Lemon

Chapter 15: Empress of the Damned

Tamara

I woke up the following Wednesday to a call from Wilson.

"Checked your email lately?"

"There's so much hate mail in there, I haven't bothered in a few days. Why?" I yawned tiredly.

"Everyone everywhere received a message from you this morning. It has some fascinating information about your former employer. Did you know that this is not the first time she's cried wolf about an employee of hers? Leslie Smith has had three former employees go through what you're going through. Two of them disappeared into the ether to escape the backlash. One of them took her own life. The pattern seems to be that every time her finances get low, she picks up a new member of her entourage. The new employee tends to be from a humble background and on the poorer side of the wealth scale. She strings them along for a few weeks and then starts the rumors that they are embezzling from the company. She shatters their reputation, turning the public against them until they run away with their tail between their legs."

"Here's the funny part, though. None of those doomed employees have ever been charged with embezzlement. It was just an accusation thrown around and then dismissed. And every time she cries 'embezzlement', the banks line up to give her money. Her business was tottering on the edge of bankruptcy, sis. If she hadn't gotten a cash infusion, she would have lost everything."

I rubbed sleep out of my eyes while absorbing this information. "So, if I were to sue her right now…"

"It's too late for that. She's back on the cash part of the cycle. But if you speak out, let her know that you're not going to go away…Along with this evidence we've accumulated, It might be enough to sway the public and ruin her. Here's the thing though, both of the still-living employees went deep underground. I can't find them anywhere. That's going to be your mission. You need to find these women and let them know that they're not alone."

"But… It's a huge country, bro. Where would I even start?"

"Don't worry, boo, I got you," he chortled. "Start by hiring that publicist from Vegas. I'm controlling your socials for now. Just… Get your story out. Make a big stink and they will come to you."

"Thanks, Wilson. You really are the best."

"Yes, yes I am," he laughed. "But flattery is why I dig a little deeper into this bitch's dirt. I'll let you know when I find out more." He hung up before I got sentimental on him. I loved my brother, but he had a hard time processing sincere human emotions. I'd learned that spontaneous outbursts of emotion from his five sisters honestly scared him.

Before I could contemplate my brother further, a warm arm wrapped around my torso.

"What did Wilson want, Sweetling?" I couldn't help my purr of contentment even as I reprimanded him for taking the day off work to laze in bed with me. "You want me to go, Sweetling?" he asked with a touch of mirth in his deep voice.

"No," I sighed happily, luxuriating in the way we were tangled up in each other. He pressed me into the bed and had his way with me… Again. We'd been making love and sleeping all morning. I couldn't even imagine what I must smell like at this point. Much less what I must look like.

We drifted off before I could panic about it and woke to a call from an unknown number. I usually ignored unknown numbers as I'd learned that they were usually haters, perverts, and perverted haters from personal experience. Something had me pick up this time.

"Hello, Ms. Saunders. This is Quintan Lerner. We met briefly in Las Vegas. I wanted to commend you on your brilliant move in sending an email to everyone you possibly could this morning. Not proclaiming your innocence, but laying the groundwork for your case. And, of course, to offer my services once again. What you've done is a power move. You need to build on that momentum or it will turn against you."

"What do I need to sign and how much will it cost me?" I asked bluntly, putting him to the test.

"I'd rather not discuss money over the phone, Sweetie. Come to my office. I happen to be based out of San Francisco so I'm within driving distance. I'll text you the details. See you soon!" I cringed a little bit at the cheery sign-off, remembering Leslie's before she'd ruined my life.

"What's the matter, baby? Who was on the phone?" I leaned back into Keith's strength.

"That was the publicist from Vegas. Apparently, he tracked me down. Speaking of tracking down, I expected your father to courier those papers to me by now. He seemed very intent on cutting me out of the family fortune…" I had more to say, I really did. But it was hard to think with him nibbling on my collarbones so lazily. God, I loved this man.

"Don't worry about my father, Sweetling. I issued him a little ultimatum of my own while you were in the bathroom with Jubilee. Speaking of which, what happened to her? She came back to the table all teary-eyed. She was smiling like you invented marshmallow fluff, though, so I figured it was okay. What's the secret?"

