re still right- though it’s just in poor taste. But how'd you know?”

“I have a sixth sense about these things. Plus, anymore, when you call me in here, there's an erection involved.”

“I thought you liked to stay informed.”

“Oh, I do... but some of the naughtiness is gone, now that Princess Whitebread isn't one cheap corporate wall away from 'Oh, God, yes, give it to me right there, un, un, un!'”

“I'll have what she's having.”

She sat down in my lap like I was Santa Clause. “And right now I'm more curious about why you have a beautiful erection, than what we might do about it.”

“George is challenging me for control of the company. Which could be difficult, and awkward. Except he's been embezzling from the company, to prop up his flagging campaign. And he's been embezzling from his campaign to keep a hooker on retainer; she actually lives with him.”

“Okay, now I'm wet, too. But this information's reliable?”

“I just finished tracing the money myself this morning, right before my meeting with the board. And the hooker... her I recognized. Some clients, especially German ones, like to celebrate the conclusion of a multimillion dollar deal by screwing an eighteen year old stranger.”

“You don't have to lie for me” she leaned in close and kissed my neck. “You got a little harder when you mentioned her.”

“Professional courtesy; you ought to know the, ahem, merchandise, is good before handing it out as a party favor.”

“You not having to lie about it isn't synonymous with me wanting you to drone on about the time you banged a hooker. My girly boner's starting to go soft.”

“Stand up, then.”

“Ooh, I like it when you get bossy.”

“Well I am your boss,” I said, standing behind her with my hips pressed against her.

“And that makes it even naughtier,” she said, sliding her panties out from under her skirt.

“Now bend over the keyboard with your fingers clawed outwards.” She did. “Now type.”

I unzipped my pants and lifted up her skirt. “The 'paper' trail is all open on my desktop, for you to peruse.”

She took hold of the mouse. “My God. It's not even well done frau-od, that's good. Of course, looking at where these came from, if Richard hadn't been deposed, we probably never would have had access to this information. He was just... cocky.”

“Was that a sex pun?”

“Not an intentional one.”

“Good. But I don't hear the clicky clack of little fingers on littler keys.”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to type with you thrusting behind me?

“Now that one had to be a sex pun.”

“Maybe a little- and that one definitely was.”

“You are cruel.”

“Good. And you need a little cruelty in your life.”

“Maybe I do at that.”

She finished most of the report fifteen minutes before we finished each other. But she still had to call Caprica, and give George's campaign a chance to respond, before she sent it in to her editor. “I’ll wait to do that part until I’ve caught my breath.”

She emailed the reporting to herself, so she could finish it in her office, then left. That was George taken care of, or at least taken down enough of a peg to ensure that he wasn’t going to have the clout. But I knew the twins were going to require a little more finesse.

Of course, after their Uncle’s public shaming, they were going to want less to do with him. And that would make everything easier.

It’d been a busy day. I’d taken over Richard’s secretary, which was a little odd. I think he’d been screwing her, once upon a time, and for whatever reason she seemed to believe I would take up with her now, silvering hair and added weight and all. It was a toss-up, I’d say, between M & K- but only because she looked like a woman who could bake a good cookie, and I do love chocolate chip cookies.  

When I got home, my apartment felt emptier than usual. And for some reason, my mind drifted to the last time Petra had been in my apartment. I felt bad. Perhaps I even missed her a little. But this was no life for her. Even if she could have overlooked what I was, ignored the fact that we were fundamentally different animals, she wouldn’t have been happy. And now, hoping she hadn’t completely fucked up her career, she’d have that chance.

But I didn’t get to wallow long. I heard Julee’s key in my front door. She was wearing that trench coat again, but I could tell from the awkward way she moved, and the way she tried not to show that she was shivering, that was wearing very little underneath it. Something frilly, I suspected.

But the look on her face wasn’t at all sexual. “Being with you, it’s impossible not to become paranoid. You use people, like moist towelettes, then discard them. It’s something I admire about you. But it’s hard not to come to the conclusion that I’m outliving my utility. And I’m sure by now you’ve read my book.”

“You don’t even bother locking down your computer when I’m there. It was almost insulting. Not as insulting as the way you portrayed me in the book- if I were a more melodramatic person I’d have styled it ‘betrayed.’ But I’m assuming you’ve brought one honker of a boot you’re planning to let fall out of that trench coat.”

