Multi chapter one shot, don't forget to check out my profile page. Enjoy the fic.
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Russell Edgington was a dark haired menace that paraded through the walls of his firm eying every hopeful that he could crush underfoot. His employees called it prowling and in a faithful sense of the word it was true, but it was only because he could. He passed closed doors of his offices and strolled through the aisles of cubicles everyone looking committed to their jobs clicking away on their keyboards. He entertained playing with one of the interns having had the pleasure of making a strapping six foot red head named Cliff cry once. It was talked about for a month until Cliff couldn't take it anymore and left and the gossip sated the boss long enough for everyone to go to work without being under the radar of their boss's petty indulgences.
In his grey tailor suit he stalked aimlessly hoping to be inspired and driven to torment someone because he was compelled to do so, not because in a frustrated moment he chose someone at random to hurt. It was a reckless way to wreck havoc and he loved to ruin someone's day in a structured way to be able to recollect every detail late that evening when loneliness creeps up and snags him and he forgets that being popular with money doesn't guarantee all the creature comforts.
"You look up to no good," he heard someone say as he admired the pecks protruding from a typist that was he vaguely recalled of Arabian descent.
Her vanilla blouse hung off her body loosely, but there was much to admire with what was hidden underneath. Her charcoal gray pants hugged her body and he looked around the room to see quite a few eyes went up to admire her sauntering into her domain. Admiring the backside of the associate that caught his attention he followed her into her office sitting in the corner of his couch slamming the door for dramatic effect.
Pam raised a brow at the door then her mischievous boss, who smiled unapologetically at the whispers stirring outside. As if they didn't have anything better to do than wait for him to make someone else cry or ruin one of his most cherished employees day.
"For effect," he shrugged crossing his legs to excuse the slammed door. His checkered socks showed.
Her office was decorated with pastel colors and glass accents that were most multicolored globes he found himself admiring every time Russell had time to visit. They were made by a local artist whom she adored. Though, the name wasn't memorable enough to remember.
"You're making them paranoid."
"They work better that way I read it in an article."
"Seriously Russell, so soon after the intern incident."
His excitement grew and leaned forward on his knee, "is that what they're calling it?"
"You're an executive," she reminds him in a sing song fashion looking over her emails on her laptop. "Act like it."
"Pam I think you are dangerously close to being too conservative for your own good. Have a little fun. Have mind blowing unsafe sex and contract an STD, not a serious one, the kind that goes away after a couple days when it you put a little cream on it or swallow a pill."
The blond haired woman leaned back in her chair examining her boss with a bemused grin, "I'll find another replacement for you at the Kids Camp this summer. You're going through something and I forbid you to be around people."
He considered, "is it that obvious?"
She nodded her head slowly, "Raphael won't return my calls. I think he's seeing someone new."
"Are you two exclusive?" Pam had a feeling she already knew the answer when she asked the internet mogul.
Pursing his lips he grabbed one of her glass globes feeling her eyes boring into his with annoyance. She hated when people touched her things. He began playing with them admitting slowly, "we aren't, but at the very least he should have the courtesy of telling me who else he's seeing."
"Why?"
Russell clutched the globe, "because," he started and ended leaving that as his best argument. He came in totally unprepared to defend his childishness.
"Call him," she stated leaning back to her desk to finish sorting through her emails. It didn't matter if Russell, her boss, was the one distracting her. Pam was responsible for her productivity for the day. She would prefer it to be done well before the eight because she promised her parents she'd make an appearance before nine.
"You call him."
The woman snorted clicking with away at the options on her screen glancing at her boss, "I'm not sleeping with him."
"How do I know?" Russell stated petulantly.
"You won't know anything if you don't call him."
Russell pulled out his phone unlocking it scrolling down his contacts until he found Raphael's number, "act like my secretary."
Pam acknowledged his request with an annoyed glare. "No."
"Act like my secretary or you're fired," he threatened speedily as the phone rang on speaker. She hoped it went to voicemail to save her the humiliation of doing what he told her. Unfortunately, she wasn't that lucky.
