Slurs. Allusions to sexual assault.
California Bound
Landi looked out of her window yet again as the plane banked left on its descent into Los Angeles. She was tired from the flight, suffering from a bit of jet lag, and missing Tyr - though she'd never admit that last part. What was it about him that made her heart race and her stomach knot?
"You're thinking of him again," Whitmore said in amusement.
"What makes you think-" he nodded his chin at her bracelet, the one she had yet to take off. She was fingering the cupid charm. She blushed.
"I'm allowed to think about him on my off moments. Just as long as I'm focused while on the job," she said defensively.
"This is true, Ms. Shaveed. Though Josh and I would prefer that you not think about him at all."
"Of course," she said with a shrug. "Unfortunately for the two of you, this is my life."
"He's dangerous, Alandra! And he's also sterile. I know that you want a family."
"He's sterile for now. Vasectomies are reversible. And my family plans are none of your business."
"He's a prince, Alandra! Eventually, he's going to have to go home to rule. You have a bright, promising future ahead of you. Are you willing to give it up to be some bubble-headed princess? Kissing babies and smiling for the cameras?"
"You know me better than to think I'll be satisfied being a simple figurehead. If they attempt to put me in such a position, I will simply have to educate them to the contrary."
"Have you really thought about this? The media scrutiny?"
"Yes," she said calmly. "All of Tyr's women are under threat of being in the spotlight. And I have the advantage right now. The videos paint me as a poor victim of Shantelle's greed and spite. I've made no statement to the contrary. I've made no statement at all."
"But what do you really think about all of this?"
"I think it was a stroke of genius. Very few men would have thought of such a solution for their sexual appetite. He's essentially having his cake and eating it too."
"Hmph! I thought you were a Christian."
"I am a Christian. That doesn't mean I condone tons of unwanted, unloved children on the streets. And it wouldn't be fair to the children to have infighting over the throne either. It's good that he was responsible enough to think of these things ahead of time. "
"The responsible thing would be to wait for marriage." Landi couldn't help but laugh in her companion's face.
"Oh, come now, Mr. Myers! Did you wait for marriage?" She allowed that to sink in before continuing to defend her boyfriend. "You are just salty because he thought of a brilliant solution to his problem. I'm sure that he is tested regularly for disease and viability. When he does decide to rejoin the gene pool, his wife will be able to rest safe in the knowledge that her child doesn't have competition for the throne. That, to me, sounds like it would be a comfort rather than a point of contention." She stood to start gathering her things as the plane had already landed. She was already thinking of what she needed to do before going down for a power nap. She needed to check in with her parents, unpack her clothes, and have them pressed. She needed to shower after such a long trip. And she definitely needed food.
"This discussion isn't over, Ms. Shaveed. Tyr Anasazi is no good for you and you know it."
"Prove it," she said forcefully, looking at him with her courtroom face. He'd seen it countless times and he knew better than to argue with it. The pair exited the plane into the terminal and were surprised to see someone holding a sign with Myers' name on it. Making their way over, the two lawyers were once again surprised to see an attractive male and female looking for them.
"I'm Whitmore Myers," the man said firmly. The woman holding the sign immediately shook his hand, smiling as if delighted.
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Myers! My name is Iesha Hefner. Welcome to California! We at Gringotts Law wanted you to know that we take care of our own. And you must be Ms. Shaveed," she said smoothly, shaking her hand just as enthusiastically as she had the owner of the company. Once she'd greeted the two, she turned to the heretofore silent man devouring Alandra with his eyes. "This is Henry Gringotts, the number two of the firm. His father owns the company. Mr. Gringotts the elder sends his apologies for not being here to greet you himself. A small matter of business came up that he needed to deal with personally."
"We were all set to order a cab to the hotel, Ms. Hefner. We therefore appreciate the ride," Landi smiled. Of the two of them, she was better rested and able to deal with surprises.
"We realize that you must both be tired, but we are pretty proud of our city and wanted to give you a tour before we got bogged down in negotiations. Have you gathered all of your luggage?"
"Yes, Mr. Gringotts," she answered, indicating their carts loaded down with baggage. The man smiled charmingly at her and she had to repress a shudder. She'd dealt with his type before.
"Please. 'Mr. Gringotts' is literally my father. As you will be dealing with the two of us all week, I must insist that you call me Henry. And what may I call you?"
"Ms. Shaveed is fine for a working relationship, Mr. Henry," she responded calmly. "Is the car this way?" She noted her father figure's nod of approval as she turned to Ms. Hefner, who was smothering a smile.