“Well,” she said, and reached into her purse. She placed a small white vial on the edge of the table in my breakfast nook. “After everything with Alice, I thought, maybe you’ve made inappropriate advances on me. And maybe I felt pressured into a sexual relationship with the new CEO. That vial is physical evidence. I figured worst case scenario I get one of those golden parachutes. But best case, I lock in our arrangement without having to worry about backstabbing red-headed usurpers.”

“You really are like Woodward and Bernstein- only with much nicer breasts.” It was just a small amount of semen, in the vial- but I saw it for what it was: a bluff, and a weak one at that. “And that’s an interesting rub. But I think you’re done with this relationship. You wanted me to want you- though I think the next line in the song is closer to the truth: you needed me to need you. Yet, you’re the one trying to blackmail me. You realize the truth, here: you need me, and sorry to say, but I don’t think your ego can handle that. You won’t be able to work with me anymore, because seeing me, even if it’s only fleeting, will be a reminder of what you’ve always feared: dependence.”

“I’ll be sad to see you go; I had that wanting part down, even if I’m not sure if I have it in me to need. But you’re a beautiful apex predator, and you’re going to do fine out there in the wild.”

“One last screw?” she asked, opening up the trench coat. Frilly, stockings, a garter belt, a corset that did very nice things to her curves, all in a very deep red.

“I wouldn’t ask you to go cold turkey; I’m not inhuman.”

She screwed my brains out. No holding back, this time- because there was no longer any point in keeping anything in reserve. I was bleeding more than a little, from the biting and her fingernails. It was intense enough that I passed out straight away when we finished.

She snuck out after that. I went to the office, since I knew that was where she'd be. She was going through my computer- not that there was much of anything left on it, except a lot of misdirection. “I never really expected you to go so quietly into that good night; I wouldn’t,” I told her. “You and I, we’re both creatures of premeditation.”

“You spent more than a year just getting yourself into a position to gather the information you needed to write your book. But I found myself wondering: what would you need for that kind of espionage? And also, because our legal department isn’t retarded, what would they have done to prevent you from having what you need?” I snapped my fingers. “Your nondisclosure agreement.”

She couldn’t help herself:  she smiled. “Which went missing.  Except for the copy in my desk.” She opened the top drawer, and stared down at it. And she reached for it, wondering if she could simply tear it up to free herself. “And the dozens of copies I’ve made of it since.” Her hand relaxed, and she pulled it back.

“But what was more interesting, was this.” I walked behind the desk and loomed over her, took my mouse out of her hand, and pulled up a video file on the desktop. “Security footage of you rifling through personnel records-”

“I was looking for Alice’s home address,” she protested.

“A relatively small transgression, but also in that same area, we keep hard-copies of interdepartmental memos, some of which contain classified client secrets- which again, on their own, are not terribly important or damning. But in combination with what’s in that side drawer,” she opened it up, “receipt for the purchase of $10,000 worth of stock from a pharmaceutical company a day after we found out that the FDA had approved their leukemia drug, in your name- but a couple of days before that news went public. These are all your copies, for your records.”

“And I’ll admit, insider trading is petty; we Elliot Spitzered George, and I honestly wish, now that I’ve gotten a chance to know and screw you, that I’d planned out more than a Martha Stewarting for you, because you really do deserve better. The NDA guarantees no one will ever publish your book, but if you’re thinking of going rogue, putting it on the internet or turning it into an ebook, the insider trading should keep you at bay.”

“But I hate to see hard work wasted, and I’ll admit Im narcissistic enough that I think I’d enjoy seeing my story in hardback. So go ahead, publish it under a man’s name, and label it fiction, and I bet it’ll sell like gangbusters. But if you try to pass it as investigative journalism, I’ll destroy you. You’ve watched me do it a dozen times to other people; sometimes you helped. But each one of those transactions, were business. If you cross me on this, because of our relationship, it would offend me, personally. And you’ve never seen me personally offended. And I’m sure you wouldn’t like to.”

She stood up, out of the chair, and faced me. “It’s okay to need. You don’t have to be king to be a terrible lizard.” She kissed me.  

“You still need me?” she asked, her lips trembling.

I sighed. “I need you to get the hell out of my office.”