Office Duties Box Set #2 Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Part 5 - Nice Ride

  Part 6 - After Work Activities

  Part 7 - Growing Pains

  Part 8 - Loose Ends

  Other Books

  OFFICE DUTIES BOX SET #2

  by

  Mac Flynn

  SMASHWORDS EDITION

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  PUBLISHED BY:

  Mac Flynn on smashwords.com Copyright (c) 2013 by Mac Flynn *****

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  Note: This story contains sexually explicit material, and is intended only for persons over the age of 18. By downloading and opening this document, you are stating that you are of legal age to access and view this work of fiction. All of the characters involved in the sexual situations in this story are intended to be 18 years of age or older, whether they are explicitly described as such or not.

  Sam was rudely awakened by a loud rapping at her door. She fought with the bed covers for a good minute before she got herself free and scrambled to the door. Whoever they were had stopped and she feared she missed them as she peeked through the peep hole. She was shocked to find Mr. Smith on the other side, and she hesitantly unlocked and opened the door a crack. She was still in her pajamas and not quite decent to accept any visitors.

  "Good morning, Miss Olsen," he greeted when he noticed the door open.

  "'Morning." She wasn't sure this was a start to a good morning. She wasn't even sure it was morning yet. All the hall lights were still on and it was still dark outside.

  "Mr. Davies would like to apologize, but he was wondering if he could speak to you privately for a few minutes, perhaps even over breakfast?" Sam had her doubts about whether much speaking would be involved, and the secretary could see them flash across her face. He smiled. "Speaking only, he promises."

  "Well, I guess." This was a highly irregular way and time to meet, even for her strange boss. Sam looked down at herself, and then back to him. "Um, did you want to come in?"

  "I can wait out here until you're dressed." This guy may have been terrible at messing with clothes and videotapes, but he had a way with reading peoples' expressions.

  "Thanks, I'll be right out."

  Sam quickly shut the door and ran for the bedroom. First she glanced at the clock and her mouth dropped open when she saw it was only six in the morning. She groaned, but there wasn't much time for complaining. She slipped on some clothes as best she could and dashed back to the door with her purse in hand and coat draped over her arm. She felt a little dirty for not having taken a shower, but her hair was tightly tied back and she could take one later as Slinky's apartment during their lunch. Even with her hurrying, it'd still taken till six-thirty to get back to the door.

  "Are you sure you won't want a little more time?" Smith kindly asked her as he glanced at her slightly unruly hair and scuttled wardrobe.

  "No, I'll be fine. I've been doing this the last few days, anyway." She appreciated his kindness, though.

  "Very well, if you'll follow me."

  Smith led the way down the stairs and outside onto the street. A long, black limo stood parked there and he politely opened the door. She hesitated for a moment to enter as she looked around the street. This early in the morning there was no one out but mail boys and early commuters. There was no one close at hand and familiar to notice her getting into a strange vehicle with a relatively unknown man.

  "Perhaps you've had a change of heart, Miss Olsen?" Mr. Davies voice rang out from inside the vehicle. He peeked out and gave her a warm smile. "This will only take a minute, and then I'll make it up to you with a warm breakfast."

  "All right."

  This was making her more and more uneasy as she slipped passed the open door. She seated herself opposite her employer as Mr. Smith shut the door behind her. The area was dark except for one light overhead, and the darkly tinted window dividing the back from the driver was closed. She also noticed the windows on either side were heavily tinted and she couldn't see out of them. She also noticed the distinct lack of the musky odor. She'd expected to be hit with the stuff in such a small space, like in the elevator, but there wasn't a single whiff of it in the air. She was relieved, but there was a small voice in her head, a very small voice, which was disappointed.

  "What was it you wanted to see me about?" It was just too early for many formalities. Sam stifled a yawn.

  "I'm sorry for getting you up so early, but you're evenings seem to be becoming occupied with your friend, Miss Slink." Sam wondered about this new worry from him about her schedule. He'd never minded before interrupting anything she was doing to have a 'conversation' with her. "I wanted to ask you how you were liking your new position." Sam blankly stared at him before she let out a great, hearty laugh. He smiled and let her finish her merriment, but he was greatly confused. It was a nice change for Sam for him to be confused and her in the know. "What seems to be so amusing?"

  "I'm sorry, that wasn't very nice of me," she apologized as she wiped tears away from her eyes. "It's just your question."

  "And here I thought it was straightforward enough," he replied with a smile. He wasn't mad, but he was still in the dark. "What made it so amusing?"

  "It's just you got me up to ask me how I was liking my job?" She caught herself before she started to snicker again. "Here I thought it was going to be something really big and important."

  "I can see what you mean." Davies leaned back and still appeared amused, but there was a seriousness underlying his smile. "However, I am curious if you're liking your new position."

  "It's...it's definitely different from my last one." Mostly because of the person who was even now seated opposite her.

  "But do you like it?" he persisted.

