Tuesday, 31 July 2012

Trust tuesday.. so you can catch up.

A while ago I started this on another blog. Now I think it's worth finishing. First though, I'll give you a chance to catch up...

Trust Tuesday! What the fuck was she playing at? Gail Porter she wasn't. She'd been blond.
After a near miss with the car park entrance, James had the car parked, in his designated place, engine off and his mobile out in record time. It was answered just as swiftly.
"Oosie? What the fuck is that all about. On the side of my headquarters, for God's sake. How the hell do I go in and face my employees now? After they've all looked at a five storey high projection of your rear?"
 Not that it wasn't a bloody gorgeous rear and an amazingly pert ass, that wasn't the point. The fact it was on show in its all it's five storey glory, where the world and his wife could see it, including all two hundred plus employees of Clancy International was. Especially with the bye line... 'See what you are giving up?' She was even peering over her shoulder, long russet hair pushed seductively to one side.
"Like it?" The voice was light, bubbly, and he hoped with a little bit of tension in it. Well if it wasn't now, it would be soon. "I told you, Jamie, you'd learn what you're missing. Your loss."
"Get it taken down. Now. And for fucks sake do not call me Jamie"
"No can do, Jamie my love. Agree to either of your oh so delicately couched demands. Sorry. I'm not there, I'm here. You're there, and really I can't believe you haven't ordered it to be removed."
Neither could he. It should have been his first action, instead of confronting her. She didn't sound the least bit sorry, rather gleeful and teasing, damn her. Why couldn't she accept it was over?
"Oosie." He warned. "Give it up. I've told you, it's a no go."
"Never. If it doesn't bother me, why should it bother you? You're a coward Jamie Clancy. A wuss. You're denying something beautiful and great on a stupid sense of chivalry that I don't even want."
"It's over." He reiterated. "Accept it."
"In your dreams, Jamie. Check your office." The phone went dead. What the hell did she mean by that.? Tuesday Anna-Maria Benedetti was proving even more stubborn than he was.
He opened the door.
He stared.Stared and glared. What the hell was that? More to the point, how did she arrange it? Behind him, he heard his P.A. clear her throat nervously and stifle a laugh.
“What the f...?” She did laugh then, and he turned round and stared at her instead of the room that had been his orderly office.
She shook her head, a forty-something, elegant, super-efficient and happily married blond, most of his execs were more than half in lust with her.
 “Nothing to do with me. I only got in five minutes before you, and being the non-pc person I am, I was getting the coffee machine going. I hadn’t opened your door. So sorry, no idea, but um, it’s certainly different.”
Oh it was that all right. Different was an understatement.
“Get maintenance up here.” He said grimly. “And find out who was responsible for this, this fiasco.” He waved his hands in disgust.
Miriam laughed again, her eyes sparkling.
“I’d say Tuesday, wouldn’t you? Trust Tuesday to think of something like this.”
Trust Tuesday. Huh, he’d trust her all right. Trust her not to accept his diktat and make his life... Make it what? Interesting? Difficult? Brighter? Happy? No James, do not go there he told himself. It’s over. Your choice. If she can’t accept it, that’s her choice.
“Just get maintenance, Miriam,” he said wearily. He ran his hand over his short cropped hair, quashing the spark of amusement that tempered his irritation. What the hell was he going to do? “I’ll take my coffee into my lounge, and read through the Wilkins report. We'll work in here and the lounge until that.” He waved his hand in the direction of his office, “that whatever you call it is sorted out.
She nodded and handed him a mug of coffee strong enough stand the spoon up, before picking up the phone. James turned around, away from the irritation of his office, had a thought and turned back to Miriam. “Oh and get someone to remove Tuesday’s attributes from the side of the building will you? Thanks.”
He moved across the office, and opened another door.
To walk straight into another irritation.
“Tuesday. What the fuck are you doing here? Dressed, or hell, undressed like that? Now what the fuck is this?" James stared. For one moment he thought he was hallucinating. 
"Your nemesis, my love. I told you, you're screwed. I love you J. You said you loved me, and then you blow me off because I was too young. Or so you said. Too young, or because the way I earn my money for uni doesn't fit in with your starched corporate life style? Boring J. Very, very boring. and I thought better of you."
He watched one bare shoulder lift and fall. His cock tightened and he felt the papers he was holding slip from his grasp
"For fucks sake Oosie, this is my office, you're sat on that settee knickers half off and say ..." He was lost for words.
"That I love you?" She offered helpfully. "I do you moron. Our age difference is bugger all. It's my work you can't hack. Be honest. Having a girlfriend, fiancee wife like me is a no go according to you." He winced, and she grimaced. "You asked me, " she reminded him. "I said yes. I haven't changed my mind, but I can't change my age and I bloody won't change my proffession. Build a bridge and get over it."
"Or? Breech of promise doesn't exist any more." He was taunting her. "Shall I strip off and show you what your recalcitrance means you are missing?" His hands went to the top of his trousers.
"Oh please do." She was all but purring.
Enough. "That's enough Ossie. I can't accept this and so it's better we split. If nothing else it shows how unsuited we are." He watched,as her face fell, defeated.
"You think so?
He sighed.
"Ah Ossie, I know so."
"Oh well. So be it." He watched in fascinating horror, as she finished removing her hot red panties. underneath was a bright red thong. Her top followed and she stood up. Proud in her undress. Red stocking, red thong and red nipple tassels. All the accessories for the lap dancing club she worked at. 
"What the fuck?"
She smiled. sex, lust and sorrow? All mingled there.
"Ah Well, J. I'm late for work." She stood tall and proud. In horror he watched as she opened the door, her body on display for his gawping employes, who if by osmosis had gathered in the corridor.
As she reached the door she turned.
"Darling." Her voice as befitting a drama student carried to all  corners."You were magnificent."


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