"Sorry, love. Jubilee has sworn me to secrecy. For now. I refuse to betray her trust for your curiosity. I should get up and shower. Quintan wants to meet today." I tried to get up, intent on getting to the bathroom. But my boyfriend was now holding me down, sliding his massive cock in my suddenly dripping pussy. I shivered and rolled my hips against him as I was meant to, moaning loudly as I did. He kept it up until he burst inside my eager body. Then he grabbed his phone and sat me up on my knees and trembling hands so that my face wouldn't be in the shot. I was used to this kind of thing and obeyed. Once I was in position, he removed his penis, filming his semen flooding out of me. I worked my inner muscles to give him the best possible shot. For some reason, watching me creampie really got him hot. He already had dozens of videos of me dripping his cum, yet every time was like the first time for him. He opened my lower lips to show the source before turning off the camera and using his other hand to collect some of his fluid to bring to my mouth.

I couldn't help it; I licked his hand clean before dropping to my elbows, offering him more. The next thing I knew, two hours had passed with us filming three more creampie scenes. Once he was nice and limp inside me, the man pulled his thick member out and had me clean him up with my tongue. After that, I was allowed to shower and dress with him.

We got to Mr. Lerner's office in the early afternoon, our workout bags in the back of my car.

"He'll be right with you, Ms. Saunders. Mr. Rochester," the receptionist said as we entered the lavish offices of The Sharper Image. People came and went, carrying on quiet conversations as my man and I waited for Quintan to join us. He didn't make us wait long.

"Good Afternoon, Ms. Saunders. Mr. Rochester. I'm so glad you could join me on such short notice. This way, please." He led us to an expensively decorated corner office on the 5th floor with a partial view of the Bay. Keith and I settled ourselves, but before I could say anything, he held up a hand for silence. I watched him search his office until he found a little recording device on his wall. He destroyed it before coming back to his desk and sitting down.

"We can speak freely now. Let me be honest with you, Ms. Saunders. I did not choose you at random. My superiors have been hired by Mrs. Smith to ruin you with alacrity. I am to advise you to drop your fight with her and disappear and I am to assist you in that task. I am risking everything by telling you this, especially since that is not the advice I have given you thus far. But I believe that what my bosses have agreed to is wrong. We're supposed to protect our clients, not throw them under the bus."

"I appreciate your candor, Mr. Lerners-"

"Please, call me Quintan."

"Very well, Quintan. With respect, how do I know this isn't all an elaborate hoax? What is preventing me and my man from walking away right now and continuing this fight on our own?" The man smiled at me as my mind reeled. Leslie had sent someone at me specifically to trip me up. Now why would she do that? My reputation was already in tatters thanks to her allegations.

"I like that you're thinking, Ms. Saunders. Most clients - females in particular - would be so outraged that they would stop thinking and storm out. You and your man aren't like that. To answer your excellent questions, there's no evidence proving that this isn't a hoax and there is absolutely nothing stopping you from walking out of here free and clear. But I have an idea that will expose both my bosses and your old boss if you're game."

"I'm listening," I shrugged. I might as well hear him out before I stormed off in a huff.

"I am planning to gather evidence that Mrs. Smith is the one who hired my bosses. It will put more cracks in that sweet persona of hers. In the meantime, you should get your full story out on socials before taking her to court for defamation of character. The accusations she opened with have been dropped, making this a kangaroo court. You need to be thinking of how to get your side of the story out to the public before taking her to court. Otherwise, you'll be tried and hung in the court of public opinion before opening arguments. It would also help to track down the other living assistants she crucified and the family of the dead one. Not an easy task to be sure. My guess, they've gone far off the grid. You're going to have to make a big stink, getting people talking about them to drag them back into the spotlight. Use your social media to do this. In the meantime, defy me by hunting for the truth while insisting that you don't need to be going quietly into the night. My bosses won't get the rest of their money until you've disappeared from the spotlight. The less I'm able to rein you in, the more they will demand to meet with me, and the more chance one or more of them will spill the beans about Mrs. Smith's involvement."

"I plan to post the confession as soon as I have it, getting myself fired. I've wanted to start my own business for years, but I needed a hot ticket item to go out on. With you as a client, my reputation for integrity will be established. In the meantime, I'll be able to openly help you with your case and Leslie's plan for you will be ruined. What do you think?"

"I think we have a lot of work ahead of us. Where do we start?" We grinned at each other, eager to discuss tactics.

… …

It took a week to gain traction on the internet. A couple of videos with the comments turned off, giving my side of the story, started the public talking. Other YouTube videos sprung up, Known Leslie Smith haters only at first, but then more credible sources. It helped my case that no further charges were formally brought against me from Mrs. Smith's camp. For someone who seemed so eager to slander me, they were certainly being quiet now. I took advantage of her silence and posted Shorts and TikToks of my statement. Now that the public had access and the means to make their opinions known, comments poured in, ranging from outright denial to questions about my statements.