A male voice with a pleasant Hispanic accent answered, "hello, who is this?"
"I'm…I'm calling on behalf of Russell Edgington," she refused to call her his secretary. "I want to make sure at that your reservations at the Willows can be confirmed for Friday night."
"The Willows," the Hispanic man repeated, "That sounds expensive," he whistled like the words had been meant for someone else.
Pam looked up at a smug Russell who'd written the name down a sticky not passing her notes to follow word for word.
"Could you tell him I won't be able to attend," he answered slowly and unsurely sounding more like a man undecided rather than someone who was sure they didn't want to be treated for an evening.
A cloud darkened Russell's face and in hopes of salvaging the conversation Pam steered it to another night, any night he was available. To which Raphael answered in a vague way that his schedule was full and that Russell should call him if he wanted to set up a date properly. He bid her a goodbye right after he wished a good day.
"What the hell was that?" he began pacing furiously.
The blond marketing director shrugged, "you should call him yourself next time," she slides Russell back his phone. Her boss seemed unusually preoccupied one man when he'd been known to entertain several at a time. Open relationships were brought up in conversation to safeguard himself from his wandering eyes that often gets him into trouble. Her boss was incorrigible, but she adored him when he wasn't hiding away in her office or using her staff as an emotional punching bag because he was feeling down.
"Obviously he's sleeping with someone else."
Pam shook her head her elbows on her desk with her hands clasped together half praying half begging, "I beg you if you go down this road don't involve me in any of your schemes."
His eyes widened, "that hurts," he pressed a hand to his heart where his ring finger sat on his hand staring back at her and she knew that he would find a way to involve her. "Does he sound like he's interested?"
"He doesn't sound like he's not interested," she shrugged.
Russell thought this over. Today was Wednesday with plenty of time between now and Friday to get answer or even better plenty of time to volunteer someone to go to this infamous Loft Party Raphael would be attending instead of dinner with him. Then it came to him, "what are you doing Friday?"
"What did I just get finished saying?" she shouldn't be surprised when he was notorious for his selective hearing and worst his memory.
"I heard you," he reassured with a charming smile that won her over every time. Because he wasn't just her boss who held her future in his hands he was a manipulative friend and beyond that smile there was a fate worse than death and she wanted it to have nothing to do with her promising career in marketing.
"Fine," she sighed.
"Great," as if he had a doubt she wouldn't come, "I'll have a dress sent over later this evening and we can go back and forth until I convince you it's the very thing you should be wearing for Friday."
"Oh, how considerate."
Russell chuckled evilly, "the genius is I give you the impression you have a choice in the matter," he paused for the great reveal, "when that's not the case at all."
"Go figure," she forced a smile between clenched teeth not up for a wardrobe debate with her boss, but she'd get to the hurdle when she needed to. For now, she had four hours left in her day with very little time to get everything done before she left for her parent's dinner party.
When Russell left her office he had a spring in his step and her personal assistant popped her head in to make sure there wasn't bloodshed that needed mopping.
"You need a drink?" she heard her assistant ask.
Pam shook her head giving an amused look to her impeccably dressed blond right arm in a black polka dot skirt and great cardigan, "no I'm fine."
Sookie looked behind her taking sit before Pam suggested she take one, "trouble in paradise with the model?" she gushed, "no wonder he's raising hell."
"He's being a child who's missing the attention of his favorite toy. I don't want to know what's going on and I don't want to talk about it," she tried to end the conversation there.
Sookie wasn't easily dissuaded, "but," she put up an obstinate hand pointing out one vital detail, "you are going with him Friday so you'll have the opportunity to do the office a favor."
Pam knew she shouldn't ask, "what's that?"
"Get him laid," the younger woman told the middle aged mentor whom she loved to work for. Pam was a portrait of poise and style with a shrewd intellectual mind that she envied because it wasn't in her to be that single-minded to one task right now. She was young and there were men to enjoy and a life to live outside of work a pleasurable fact her boss forgot regularly.