Page 8 of Handling the CEO

Arriving at their downtown office this morning—after double and triple checking I had the right day and address—I was impressed by the glass building at the edge of the business district, close enough to the local airport and the McAv factory and testing facilities. Sleek and modern, mostly open plan, done up in bright greens and orange colors with fancy chairs and various areas of comfortable sofas and tables for collaboration sprinkled between desks. Conference rooms line one side of the floor, and offices with glass doors on the other, probably for management.

When I made it to the CEO’s executive assistant desk, the scared young woman, whom I thought was a bit familiar, mumbled some excuse for her boss, who apparently was not ready for me. Ms. Jones showed up out of nowhere and the girl scrammed. I barely caught a look at the EA, but I did notice the freckles on her nose, partially hidden behind some massive, unflattering glasses, and blonde hair, which could use a wash, in a low bun.

The VP, however, was a lovely lady in a well-suited gray dress and pumps, who was genuinely excited to see me but somehow also happy to cover for Dick McDickface. I assume he obviously forgot about our session this morning, probably being caught in some penis measuring contest.

Unfortunately, just as last week at the shop, the Man was still hotter than sin. A black suit and a white shirt with no tie, with an inkling of his golden chest showing as the top button was undone. Again, with his saucy green eyes and long-ish hair I wanted to grab him with both hands and drag his mouth to lick his lips as he pummels my pussy.

Also, as last week, he is a complete jerk! After his last comment I was just about to say the job would not work out and walk out of there with my head held high instead of tackling him on the office floor and riding him into oblivion.

But what Michaela said gave me pause.

“Me? What do you mean?” I ask as she picks up the remote and turns on the TV on the wall on a local news station.

The reporter is cheerfully explaining an impromptu press conference from Lex Aviation, a rival airline to McAv, which recently moved its headquarters to Florida from New York. Seeing Jon’s anger level rise as he clenches his fists and breathes heavily, I suspect he was not happy at all with the move.

I did actually have a meeting with her two weeks ago, but the CEO there wouldn’t budge on owning the software and also something about her gave me the literal creeps. So, I thanked her for her time and walked out. She was quite unhappy with my reluctance to just roll over and hand her my work on a silver platter, without even being recognized for it.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the CEO of Lex Aviation, Miranda Lexington, and her new IT & Data management Director, Richard Simmons.”

“What the hell!” Both Jon and I say at the same time and glance at each other, surprised at our common outburst.

“Good morning, so glad you could be here with just half an hour’s notice. I know it is unusual, but we just couldn’t wait to give you all the good news which will take the aviation world by storm!” Ms. Lexington, with her perfect dark skin and contrasting white pantsuit, is the epitome of perfection, but something in her sleazy smile caused me to be wary of whatever else she was about to say.

“Fucking bitch! What the hell is she pulling?” Jon rumbles next to me.

Back in the conference room, the dark-haired, tall man is sitting by Miranda’s side with a brilliant grin. Or as I’ve been known to call him, a toad of a man, he approaches the microphone and starts, with his perfect baritone voice.

“As some of you are not familiar with me, I am the newly appointed IT and Data management Director here at the best aviation company in the world.” Jon huffs at that. “But what you may or may not be aware of is that in the past few years I have been working on a new and exciting software you all should hear about!”

I blanch holding on to the chair in front of me. “Oh no,” I gasp and Mike and Jon stare at me… “the slimy snake!” I put it into words with uncontainable anger.

“The software, I like to call ‘Zephyr’”—jackass he stole the name as well—“will be the best weather predictor in the industry and will minimize fuel consumption by 20%!”

“What the actual fuck, the son of a bitch! My goddamn ex-husband!” My wrath was now beyond limits as I approach the TV, but I couldn’t hear what he was talking about anymore, just seeing his snarky smirk and Miranda’s fake-ness on display.

“Care to explain why your ex is announcing a better weather predictor than you just tried to peddle, but for my biggest competitor?” Jon is prancing around the office absolutely furious, but his assumptions were about to land him on his ass.

“Cool your jets, boss-hole,” I say through my teeth. “He does not have the software and no way it can save 20%. What he has is the court-mandated half the code I wrote.”

“What? You came to sell me half a code when your ex has the other half? And you had the gall to ask for ownership?” His green eyes were burning with displeasure.

“Oh, get down from your high horse! He managed to convince his judge buddy in L.A. to get half in the divorce as presumably he ‘helped’ create it. But the idiot didn’t think to specify which half or how it will be portioned!”

“So?” He is again towering over me with hands against his waist in his favored superman pose which, on a different day, would cause me to melt.

“So… genius…” I wave my hand about and poke him with my finger—damn those hard pecs. “It means he got a randomized half version of my code! It should take him years to put it back together! I can do it in a couple of months, as unlike him, I actually created it! I have no idea what possessed them to announce it now. They are years away from anything viable, and no way is the savings realistic... he is full of shit!”

“How you expect me to believe that today of all days they decided to present it when you showed here for an interview? How do I know this isn’t some setup between you and your husband to get access to my system while he gets with that shark, Miranda, and you take both our money?”

“Listen here, you jerk; I would not work with Richard, the smarmy bastard if he had the last computer in the world! He can burn in hell for all it’s worth—he is nothing more than a common thief!”

Before we both much into further yelling at each other, however, Ms. Jones intervenes and literally separates us as though we are children on the playground.

“Right kids, I think your tempers stop you both from seeing what I’m seeing! This may be a golden opportunity for all of us here!”

We stare at her and then glare at each other.

She continues, “So Dahlia, shall I assume all you would like after this morning—besides to kick Jon in the nuts...”

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