I started to get requests for live chats and other interviews. I avoided those controversial ones, not wanting to set myself up for failure.

"Thank you for being here, Tammy."

"No problem, Dennis. I actually like your videos, so I'm excited to be a part of one. I hope I'm coming through alright. Not too slow?"

"No, you're fine. Shall we get started?"

"Of course. I'm a few hours behind you, so the sunshine-"

"Don't worry, Tamara." I took a few deep breaths before nodding to the YouTube icon. "Now, you have been quite vocal about this whole controversy on your socials this last month. I'm surprised you wanted to continue this campaign against Leslie. She's quite powerful."

"It's true, there's quite a David versus Goliath dynamic going on. But she tried to ruin me, likely over money, and I was taught to stand up for myself. Besides, what would happen to me if I stopped trying to clear my name? I'd spend the rest of my life with people spitting at me in the street when they recognized me. It's too gross to be allowed to continue."

"Tell us about the hair scandal. Let's tackle these accusations one at a time."

"Sure thing. When I first started working for Mrs. Smith, I brought her 2 large binders-"

"There were two binders?"

"Yes, here's a picture of me with them and everything. My sister snapped the picture because she said I looked like I was headed out to school. And if you look in the corner, the date and time are on them. One of the binders had a detailed analysis of each of her hairstyles from past appearances and movies. The second one had suggested hairstyles for her, 15 for long hair and 15 for if she ever cut her hair. I never stole that binder from her! After looking through both binders, she told her secretary to shred and burn them. When I told her that I had two extra copies at my condo, she insisted on going to my old apartment with me to collect both copies and shred and burn them too. But I couldn't part with my master copies. In fact, I have them right here." I pulled them out, leafing through the second one so that the camera could see.

"I put them in a safety deposit box because I couldn't stand the thought of all my research being utterly destroyed. I only retrieved them this morning. Here's the thing, though. I sent you the master files before I got online today. If you pay attention to the second one, I never actually used any of the styles in the binder while I was working for Mrs. Smith. Hair has always been my gift. My dream has always been to own my own beauty parlor. I didn't need the binder to be successful at my job. They were just examples to advertise my talent."

"So the accusation that you were consulting a binder that you stole from her to style her hair?"

"False. One hundred percent false. She only said it because she thought she had the only copy left in existence." I could see the comments section of the live chat blowing up with approval.

"Alright, let's move on to the embezzling accusations."

"I was paid a good wage for my time styling Mrs. Smith's hair. During the month I worked for her we went out shopping two times specifically for me because I was losing so much weight. Other than that, I never saw any of her money. I never embezzled anything, I wouldn't know how. My family and friends will tell you, I am not tech-savvy. I've got hair on my brain. And the fact that she dropped those accusations within 24 hours of making them should prove that she had no case against me. It fits her pattern, but it's never been a charge she could make stick."

"What do you mean by that?"

"If you don't mind, I'd rather talk about that later in the interview. For now, just know that the accusation is false."

"Very well, Tammy," Ralph laughed. "Now we arrive at the most egregious charge, the one of physical abuse."

"That one… That one blew my mind. Mrs. Smith needs some serious therapy because she is the one abusing her employees! She doesn't smack us around or anything, but she likes to grab us hard enough to bruise. Like, if my skin was any lighter, I would have had bruises all up and down my arms and shoulders from my time with her. As it is, I wrote down every time she handled me roughly. The circumstances and where she gripped me up like an irate mother. I don't know what made her think that she could just tack that onto my list of supposed crimes. I guess to make me more of a monster since she had no case against me? But it's absolutely not true." The chat was going completely crazy at this point. Speculation ran rampant about why she'd make such unprovable accusations.

"Thank you for clearing all of this up, Tammy. I know that the world went a little bit crazy about these-"

"A little bit? Everyone went fucking nuts over these accusations! The world's sweetheart cried wolf and everyone and their grandma's dog took up arms against me! I was spat on, food was thrown at me, I got so much hate mail and death threats - both physically and in cyberspace. My car was keyed at my gym. Multiple times! People tried to follow me home threatening to rape me! Perverts and pedophiles contacted me, saying that I was the scum of the earth and they would never stoop to my level! Banks started trying to deny me credit cards and loans! It was - in a word - insane. And Mrs. Smith stood poised and ready to pour fuel on the fire! She got what she wanted, ruining my reputation and life was just a bonus!"

