Life as a New Hire Ch. 03

"Desiree, can Cáel Nyilas walk me to class this morning?" Aya requested. The look Desiree burned my way was intimidating.

"Of course, Aya," Desiree relented. "Cáel, only take as much time as necessary."

"Nos morituri te salutamus," I grinned. I knew that was overly dramatic. How tough could a room full of third graders be? Aya took me by the hand and led me in. Wow! Her teacher was a hottie. A quick glance suggested she was unmarried and very interested in me.

"Ms. Reichmann, this is my Daddy," Aya announced loudly. Ms. Reichmann's eyes flicked down to notice my lack of a wedding band. I knelt so that I was eye to eye with Aya.

"Aya, honey, Father has to talk to Ms. Reichmann in private for a moment. Please take your seat and I'll see you before I leave," I smiled paternally at Aya. She skipped to her seat.

"Ulyssa," Ms. Reichmann bit her lower lip.

"Ulyssa, is there a place where I can talk with you in private?" I asked with open innocence and a heavy undercurrent of passion. It turned out there was an unused conference room at the end of the hall.

I left Ulyssa with a smoldering look that guaranteed me a call-back. If any of the kids had the faintest idea why she was so flushed, short of breath and happy, they gave no hint. Aya took excessive pride in showing her 'Daddy' off to all her classmates. Any time I detected a bully, I gave the 'I'm keeping an eye on you' glare. I was whistling as I returned to the car.

"28 fucking minutes!" Desiree screamed at me.

"I had a little chat with Aya's teacher. I thought it would be nice if Ms. Reichmann was aware that Aya was unhappy," I reduced our love-making to the bare bones, 'no mention of sex' facts. "She said she'd keep a special eye out for Aya."

"That wasn't your job," Desiree seethed. We started driving away.

"I doubt you'll listen to my..." I go out.

"Shut up," she interrupted. "You have nothing to say that I want to hear."

"You shut up and imagine for a second I don't hate you and that I'm pretty good reading women in a way you are unaccustomed to," I snapped back.

"Katrina is going to be hard pressed to save you from this outburst," she sneered vindictively.

"How about this; Katrina saw potential in you so she's given you a chance to restore your prestige. What you are failing to understand is the underlying concept of family at Havenstone. This means they put a premium on their children - their female children," I suggested.

"Protecting the next generation can't be a job for you. It wouldn't be for them. To those women, perpetuating their families is all-important and you must see it as an obligation handed down to you by all your Havenstone predecessors." See, I avoided saying blood lines and their fucked up Amazon heritage.

"I don't know what your mother did wrong. Whatever it is, Katrina doesn't care and she's the one that really matters," I prodded. "Useless pricks like Fabiola won't be of any use to you even if they did like you. Thus endeth the male blathering."

"How do you know it was my Mother?" Desiree asked after several minutes driving.

"Desiree, your father could have done a fan dance on a table at the Presidential Inaugural Dinner and the women of Havenstone wouldn't give a damn. From Fabiola's big mouth, I'm guessing your mother married a guy that the family didn't approve of. In the status-obsessed corporate culture we are stuck with, that has to be pretty dreadful," I finished.

We were almost at Havenstone's Corporate HQ before Desiree spoke. She had been positively grim, far beyond her normal grumpiness.

"I killed them," she stated in a cold, emotionless voice.

"Who?"

"My parents. When my aunt found me and told me about my true heritage and what my parents had done, I killed them," Desiree answered in the same lifeless tone.

"I'm not going to lie to you. That's totally fucked up, but then I'm not you and I don't have to walk in your shoes," I mused. "I'm certainly not going to give you sympathy, or pity."

"You are a horrible person for not having the strength of character to allow your mother and father to live with the choices they made. Killing them was a totally selfish act. Before you say 'you wouldn't understand', let me tell you that's bullshit. Like you, I had a mother and father. My Mom is dead and I miss her every day. I think you miss them and that's why you are so damn bitter."

