Bad Girl Pt. 03

Mom can't fire them, but she's taking notes and denying many of the obscene asks that have been requested. Their company is set up to allow those requests to get auto-approved if something isn't authorized in thirty days. Mom is pissed at these people and is giving them hell. She inspires me in so many ways.

I explain to Bill, "Fuck you! You got shot again by a crazy woman. Shit happens. Look at you; you are the proverbial hitting the broad side of a barn. You're a HUGE target. A blind person hits you half the time. Get over it. I'm paying you big money to help improve our company. Here is a pad of paper and a pen. Sit up, take notes, and fucking talk to me or fall asleep. Just don't sit there with a fucking thumb up your ass or so help me I will go crazy on you."

I was breathing heavily from not breathing as I was yelling at him. Bill, for his part, is staring at me, probably wondering where that came from.

I explain, "You sit here all day looking depressed. You never smile, you don't follow conversations, and you won't do anything but eat, drink, shit, and fart. Yes, I heard that one when I walked in here. My God, was that awful!"

Finally, I get a grin out of Bill. I am reduced to discussing farts with the man I love. Fuck me, I am in love.

Bill comes around, "OK, master." He grins at me. "We left off discussing the need to have some management locally to manage the people that are there. Bigger companies will have more managers. I have a chart that we came up with that talks about the numbers of employees and the number and levels of management that we found worked out best.

"Interestingly, IT requires more managers than maintenance or HR does. R&D needs the least management. A lot of peer review helps them more than a manager. It's actually fascinating the differences in management by profession. Like you and your mother, we have many companies of all sizes, and the ratios of one apply to others of the same size. It's not so much what the company does as what the people do that determines the amount of management needed."

He blows me away with his knowledge, insight, and his passion. I never would have thought that he would develop like this. I felt that selling advertising was his limit. I can't believe how much I underestimated him. It occurs to me, many companies could use this information, and he could teach this full-time.

He, he, no. I don't want to help my competition. I don't mind being helped, but we can expand and buy some of those companies with the extra money. I have our executive chef whip up something special for lunch. I am not about to watch him eat another hospital meal.

Cathy is an extraordinary chef. In no time at all, she makes a shrimp stir fry with fried rice. No salt added, but lots of flavor from the seasonings she uses. It's not dripping with a thick soggy sauce either. The shrimp and vegetables are still crisp even after driving them to the hospital. The fried rice has as much shrimp and vegetables as rice; it's incredible. I know Bill prefers Crab-Rangoon over egg rolls. She made him an even dozen.

Even before the lids were removed, the smell was amazing and has Bill sitting up to take notice. She made enough for four just in case Connie or Jane stopped by. Since they didn't, the two nurses ate very well today.

Bill is as alive and engaging as I've seen since he was shot. It's so good to see. I text Connie to let her know how the elite-level food went over. We have a good afternoon discussing work. Bill is back to his old self.

At 5:00, I start packing up to go home. Jane and Connie show up, and they have an amazing Italian dinner of breaded veal cutlet with spaghetti, a salad, Italian wedding ball soup, and garlic bread. They have excellent containers to pack the meal in and make it portable.

As luck would have it, they have four dinners. I am a bit surprised at that. I know they both love him and are intimate together. They could just have easily waited five minutes, and I would have been gone. They don't really want me around taking his time. Do they? So why get here early enough and invite me to eat with them? Is it because of the food tip I gave Connie? Indeed, she knew about his condition and attitude.

Either way, it was nice discussing what we have done. Jane is out of the loop and has no idea what we're working on or what Bill did for them. She just knows it is saving them lots of money. I explain to the student, and she is clueless. I explain what Bill did to me with the nails and screws, and her mouth hangs open. She has 100% understanding now. Bill's not even talking. He's smiling as I do all the talking, showing that I understand what we're doing. I see Connie smiling as well. She does know exactly what Bill did, which is why she mentioned it to mom.

Why did Connie mention it to mom? Technically, we are opposing companies. Yet, this will save us boatloads of money. Could it be that Connie ...? No, don't jinx it and think that. Let's see where this goes.