"Got what she wanted? What did she want?"

"Money. Her company has been hemorrhaging money since its inception. It's not even company stealing, it's just bad business practices from someone with no head for business. Quarterly reports are a matter of public record, so I looked into her. Every time she's on the brink of losing everything, she hires a new staff member. Ginger Elrich was the new makeup artist. Susan Blakely was the new member of the wardrobe department. And Lisa Johnson was the new florist, God rest her. I have to wonder if any of them felt like I did when she offered me the job - like I'd just won the Powerball lottery. Or if any of them endured the abuse for the two to three months they worked for her before she turned on them. Mrs. Smith is no one's fool. She tends to pick loners; down-on-their-luck types with no family as her victims. She spreads her lies and lets the public do her dirty work for her. Poor Lisa couldn't handle the public crucifixion - she took her own life three months in. The others went off the grid to escape the torment. I refuse to disappear out of my life. It's time somebody stood up to that bully. Make sure that she can't just do this again someday."

"How did you end up being tapped then? You seem to be on the exact opposite end of the spectrum."

"Desperation. The bottom was coming out of the business. If she hadn't found a victim, the business would have gone belly up."

"According to the comments, you're one hundred percent correct that her company is bleeding money. I'm sure that some research into her previous victims will give the public a clearer picture of her pattern. So, while the public catches up to your vengeance, what do you plan to do about all this?"

"I would love to reach out to her other victims to compare stories. But I understand that may be asking too much of these brave women. In the meantime, I intend to sue Mrs. Smith for defamation of character. My reputation was tarnished just so she could make a profit! I will not give silent consent to such immoral behavior. This has been going on for eight years already! It's time to expose her to the world she's been hiding behind!"

"Wow, you're so brave! Leslie Smith has a lot of money and an endless supply of supporters. I doubt even this interview and the interest it drums up will be enough to slow her down. She's got an army of lawyers on her side, what do you have?"

"I have the facts and the truth. I will not let her get away with ruining my reputation and then trying to sweep me under the rug so she can do it again to some other poor, unsuspecting woman. Mrs. Smith has a body count, she needs to be held accountable for what she's done."

"Wow! I wish you the best of luck in your quest for justice. You definitely have my support and the support of my viewership."

"I appreciate it, Dennis. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get to the gym."

"Oh, that's right! You were a gym rat before all of this started."

"Gym rats are super buff and already in shape. I'm just a chick who finds working out super cathartic. Especially since this all started. See ya!" I disconnected and ran to get my stuff together to work out. Then I donned the plastic robe that I wore whenever I ventured outside lately. It covered me up completely and was a bitch to wear in the moist summer heat, but it was easy to clean spit, egg, and whatever else the heathens in the Bay area decided to throw at me.

Things were going well for once. I made it all the way to the parking lot of Redemption before being noticed. That's when things started to go wrong.

"Hey, gym rat!" A nasally, annoyed voice called out behind me. I simply increased my pace, knowing where this was going. "Hey, I'm talking to you, bitch! You don't get to ignore me when I'm talking to you!" Rough hands shoved me from behind. Taking that as permission, I turned around, slapped him in the face, kneed him in the doughy stomach, and grabbed him by the throat, looking for his accomplice. These idiots were never so bold as when they had an audience. Sure enough, there were two more of them, drinking beer and laughing at the turn of events.

"I don't answer to 'gym rat' and I certainly don't answer to 'bitch'. My name is Tammy, Ms. Saunders if you're nasty! Leave me alone." releasing him furiously, I resumed my trek to the gym when the idiot plowed into me from behind. He tried to mount me, but I was squirming too much. I finally knocked him off of me, ignoring the jeers of his drunken friends.

"Gonna teach you a little lesson, cunt! You ain't suing no one!"

"So I guess I am then," I answered, rolling into a crouch. I grinned at his confused look. "Double negative. If your dumbass knew proper English, you'd know that two negatives equal a positive." He growled and clumsily swung at me, yelling about shutting my smart mouth, when a strong, dark hand caught his fist. My man looked pissed, glaring at the slovenly man behind me.

"We don't tolerate beatdowns outside the gym. You got beef, bring it inside." The man, egged on by his drunken companions, gathered a globule of spit in his mouth. I punched it out of him, deeply gratified when it ended up all over his face. That shut him up. Keith released him in disgust and the idiot and his buddies ran away like the cowards they were. "You alright, baby?"

