I'll Do Anything, Sir Ch. 03

“Mandatory Meeting. 2:00 PM. Today. Large conference room. Send email.” Michelle read the Post-it note on her computer screen and wondered why Attorney Derek Proctor was calling for a mandatory staff meeting with no warning. It was an early 9:00 in the morning, and Mr. Proctor hated last minute anything, especially last minute, unprepared for meetings. Michelle sent out an office wide email and leaned back in her desk chair, chewing on a pen cap and tried to figure out why they were having a surprise meeting. The firm’s business had been steady, if not growing, so certainly Mr. Proctor wasn’t planning on firing anyone. Were they merging with another firm? Was another attorney going to be promoted to partner? Was someone leaving?

“Hey Cindy,” Michelle called from her cubicle to the blonde on her left, “any idea what this meeting is about?”

Cindy turned, her bob haircut swooshing around her tanned neck. “No idea,” she shrugged, “maybe Proctor’s retiring? He made five million off that Campbell settlement last month. Maybe he’s leaving? I still can’t believe they got five million dollars from that BS case.”

Michelle smiled. “Yeah, me neither.” After the surprising and undeserved settlement from two insurance companies, Mr. Proctor had treated the office to lunch at the swankiest restaurant in town, followed by surprise bonuses. Michelle was quiet when the secretaries gossiped about what they received for a bonus. Michelle’s bonus had an extra zero at the end.

But oh, if the office only knew what she had to do on Saturdays for that extra zero. For months, she was Mr. Proctor’s… well… sex slave? The slave part was slipping away week-by-week. Michelle was enjoying her overtime work with Mr. Proctor. The harder he worked her, the more she loved it.

She turned back to her screen, trashed Derek’s note and continued to work. The hours ticked by slowly as the office began to hum with curiosity. Derek had been behind his closed office door all day. No one could hear what was going on behind those sound proof doors. He hadn’t even popped his head out for a lunch break. At 1:55 PM, the staff slowly rolled into the conference room in one large wave. They all sat around, pens and paper and cell phones in hand, waiting for the boss. At 2:05 PM, Derek stepped inside the conference room and closed the door.

Michelle’s breath caught in her throat. Derek was smiling, beaming in fact. His smile was a positive sign and everyone in the room seemed to release a silent sigh of relief. The boss looked healthy, younger even. Gone was the scruffy half-beard he kept constantly trimmed and neat. His hair was combed back and his figure seemed even taller and prouder than ever.

“Everyone, I have some great news,” he announced. “As you know, I have been discussing the future of this law firm with some important people. People who can help this firm grow and expand more than I could have ever thought possible. With our name, their expertise and their financial backing, I know this firm can become one of the most recognizable in the city within a matter of five years.”

Everyone was stunned. Expanding the firm? No one had even thought of it as a possibility. Commercials, billboards, bus signs. All of them, featuring their name, their pictures. More cases. Higher salaries. Tenure in the company, promotions and more. There was an unspoken buzz of excitement around the room.

“I’m going to have to meet with Michael and David tomorrow. Michelle,” his eyes locked with hers. Tension crackled and his eyes stared glittering. “I need to see you in my office to go over travel arrangements for our visitors.” Michelle nodded, her red hair bobbing up and down. She bit the tip of her tongue to stop from smiling. She was sure travel plans weren’t the only thing he wanted to go over in his office. “I’ll let you all get back to your work. Michelle, meet me in my office and bring a pen and paper,” he ordered and left the room.

She hurried after him, pen and paper already in hand. She walked into his office and closed the door behind her. He stood behind his desk, both palms pressed flat against the wood. “Sit,” he ordered. She obeyed, crossing her legs, revealing a glimpse of her lace top thigh highs under her dress.

“I’ll need you to book three round trip tickets for our guests. They have to be direct flights. I don’t want to inconvenience them with stops. Get first class seats and put those on my personal credit card. Book them their own separate rooms in the Sheraton. I have a discount there, and make sure they have all the accommodations they will need. Let the hotel know these are important people so the rooms better be clean. No problems, understand me?” He fished around in his suit jacket and pulled out a black Amex card.