  "I could get used to it." She wasn't meaning to be evasive, but she hadn't been at the job long enough to give him a straight answer. She'd need more time, probably another few weeks, before she could give him an honest reply. He seemed unnaturally interested in her satisfaction, and she secretly hoped it wasn't just to appease his sexual appetite. "Why do you ask?"

  "Well, I have duties as an employer to make sure all my employees are satisfied with their posts," he diplomatically replied. She saw a big opening for some great teasing.

  "So if I wasn't happy with my salary, would you give me a raise?"

  "Well, it depends on how you're performing your duties," he objected. "I would often ask the supervisor how an employee is getting along before I gave them any bonus." Sam cringed when he mentioned the higher authority. That was one part of her job with which she wasn't satisfied. He noticed. Hell, even a blind man could see the animosity between the two women. "I'm afraid there is one part of your job you're not liking too well, is there?" She hesitantly nodded, and he sighed. "The elevator ride yesterday was very uncomfortable, wasn't it?"

  "I think I'm too slow for her tastes, Mr. Davies," she suggested. "Or maybe she liked the last person in my position better." Sam didn't really believe what she said in that last statement, because of the rivalry between her position and Winkle's job, but it was an idea.

  "You're too modest, Miss Olsen." She blushed at his compliment, but he seemed disturbed by the c
old relationship between the two women. "Perhaps I should have a talk with her about her responsibilities again."

  "Again?" She blurted it out before she thought, and she had a feeling so did he when he suddenly tensed up.

  "Yes, well, Mrs. Winkle is excellent at her job but she often forgets her duties to fairly enforce the rules to all employees under her charge." Sam translated that diplomatic bullshit into saying she was too useful to get rid of but she lorded over those beneath her. "But that can be taken care of. For now we should think of a good place to breakfast." He glanced at his gold watch. "However, we might be limited by what's open at the hour."

  "Maybe just fast food?" she meekly offered. Her suggestion was a little odd considering the high-society companion to whom she was talking. For his part, however, he was a little intrigued with her proposal.

  "Perhaps that would be interesting, though would you mind if we ate in the car?" He smirked as he sat back and waved his hand around the interior of the vehicle. "I have to keep up perceptions."

  "Oh, that's fine, I don't mind." The car was comfortable enough she wouldn't mind doing most anything in here. Within reason, that is.

  "Then I'll leave the ordering up to you," he suggested. "I'm afraid I'd order something terrible and be roundly mocked by the other patrons."

  "It's not that bad if you mess up, but I guess I can order for us both." She figured she couldn't go too wrong with the basics. "But don't go threw the drive-thru, I hate ordering through that thing." He gave her a quizzical look, and she shrugged. "I can never understand what the hell they're saying." There was also the worry that he wouldn't let her out, and she wanted to test the lengths of her freedom.

  Davies let out a laugh and then instructed Mr. Smith to drive them to the nearest fast food place. The food was procured without trouble and Smith pulled over at a spot no doubt semi-reclusive for them to eat their extravagant meal. It was quiet in the car as they ate their meal, and Sam noticed he didn't seem to have much appetite for what she'd brought. He noticed her eyes on his half-finished muffin.

  "I often only eat a little for breakfast," he comforted as he wrapped it up and put it back in the bag. "You can save quite a bit of money by being frugal, and I'll finish it off when lunch comes around." This allayed her worries only mildly, but there was nothing else to do but agree.

  Sam took a few more bites of her food as she glanced around the comfortable car. She did notice there didn't seem to be anything distinct with the interior, nothing to show that it specifically belonged to her boss. Remembering how personal his office had been, she wondered if the omission of anything so him here was deliberate.

  She still wasn't sure if he didn't have anything else he wanted to ask her, also. That single question about her liking her position was a little unbelievable.

  "So, um, sir-"

  "Please call me Davies, if you must keep some formality."

  "Davies, then." He smiled his pleasure, but she wouldn't be distracted. "Was there something else you wanted to ask me, or tell me? I mean, you get me out of bed real early just to ask me if I was liking my job?"

  Davies seemed to be expecting her inquiry as he smiled and turned to the window. He pondered for a moment before he sighed and shrugged.

  "What use is it to hide something from someone so close..." he muttered to himself. Sam swore she saw his eyes grow darker as he glanced back to her. "What do you know of the supernatural?"

  "That's a vague question," Sam protested after a moment's surprise. She wasn't sure how to respond to it. "There's a lot of stuff that's called supernatural."

  "Are you superstitious?"