+++++

Friday, our meeting is interrupted with Physical Therapy. They want his arm to get a full recovery, and that means he needs to fight pain and move in ways that hurt. He's being a baby and avoiding pushing his body like he should.

I lay out a sly comment, "That's it? I've seen you lift a huge bar of weights. Now you can't lift your arm? Wow, you've turned into a wuss."

I know he was shot, and the muscles are healing, and it probably hurts like hell. The cute therapist wants him to do more, and my prompting is making him work harder. The pretty girl smiles at me when Bill isn't looking, and that made my day.

+++++

A week later and Bill goes home. The nurses are unhappy to see him go. Nothing has been said, but I got the distinct impression that they gave him blowjobs at night to help with his healing. I bet there was a long line for that job.

Mom and I are at the hospital for moral support. He was protecting us, so it seems fitting for us to be here. I notice that mom and Connie seem like close friends. With all that happened and that we have been through, I can understand that. They have a lot in common, and let's face it, everyone loves Bill. He is still a huge scary, and intimidating man who, deep down, is wonderfully nice. I need to get him back. I have no idea how, but I will.

Bill can walk and move around, but he can't wipe himself yet, and cutting food is hard. There is always plenty of help around.

+++++

Bill's point of view:

Today is Tuesday, my first day back at Global Advertising. I hear voices at the front door. I dread opening the door. As I open the door, I am expecting a huge shout of surprise or welcome back. There's only a new girl I don't know talking to our receptionist. She smiles and waves at me but continues talking. I walk through the room and expect something in the big room of cubicles to pop out at me. Nope.

Everyone is working at their desk. They smile, throw kisses but are otherwise busy on their phones. I relax. I open my door thinking I am safe. Nope, not even close. As I opened my door, 100,000 of those yellow, red, blue, and green children's balls from playlands were in my office. Notice the word were. With me opening my office, they all come tumbling out. Quickly. I CAN'T CLOSE THE DOOR!

It takes no time for the entire floor of the office to be covered in these bright multi-colored balls. I can only laugh. All the phones hang up, and they shuffle their feet to get near me for a gentle hug.

I look closer, and it gets worse. My walls are covered in sheets of hunting orange wrapping paper. They must have a hundred "No Hunting" signs in my office and cover everything. Every item in my office is wrapped in wrapping paper. You know, like for presents. They couldn't find hunting paper, so they bought paper with animals on it, the kind of animals for toddlers.

Just when I didn't think it could get worse, it did. Sandy hands me a set of my fatigues and points at the washrooms. Five minutes later, I am in forest camouflage.

Sandy tells me, "Until you're healed, I expect to see you in the new company uniform for you. You stick out too much; everyone hits you, and this will make it harder."

Making their way from the back is Mom, Jane, Sophia, and Vickie.

I look at Vickie, "I know this is your doing; I will get even with you."

Her mouth hangs open as her mom laughs good and hard.

I inquire, "How did you get the balls in there? Even I couldn't close the door once it was open."

Sandy steps forward, "Little David from IT is to thank for that. He took some thick cardboard that's the width of your door and taped it to the frame by the hinges and the frame by the lock. It was three-foot-tall, so we filled the room three feet tall of balls. He then almost closes your door; it's just a crack. He cuts the tape by the lock, then adds new tape from the cardboard to your door. We close the door the two inches, and when you opened, the cardboard is taped to your door, and the balls fall out."

I shake my head, "That is one sneaky guy."

I can't sit in my chair until I rip off all the wrapping paper. Now I see what's obviously my desk, monitors, computer, keyboard, and mouse, all wrapped up. Even the cables are wrapped up. I am handed a few more boxes.

I ask wearily, "Any sharp edges, ticking, or gun powder involved?"

They all laugh and assure me they're safe.

The first item is a heavy-duty first aid kit. Ok, that could be useful. The next item is a beautifully framed picture for my office that says, "Hunting Season" and then has a big red circle with a slash through it for "No Hunting." That will end up on my wall. They got me a hand-painted wood duck decoy. It's incredible quality. They say it's so people shoot the decoy and not me. That goes on the front of my desk. Then I get a picture frame for placing about a dozen pictures in. When they get the pictures of today printed, they will hang that up as well.