Michelle’s mouth watered a little at the sight of the tiny piece of plastic. She blushed and nodded. He handed her the card, which she tucked into the pocket of her dress. “Good. I’ll want breakfast and lunch ordered here to the office when they are here as well. Also, there has to be entertainment while they’re here. That’s where you come in.” Michelle stopped writing and looked up into his flashing eyes. She felt her palms begin to sweat. This was not good.

“Michelle, I think we’re almost finished with our little arrangement. You’ve been paying off your debt for months now. I think we can call it finished, on one condition.”

One condition? Entertainment? Finished? Michelle mind whirled. What was he thinking?

“You’re going to entertain our guests the same way you’ve been entertaining me for the last few Saturdays. Three very important guests need special accommodations after all.” He smirked as he leaned closer, towering over her shaking figure.

“What?” she squeaked.

“You’re going to be the entertainment. This is how it’s going to play out. You’re going to wear a special outfit I bought you. It’s in that bag in the corner.” He pointed to a plain brown bag, with no labels or hints. “You’re going to wear what’s in the bag next week, the first day they are here. You’re going to be a perfect little Mad Men secretary, all smiling and cheerful. And you’re going to work overtime. Now, when the rest of the office leaves, I am going to offer to take you and our guests to dinner. You will be polite. You will be friendly. And you’re going to get yourself very drunk on my tab. Then we are going back to their hotel, where you will entertain them. Somehow. Someway. And when they are done with you, take a cab, or spend the whole damn night with one of them and buy new clothes in the morning. I don’t want you doing some slut walk of shame into work the next day Do you understand me?”

Michelle’s red lipped mouth gaped open like a fish, too dumbfounded to speak. She nodded, stood, and took the bag.

“Oh, and Michelle,” Derek called, “I won’t need you working this weekend. I think you’re overtime can be better served next week. Enjoy your Saturday.”

************************************************************************** The week went by in a blur. On Saturday, Michelle went to the gym, cleaned, cooked, and did everything she could think of to distract herself from the upcoming Thursday—the day the firm’s visitors would be coming and the night she was dreading. But this was her chance to be finished with Derek and their “arrangement.” As much fun as she had with the man, she wanted to Saturdays to herself again.

The work week sped by and the visitors were comfortably checked into their rooms. Michelle had seen to it when they walked into the office on Thursday. Mr. Wilks was a tall, sturdy black man, shorter than Mr. Proctor, but younger. He looked like he had been a good football player in college. And he was handsome, so much so that Michelle almost didn’t mind the arrangement Mr. Proctor was planning.

Mr. Jameson was a tall off the boat Irishman, with a thick brogue and thicker eyebrows. His flaming red hair was bright enough to see down the block, but he looked good for a middle aged man. A little heavy, but nothing horrid about him. He was a pleasant man who enjoyed jokes and laughing. He kept touching Michelle’s shoulder and calling her “sweetheart.” Michelle wondered if Derek had told them about the arrangement.

Miss DeFleur was a gorgeous, skinny woman with mile long legs, soft brown hair tucked into a modest chignon and perfectly pink lips. Her tight black dress showed barely there cleavage and soft curves. What could Michelle possibly do to entertain her? The answer stuck her when Derek met with her and kissed her twice on the cheek. She was for him to entertain tonight, judging by the dapper smile and his flashing eyes.

The meeting had seemed to go well with the attorneys. The paralegals and support staff were interviewed one by one. Numbers were examined and crunched behind closed doors. The day flew by with little interruption to the daily office routine.

At six o’clock, Michelle smiled and said good night as each person filed out the door, leaving only her, Derek and their three guests. “You sure you can’t meet up for drinks tonight? I mean, it sucks that Derek made us all stay an extra hour. Maybe you should unwind a little?” Michael asked as he shrugged on his suit jacket and started walking towards the door. Michelle shook her head and apologized. She had to work overtime.

She smoothed down her tight red dress, with her generous cleavage threatening to spill over the top, the slit in the back so high that someone could almost see the tops of her stockings or a strap of her garter, courtesy of Mr. Proctor. She reapplied her lipstick, smoothed her hair in her small compact mirror one last time and knocked on the partially open conference room door where Mr. Proctor was meeting with their guests. “Come in,” Mr. Wilks called out.

“Hello. Sorry to interrupt, but your dinner reservations are in twenty minutes.”

“Michelle, do you have plans tonight?” Mr. Proctor asked right on cue.