"Yes, Ms. Shaveed. If you'll just follow me…" 'The car' turned out to be a stretch limo. The driver loaded the bags in the back as the four settled into the vehicle. Henry settled near the bar.
May I offer you some refreshments, Mr. Myers? Ms. Shaveed?" Her name he said in a slightly deeper tone, his eyes fixed on her.
"An orange juice, please," she said firmly while her boss ordered a rum and Coke. As he fixed the drinks, his eyes kept straying to the modest neckline and hemline of her business suit. It took effort and concentration not to adjust both, or ask him to stop.
Henry, for his part, was eager to partake in Ms. Shaveed's charms. His father had him routinely seduce the female partners of his rivals. It made for good blackmail material should things go wrong with mergers and the like. They were discrete about this policy, but Henry never had a problem obeying his father in this. Looking the New Yorker over yet again, the man was absolutely gleeful. He liked a challenge and if the woman's cold act was any indication, she would be the challenge of a lifetime. He couldn't wait to get that spry body between the sheets. "You sure you don't want a splash of something in that orange juice?" he asked flirtatiously.
"I'm quite sure. Thank you," she said, taking the cup off his hands. "I'd love to hear an insider's view on your company, Mr. Henry." The man smiled at the subtle change of subject. He wanted to ask her about herself, but this was even better. He could impress her with his company! With this goal in mind, he launched into a thorough explanation of Gringotts Law, making sure to include jokes that his captive audience was meant to laugh at and some slight sexual innuendo for his target. The pair kept up with his explanation admirably, considering how jet-lagged they were. But after two hours of mostly one-sided dialogue, even he was tired of hearing himself talk. The limousine pulled up in front of their hotel and let them check-in.
"Oh, Ms. Shaveed? I would be happy to discuss the company further over dinner tonight. I'll send the limo to pick you up at say… seven?"
"I'm likely to sleep the rest of the night away in order to be ready for our meeting tomorrow morning, Mr. Henry. I happen to be very tired right now," she said, looking anything but to the thirsty man.
"Of course. Forgive me, Ms. Shaveed. I forgot that you've had a long flight. You look exquisite despite the fatigue. Perhaps tomorrow?"
"We shall see. Goodnight, Mr. Henry. Ms. Hefner," she said vaguely. Henry watched her help her drooping boss with his luggage, his sensual mouth pulled down in a frown. He'd been hoping to bed her tonight, thus proving to the internet what a beautiful slut she secretly was, but it seemed that would have to wait until she got over her jet lag.
"You're losing your touch, Mr. Gringotts," Iesha laughed once the limo pulled back into traffic.
Henry glowered at the woman. "There's no accounting for jet lag. Give it a day or two and I'll be balls deep in that bitch."
"I don't know, sir. She didn't seem that interested, even with the jet lag. I think you may have met your match. From all accounts, Alandra doesn't put out. Not even for her playboy boyfriend."
"Then I have a week to change that," he said firmly. "Dad's paying me good money to bag her. I don't intend to lose out on that income."
"Whatever you say," Iesha shrugged.
… …
By Thursday Henry was beyond frustrated with 'Ms. Shaveed'. She refused to go out with him, citing the need to compile her notes from the multiple meetings she attended daily. She was constantly in the presence of her boss. If he didn't know better, he would have suspected that he slept in her room nightly with a shotgun, he was so protective of her. She didn't even drink! What the hell kind of woman didn't drink in this business? He'd gone into this deal with his father knowing that she was a lifetime member of the Teflon Panty Club, but he'd been hoping to change all that. No woman had ever been able to resist him. But Alandra was making a fool of him! The betting pool on whether or not he was going to score with her was staggering! At this point, he was desperate enough to procure some Rohypnol and be done with this foolishness. One crushed-up pill in her precious orange juice and she would be his. But he didn't want her that way. He wanted her willing participation. He wanted her to come to him to satisfy her needs.
"Es ist mir egal, was du willst! Die Zeit wird knapp. Ich möchte, dass diese Schlampe eingesperrt und als Druckmittel gegen ihren störrischen Chef markiert wird," Heinrich Gringotts told his son angrily. (I don't care what you want! Time is running out. I want that bitch bagged and tagged as leverage against her stubborn boss)
"You don't understand, father. She won't cooperate! I've tried everything I can think of to-"
"Dann denken Sie besser über den Tellerrand hinaus! Ich bezahle Sie für Ergebnisse. Glaubst du wirklich, dass du bereit bist, dieses Unternehmen zu leiten, wenn du nicht einmal ein kleines Mädchen dazu bringen kannst, sich dir zu unterwerfen? Mach es fertig. Jetzt." Henry sighed, knowing that this was his father's final word on the matter. There was nothing for it; Rohypnol in her drink it was. (Then you'd better start thinking outside the box! I'm paying you for results. Do you really think you're ready to run this company if you can't even get one little girl to submit to you? Get it done. Now.)