  "Not really." She emphasized her words with an indifferent shrug. Ghosts, demons and such didn't really scare her, especially since she'd never had a personal experience with any of that stuff herself. "It's all just kind of an excuse to get yourself scared silly for Halloween." She meant it to be a joke, but it fell flat on her target audience. He turned away and didn't speak for a few moments, and she had the distinct feeling she'd said something horribly wrong. Perhaps he was very superstitious and felt insulted by her kidding around. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

  "No, you meant to say it," he countered, but not in an unkind voice. "In this day and age it's hardly surprising to find someone who doesn't believe in the night terrors like past people did." He sighed and shook his head. "It's merely...disquieting to see such doubt in what their ancestors so doubtless believed. It's as if science has wiped away the very concept of darkness and light to replace with an ambiguity more frightening than any nightmare." Sam could see he'd thought a lot on this subject, but she really couldn't say the same. On trying to climb the corporate ladder there wasn't much time for thoughts on the existential. "Perhaps science has even replaced them both as a source of the old nightmares and dreams."

  "Science does a lot of good for a lot of people, too," Sam pointed out. She couldn't really let only bad be said of science. It helped too much in their daily lives. "It helps us understand what people used to think was magic and unnatural."

  "You have me there, Miss Olsen," he joined with a laugh. "Science is the great known which seeks to penetrate the great unknown."

  "So why are you asking me all these questions, anyway?" she persisted. "What's superstitious got to do with my job?"

  "Not specifically to your tasks, but to your supervisor." This intrigued Sam, as she could understand he was referring to Mrs. Winkle. "I may as well warn you that Mrs. Winkle is very superstitious," he explained. He smirked as he leaned back in his seat and shook his head. "She tends to say things which may not make sense to many other people. I wouldn't put very much weight into her words when she goes on these tangents."

  "So is she a little crazy?" The way he was making it out to be, Winkle would go nuts at the first sign of some black cat crossing her path. If that was true, her feelings about her job just lost some good points.

  "No, she's harmless." He was smiling at her suggestion, but there was something in his demeanor that left her unconvinced. "Just a little...a little odd."

  "And demanding," Sam added.

  "Well, try your best and there will be no reason she can demand you be demoted." He raised a brow when he noticed her tense hands in her lap. "There's something else you want to ask me?"

  "It's just...I..." She shifted in her seat, but he patiently waited for her to get out her question. "It's just...why did you want me?" She raised her head and looked him in the eyes. "Mr. Slink told me you were the one who got me the job. Why did you pick me over all those other people? Some of them must have been better at the job than me."

  Davies folded his hands across his lap and looked down at them. His fingers intertwined with one another as he sought to properly phrase his reply. He let out a small chuckle and shook his head. His eyes looked up into her own.

  "He saw something in you."

  This would have been a revelation for her if she knew who he was talking about.

  "Who saw what in me?" Now she had two questions to ask instead of one. It was like each time she asked something, it would split off like the heads of the hydra.

  "The president." Sam jerked back at this new revelation, and he was amused by her shock. "You didn't think he ignored those in the main office, did you?"

  "Well, it's just, um..." There was just no way to be diplomatic about her opinion. "It's just that I thought he was too busy running the company to give the time of day to any of us."

  "I can assure you he takes a great interest in everyone who works for him. He just prefers to remain out of the limelight for privacy purposes. That's why he has me handle a majority of the company business."

  "So why did he want me to get the job?" She felt a little embarrassed at having gone off the wrong information.

  "He noticed your file and instructed me to hire you. He could see you had the patience to handle the position from the videotape they took during your interview."

  "I must have looked like a deer in headli
ghts on that thing," she brushed off.

  "You may have, but your real self still showed through," he pointed out. "And that counts enough from him."

  "Is there any way I can thank him? It's the least I can do for giving me such a cushy job." She had a hint of tease in the last part, but she really was serious. She wanted to thank the man who'd had enough faith in her to give her this great future.

  "As much as he'd like that, I'm afraid the president is a little busy until next week," Davies informed. She was a little crestfallen, but his smile cheered her. "He could make some room in his schedule next week for a lunch date, if you're available."

  "Any time, just give me the day." A twinkling grin spread across her face. "But you might have to stick to my usual lunch time, or Winkle will complain to the president about me."

  "I think you'll have a good excuse for not being available." Davies glanced at his watch and frowned. "It looks like I've kept you longer than intended. We might want to get to the office before it's too late."

  "What?" Sam looked down at her wristwatch and was surprised when it showed a quarter till eight. "Wow, that was fast."

  "Time travels fast when you're having fun," he teased. He leaned to his side and pressed a button on a panel near his right hand. "Mr. Smith, you might want to get us to the office."

  "Yes, sir," came the voice over the intercom.

  The engine started and they were on their way back to the office. Mr. Davies had one more topic to discuss, however.

  "There is one small request I want to make of you, Miss Olsen," he lightly pleaded. "And that is that you refrain from discussing this conversation with others." She opened her mouth to reply, but he held up his hand for silence. "I know you confide in your friend, Miss Slink, quite often, and this is why I'm asking for privacy here. I also know this visit would be considered highly irregular and very suspect to anyone not in the know, and that's where silence would probably be best for us both." He gave her a pointed look. "Silence on all matters."

  "If you want it that way," she hesitantly agreed. She didn't feel right in making such a promise, but there would be more damage done if she spoke out, both to herself, the company, and Mr. Davies. He graciously smiled.