The final item looks like it might hold pool balls and two pool cues. Instead, it will hold several balls from the floor plus two tall tower shields from medieval knights. They're there for my protection, of course. All in all, it was cute. My family helps unwrap my office, and a few balls are left in my office and the office in general. All day, the people in the office, kick the balls down the aisles and in offices, having a blast. I am positive productivity plummeted today.

I get a big kiss from Sandy at lunchtime.

Speaking of lunch, since the hospital, the women in my life are feeding me like a dying man. I have had some truly unique things for lunch. Each tries to outdo the other. I expected this from Vickie and Jane, their fighting for my attention. Both moms are just as bad, if not worse.

Together, both moms catered the whole office today. That was sweet of them. I spent most of my working day with Vickie, and mom wanted to cuddle with me, while Sophia and Jane wanted to know more about the work we were doing. As they learn more, Sophia especially smiles more and now fully sees how it all works and how easy it will be because I have it all worked out already. The ratios of management and flexibility for the various departments are the key to everything. Well, that and some minor adjusting.

I have charts that say they need X people and managers based on the size and income. Occasionally, I add or remove someone based on the specific company. Mom has added some temporary people to help with major changes or restructuring.

I don't like doing my family working here at Global, they have no interest in advertising, and they want to spend the day with me. It's the least I can do for them.

I spend the last thirty minutes meeting with Sandy, where I sign off on buying an unused studio and refurbishing it for doing commercials and training videos.

After that, the family has decided that we're going out for dinner tonight. They're all taking me to Tony's, a place I love. The meal is fantastic. Then I find out that I have been had. Just next door is a museum that has a benefit going to help children. It's a casual event which is unusual.

I find out it's even weirder than I thought. They are auctioning men off. I freak out at hearing this. It takes all four of them to calm me down and explain that there's more. How is that better? I have been through this before, it doesn't end well.

I am sitting in a chair, sweating. Vickie sits on my lap, facing me. She kisses me on the lips, which surprisingly calms me down.

She uses her sexy voice to explain, "They are auctioning you off as a dance partner. No dates, no fucking, no dungeons, no restraints, and no nudity. All four of us will be watching you. They pick ten men and auction them off for each dance. All you do is a dance with the woman that buys you. Being the obvious stud you are, they will auction you off every dance. You will raise lots of money for a great cause. You're still in uniform; I'm taking your hat so those women can see how handsome you are. Knock them dead, Bill."

I feel a lot better. Mom takes me by the hand, up to the stage. Several women are up there, and they all want me; I can see it in their eyes. As I walk up, a group of women follows me. I almost laugh. They know nothing about me.

As soon as the dance ends, the auctioneer is on the mic, "We have a new man here. He's big, strong, and manly. However, you must be careful; he's still recovering from a gunshot wound from saving some friends. Yeah, several weeks ago, this is him. Let's get some big money. Let's start at $1,000."

WHAT? The highest someone sold for was $250, and she starts me at a thousand? They're going to discount me to get a buyer. Wrong. Immediately Vickie's hand goes up for 1,000. Jane yells out, "2,000." Another shouts out 5,000, and she wins. There will be plenty more dancing tonight.

The lady is older and very tall, at least six feet tall. She is dressed to the nines in a fuck-me dress, yet it has style. This lady is attractive, and she's also an excellent dancer. We have a friendly chat while we dance. All too soon, the song ends, and this time, only five are auctioned off. Last time, only five got bids.

Vickie and my family bid me up so that the rest of the night, I never go for less than $10,000. They call out, only three dances are left, Sophia wins at $25,000. Damn. She, too, is a fine dancer and thanks me repeatedly for saving her life. Her last line before walking away from me floors me.

Sophia says to me, "It's time you start dating again. You want children, and your mother wants grandchildren." She turns and walks away.

Jane spends $27,500 for the next to last dance. She doesn't talk at all. Her head is on my shoulder, and we dance quietly. I love my sister so much, and it's a sweet moment.

They auction the other four guys off, and they get like $2,000 each. Everyone wants me.

Vickie stuns everyone as she yells out, 50,000 dollars. 51,000 was yelled out, and Vickie says 60,000. Another woman yells out, 65,000. Vickie yells out $75,000. Everyone is stunned. It's just a four-minute dance.

