|Patrick C. Crowell
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AN EXCERPT FROM HOSTILE ENVIRONMENT
Frustrated, the executive vice president of Legal buzzed
a different woman—a
legal secretary he knew would also be working late.
Marta, come in for some dictation, please,” he said.
Marta Delong snatched her pen and pad, wondering whether she’d really
need them, and marched out of her office with purpose. I was right to stay,
she thought. He’s going to be my way up the ladder in the company.
She thought about his former administrative assistant—he’d openly
described her as eye-candy and, à la Trapper in M.A.S.H., a “sultry
wench.” What a fool she was, Delong thought, remembering how the woman
had quit abruptly without explanation. I know why she left. So much the better
for me. I’ll land her job and it’ll only be a matter of time before
I convince him the legal department needs an office manager. She thought back
to her interview with him last week. The other girls don’t have a chance.
Delong walked through his door, and he again locked the door, this time not
She looked at him in triumph. He wants me again, she thought. She didn’t
know, nor would it matter, that she was his second choice that night. I want
his power. Quid pro quo.
He watched her strut in, but wished she were better looking. Her tall, frail
body slouched as she moved to him. He focused on her pale, freckled skin and
thin, jet-black hair, which always looked dirty to him. But it didn’t
matter. Sunken brown eyes made her look tired, and there seemed to be a perpetual
longing about her. Perhaps that was it—he knew she’d latch on like
a suckerfish to a shark, and clean up whatever.
He grabbed her to him and planted his mouth on hers. His hand molested her
small breast and she reached for his groin, her dull eyes almost alive.
Some people make love, she thought as she endured his animalistic acts, enjoying
her power. Some have sex.
Copyright © Patrick C. Crowell 1995-2004.
All rights reserved. Rev. 3-2