He went to leave the office; it was late and he needed to speak to his dealer; when his father muttered something that snapped his patience right in half.
"Ich hätte den Brüdern nie so gute Konditionen angeboten, wenn ich gewusst hätte, dass mein Sohn so eine Schwuchtel ist, die in die Muschi gepeitscht wird," Henry, whose hand had been on the doorknob, froze. Then he slammed the door to his father's office and turned to face him. (I never would have offered the brothers such good terms if I'd known my son was such a pussy-whipped faggot)
"Sehen. Ich werde jeden ficken, auf den du mich zeigst, Vater. Aber es ist, als wären ihre Beine zusammengeklebt. Alandra wird nicht-" (Look. I'll fuck anyone you point me at, father. But it's like her legs are glued together. Alandra won't-)
"Dann mach sie, verdammt! Wir sprechen hier von einem Multimillionen-Dollar-Deal. Whitmore wird mich begraben, wenn ich nichts tue!" (Then make her, damn it! This is a multimillion dollar deal we're talking about here. Whitmore is going to bury me if I don't do something!)
"Sie vergewaltigen? Ein Anwalt mit Beziehungen, der sich auf Strafverfolgung spezialisiert hat?" He chuckled with no humor. "Sag dir was. Probieren Sie es aus und sagen Sie mir, wie es bei Ihnen funktioniert." (Rape her? A lawyer with connections who specializes in prosecution? Tell ya what. You try that one and tell me how it works out for you)
The two men glared at each other balefully. They were at an impasse. If the lady wasn't willing, there were only a few options left to them. And they both knew it.
"Sehr gut. Wir probieren es auf Deine Art aus. Aber das hat besser funktioniert. Das ist Ihr Erbe, mit dem Sie gerade herumspielen" Heinrich sighed. (Very well. We'll try it your way. But this had better work. This is your inheritance you're screwing with right now.)
"Danke für dein Vertrauen in mich, Vater." Henry said sarcastically, once again thinking about his dealer and how much this would set him back. (Thank you for your faith in me, Father.)
Friday morning he walked into the office with a pocket full of wonders. Expensive wonders. It was time to end this. He watched her all day as she faithfully recorded what was said between the two titans of business. She contributed very little to the proceedings at this juncture. They were in final negotiations for the merger and his father was right; he'd given them too much in an effort to entice them into the deal. He'd been expecting to have a backup in the form of blood on the sheets. With that evidence in hand, they would be ready to redo the contract and turn it on its head. But first, she had to take the bait. The bait being him.
Abruptly he straightened up in his chair when he realized that everyone in the room was staring at him. "I'm sorry."
"Your son is prematurely celebrating this deal," Whitmore said to break the tense silence. Everyone in the room broke into polite laughter.
"No doubt he is anticipating the smooth conclusion of these proceedings," Heinrich smiled. "And you, my dear?" Landi looked up from her copious pile of notes and smiled.
"I'm wishing I could have brought my secretary to these negotiations to help with my stenographer duties this week," she grinned mischievously, shaking out her hand to prove her point. This time the laughter was genuine.
"Yes, you have more than proven your ability to record events, my dear. And participate in them for that matter. It's after one; why don't we break for lunch? Some sugar in his system may wake the boy up!" He grinned teasingly at her before coming around the table to grab his son playfully around the neck. "We will return in a bit. There are a few private issues that need ironing out before the next phase of discussions begins." He ignored the curious stares as he pulled the boy out of the conference room. A platter full of more sandwiches than the small group of paralegals and secretaries could hope to finish in a week was brought in. There were small bags of chips and sodas to go with the food. Everyone loaded up and low-level conversations started. For all that they'd been there a week, Alandra and Whitmore hadn't made any friends. They were seen as a hostile force taking over the company after all.
As they ate and chatted amongst themselves, they could all hear the Gringotts family yelling at each other in German. The woman listened thoughtfully as she ate.
"What is it?" her boss asked after a while.
"I'll… I'll tell you later," she smiled as they came back into the room.
"So… are you thinking about moving to the West Coast, Ms Shaveed?" Heinrich asked charmingly, popping a chip into his mouth. "We could always use a brilliant young talent such as yourself here." The woman thought of disclosing their discussion in the hall, but a little voice in her head said 'not yet' so she kept the knowledge to herself.
"I won't be moving, Mr. Gringotts. I'm quite comfortable where I am. And my family is all on the East Coast."