They clear the dance floor for just the five couples. They play the London Symphony Orchestra's Star Wars "Main Title," a 5:20 song. She got her money's worth. It's an upbeat song, forcing us to speed up the dancing. No slow head-on-shoulder dance. After thirty seconds, everyone rushes to the dance floor. Mom looks like she wants to cut in but instead dances with Sophia and Jane near us. They were happy just to be close to us.

That was a fun night, something different. I danced with a bunch of women, and they raised a ton of money. I notice that we're all in our limo, and it looks like we're driving home. Vickie and Jane are under my arms along the back seat while mom and Sophia are across from us, each on a side.

Mom looks at me, "You took it well tonight. I half expected you to jump out of your skin at the mention of an auction."

I smile, it's fake, and they know it, "Oh no, the first mention of an auction, and I was shaking in my boots. The difference this time is that you and Jane were there. No way either of you let anything terrible happen to me. Yes, I had a momentary flashback, but then it faded with me seeing you two. When they mention dancing, then the fear comes back, I'm not that good. It soon became apparent that it wasn't my dancing skills that impressed them.

"All in all, it was fun. I enjoyed my time and met many nice women. Most were older, but that makes sense as they have the money. A few were cute enough to date, but they seemed too engrossed with my body to notice that I can speak."

Sophia buts in, "Try having large breasts; it's the same thing."

Vickie shoots her mother down, "I got big boobs as well. Sure, they're not as nice as yours. However, once you say something, guys snap out of it. With Bill, some were in a trance; they were lost looking at him and forget to talk. When I dated him, some women saw me on his arm and ignored me as if they looked much better. Some were, but it was frustrating at how infatuated they were."

Mom turns the conversation sideways, "You need a girlfriend, and you need to get married. Once women know you're married, we can be mean and more defensive."

I don't like this conversation. I'm not ready to date again; Vickie is still too raw, and I am incapable of loving a new woman.

Everyone else wants to say something, but I stop them all, "NO!" They're startled at my venom. "I am in no mood for dating. I'm still physically healing from the last one and mentally healing from the one before."

Everyone knows I mean Vickie; I won't say her name.

Sophia adds, "This isn't healthy for you."

She looks between mom and Jane. Fuck, I don't need this shit.

I yell out in my commanding voice, "RICH! Pull over now! Right here."

As Rich starts moving a lane over and slowing down, each woman is talking over the other. I don't hear a thing. As the limo stops, I jump out, push the body back in the limo that wanted out, and close the door. I start jogging home. It's 12:30 at night, I mean morning. The limo follows me until I cut through a park.

It's probably not a good idea to be out this late, but this will help clear my head. It's only five miles. I have jogged this far and back several times. My arm still hurts some, and I would not be good in a fight, but they pissed me off. Maybe I am better off dead. With a very sour mood, I pick up my pace. I doubt any thugs can keep up with my pace very long.

+++++

Connie's point of view:

I am frustrated, "Well, that did not go well."

Jane adds, "You think?"

Sophia says, "I had no idea the pain still lingers so much."

Jane rubs it in, "Vickie did quite the number on him. He's an alpha male, and she tried to break him. Stringing him up, stripping him, then family and co-workers are there to see him. Why are you surprised at the amount of humiliation he endures still? I agreed to help you out, but I don't see this working. He hurts too much; I don't think anything will work. You fucked up so bad, I don't see a way to fix it."

Jane asks, "Should we be doing this? I see nothing but more pain and humiliation for Bill. Why are we even bothering?"

I can't believe my daughter is so heartless. Vickie is in tears and unable to defend herself. Sophia is about to say something, but I cut her off.

I look crossly at Sophia, "Hey. I tried to help you much more than I originally wanted to. I think Vickie is one of the few women that aren't impressed with his wealth and genuinely loves him, and I believe that he loves her as well. The issue holding him back is his lack of trust. After the stunt she pulled, there is no way he ever trusts her again."

Vickie grins wide at me as she has just had an idea. It must be; I just shot the old plan to pieces.

Vickie is proud of herself. Her head is up high, and the confidence is back in her eye.