"Yeah," I shrugged, rubbing my forehead where it scraped the concrete. He lifted the hood of my robe and inspected the damage.

"You'll be okay, Sweetling. Let's get you inside so you're not late for your class tonight." Once we were safely inside, I made a beeline for the locker room, stripping my plastic robe off. I was changed and ready to sweat within minutes, hair plaited back and away from my face. Thanks to my boyfriend's relentless drills six days a week, I was more than ready for Baby Boot Camp with Shayla. Another twenty pounds were lost since Leslie betrayed and turned the whole world against me. I needed a new workout outfit. But these would do for now. I got through the class easily, in awe of my newfound endurance, and made my way to my boyfriend with a grappling dummy. After drilling me on grapples and holds for an extra hour, I was ready to collapse. He sent me to the female locker room so I could clean up.

Sweat washed off of me, my hair styled immaculately, and dressed to the nines thanks to that second shopping spree Leslie had insisted on before turning the whole world against me, I stepped out of the locker room with confidence, heading to the cage where my guy was fighting. Familiar tremors coursed through me as I watched him tackle Buzz Saw to the mats, the two giants springing apart for round two. I somehow managed not to climb my boyfriend like a jungle gym as I had the first time I'd seen him fight, but it was a close thing. Especially when he wrapped those legs around his opponent and squeezed like a mighty python. I suddenly wanted to be the one under him, pinned and helpless. He made a beeline to me once he won the fight, ignoring everyone else as they congratulated him, surveying my trembling form with a smirk. Instead of kissing me, he continued to the locker room after giving me a knowing look that said he knew I wasn't wearing underwear and that he planned to punish me for it later.

God, I hoped he punished me for it later.

"Hey, Tammy. I hear that you're planning to sue Leslie Smith," Amanda said, interrupting my lustful thoughts.

"What of it?"

"You're going to need my help. Come to my office first thing tomorrow morning and we can start the process." I looked at her in shock.

"Are you sure you want to get involved in this fight? Smith fans are insane and fond of spitting."

"I can handle it, little one."

"You say that now…" I muttered, resolving to order her a plastic robe like mine when I got home.

"Some of us are heading out to a club later. You and the Wall are welcome to join us."

"I don't think that's a good idea," I demurred.

"Oh come on," Rampage yelled, drawing the attention of the whole gym. "While we appreciate this whole 'I want to keep you out of harm's way' attitude, it's bullshit! You're one of us. If we have to take some flack to keep you in the group, then so be it!" All eyes were on me; I could feel my face heating up.

"With respect, have you ever been spat on?" I asked quietly. The man shook his head. "Had literal rotten tomatoes thrown at you? Those things have a heft to them, by the way. Have you ever been cursed out by an old man or a seven-year-old kid while her mother stood by, nodding in approval? Ever been banned from a store? Ever been hit with a walker?" Horrified silence met these confessions. "See, I don't wear this plastic robe to make a fashion statement. It's hot as fuck under here. I do it so that when I get pelted with rotten eggs, I don't have to change clothes. It happens everyday; it's a regular part of my reality and part of the reason I'm not afraid to light that bitch up. My life is already a nightmare, she doesn't scare me anymore. But you'll forgive me if I want to spare the few friends I have left the nightmare sensation of some indignant Karen's spittle sliding down their cheek."

"Maybe we need to experience it," Keith broke into the utter quiet in the gym. He ran a soothing hand down my back, rubbing at my tense back muscles to my utter delight. "You never told me about these things, Sweetling."

"I'm a nurse," I shrugged. "I'm used to holding back for confidentiality's sake." He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look into his enraged face.

"You're not a nurse anymore. And even if you were, I believe there are 'no tolerance' rules in place to protect staff from physical and verbal abuse, correct?" I nodded, too choked up to answer. "Baby, I signed up to share my life with you. The good parts as well as the bad ones. You know that I won't tolerate anyone hurting my woman. Come out with us tonight." What could be said to such a heartfelt and sincere summons? I nodded at him languidly.

"Good girl," he murmured against my lips before claiming them. I whimpered and wrapped myself around him, melting into his strength.

"Alright, you two," Amanda laughed, clapping me on the back. "We still need to get little Tammy home so she can change for the club," Keith growled low in his throat, riling me up, before releasing me. I backed away from him on unsteady feet.