"What a shame," the older man said, wiping his hands with a napkin. "Well, maybe you'll change your mind in time. Talk to my son; he'll tell you that this is the place to be! We've got everything. Sand and surf, culture and art."
"Smog and earthquakes," she added with a laugh. "Don't get me wrong, Mr. Gringotts. New York has Gun violence and snow storms. It's simply a matter of 'the devil you know'. There's a rhythm to New York that I enjoy. There's no place like it on Earth. And, as I mentioned before, my family is there and they are my priority at this time. So no. A move to your beautiful city is simply out of the question at this point in my life. But you never know what the future may hold."
Heinrich gave a fake laugh over the awkward silence that had descended on the room. "My! What an opinionated young lady you have brought with you, Whitmore! When I was a young man the women went where the men told them to."
"Ms. Shaveed is our most talented employee, Heinrich. It was for a reason that she was put in the coveted position of Junior Partner. She's not just a pretty face. Now, you wouldn't be trying to poach my employees, would you?" This gave the men something to talk about while lunch went on. Negotiations resumed a half hour later, and Landi was thanking God for her ability to compartmentalize her work. That those bastards were planning to roofie her so Henry would sleep with her and record it was outrageous! It made her sick to her stomach! And the casual way they spoke about it… Exactly how many women had they done this to? She'd heard of underhanded tactics like this before, she wasn't naïve. But to be the object of such a dirty, low down…
Whitmore's hand on her thigh told her that she was spacing out. Searching her photographic memory for the last few minutes of conversation, she focused her full attention on the meeting. They hadn't drugged her yet; there was still time to beat this.
Immediately pleading off from the after-party Heinrich had planned, claiming to have a migraine, she contacted a friend in her firm.
"Hey, Chuck. Got a question for you."
"And a bright good evening to you too, chica," the man laughed. "How are things on the West Coast?"
"Complicated. The head of the company wants his son to fuck me for the cameras so that he can use the footage to broker a better deal with our boss."
"Did you tell Whitmore?" Chuck asked, all business suddenly. "He would never deal with a company that would do that to any woman, much less you."
"There wasn't time to tell him discreetly. And I think we can turn it into a major win for the company if we play this right. But I need your help."
"I'm here for you, chica. Tell me what you have in mind." The next fifteen minutes were spent hashing out the details. They went through several different scenarios, up to and including if Henry was able to sneak the date rape drug into her drink tomorrow night. That was the last opportunity he would have to poison her. Tomorrow was meant to be a celebration, a ball at a fancy venue. She wouldn't be able to beg off like she had tonight. Things were about to get dangerous, but if she got this right, the ridiculously generous terms of the merger would stand and she and Whitmore would return to New York as heroes.
"Vios con Dios, señorita. You are one brave chick to go through with this. My connection downtown will get you what you need to carry this off. And Landi?" (Go with God, miss)
"Yeah?"
"Be careful, alright? I don't want to hear that things went wrong, okay?"
"I'm always careful, man! Just make sure your contact is discreet."
"I would have sworn you were the soul of 'careful' up until you started dating the sterile prince," he laughed. "Watch your back, chica. You're swimming with sharks."
"Thanks, man." She hung up feeling a heck of a lot better now that she had a plan. Someone knocked on her door a few minutes later as she was getting ready for bed. Thinking 'damn, Chuck's people move fast', she looked out the peephole only to find that it was Whitmore.
"Hey, Mr.-"
"Cut the crap, Landi. What's going on? Why did you leave? I know it wasn't because of some migraine."
"It might have been," she said defensively, opening the door to admit the agitated man.
"But it wasn't," he said definitively, moving past his employee to take a seat on the edge of her bed. "You don't have a history of migraines and you looked more angry than sick when you left."
Suddenly feeling paranoid about his reaction to the news, she decided to be round-about on the subject. "Look, Mr. Whitmore, something is going on, but I don't feel comfortable saying anything about it at this moment. Just know that I have a plan and it's all under control. Be ready to follow my lead tomorrow at the party, okay? I think we can knock this one out of the park if we play our cards right."
Whitmore was worried. Landi wasn't one to keep secrets, this must be something bad. But on the other hand, she was asking for his trust and patience. Part of him wanted to demand answers, but facing her earnestness, he couldn't help but trust her. "Alright, Landi. I'll let it be. For now. But you'd better come clean by the end of the party. I don't like seeing my people upset. Goodnight." He stormed out of the room, determined to get a good night's sleep and maybe a nap tomorrow afternoon before the party. He had a feeling that he would need his full wits about him for whatever the wily woman had planned.