"I should kill you for that liberty," Desiree informed me.

"Bring it, Kitten," I scoffed. "I'd kick your ass."

"What inspires that delusion?" she turned to me. We had parked in the garage by this time.

"I have righteous fury on my side. Against that, you have no defense," I grinned.

"I warned you against flippancy," she reminded me.

"Is that a demand that I present my righteous fury for your examination?" I countered. Silence. We went through the security rigmarole, put up the firearms. As we were leaving, I turned to Desiree.

"You would think those two educationally-challenged bimbos would have warned me I was carrying blanks," I griped. The two security babes' posture turned all agro on me.

"I really should leave you here with them for a few hours," Desiree threatened.

"Have I told you recently how much I find you to be a kind, beneficent, wise and gifted teacher and sensei?" I faux-pleaded.

"Shut up," she grunted as we made my getaway.

"I think I know why Katrina tolerates you," Desiree told me after a few second in the elevator.

"To try everyone else's patience?" I guessed.

"Precisely," she shoved me. "Stop being overly clever. It is unattractive in a male."

"Stranger danger!" I shouted (still in the elevator) as I backed into the far corner. "Stranger danger!"

"If I had a gun, I would shoot you," she glared. There was a glimmer of amusement as well.

"At this range, you would probably miss," I taunted her playfully.

Desiree trembled with conflicting emotions. She gave in, stepped up and punched me in the chest. I kept laughing so she hit me again, but she was letting a tiny smile creep across her lips too.

"Damn you," she ground her teeth, fighting her happiness. "Fine. Cáel, to my side." There I went.

"Kneel." I knelt. The elevator doors opened, Desiree stepped out, turned to gaze into my eyes then cruelly smiled as the doors shut and the elevator continued up. The looks I got from women as they accessed the device was priceless. It took a while for one to break the silence.

"What are you doing?" she inquired.

"My boss told me to kneel here," I explained, "so here I kneel. In nine hours, if I can still walk, I'm going home and taking a long, hot bath."

"You are just going to stay there for nine hours?" another woman groused.

"I'm an intern. An order is an order and it isn't like she's forgotten where she left me."

"Our male intern isn't nearly this nice," a third lady commented. "We call him the Chinchilla. When he isn't acting as if he's somehow valuable, he scurries about like a rodent." That would be Brian I was willing to bet. The women in the elevator were suddenly self-conscious they'd talked that way around another male intern.

"Do you have a nickname?" the third one tried to make light of the faux-pas.

"I think there are three in the running: 'come here', 'kneel', and 'shut up'. When I hear one of those, I assume they are talking to me," I joked. They snickered. God, I could have an orgy in this elevator. Thank goodness my libido was still slaked from nailing Ulyssa the teacher.

"Where are you?" Desiree snapped over the phone eight minutes later. I had her on speaker.

"I'm right where you left me," I grinned. There was a new crowd in my box. I was getting the impression the word of my fate was circulating around the building and women were slipping over to see for themselves.

"Are you an idiot?" she grumbled.

"I'll leave the evaluation of my mental facilities to the experts, oh glorious Boss of mine," I replied. "I would like to report there are two wonderful ladies from International Finance putting a shipping label on me as we speak," I lied. From the look of one of the ladies, that wasn't such a bad, or far-fetched, idea.

"Stand. Get off the elevator on the fourteenth floor and go to Conference Room L," Desiree commanded. "Do you need to write out your orders in crayon?"

"I'd prefer you use body paint," I bantered. The ladies around me didn't know what to make of the exchange.

"81 days, Jackass," Desiree promised balefully.

"I tremble in anticipation - no, wait, that's fear," I snorted in amusement.

"You are very irreverent," a lady onboard observed. This wasn't a good thing in her mind.

"I apologize, Ma'am. Reverence required me to become a eunuch and no job is worth my jewels in a jar," I bowed.

"I will report your poor attitude and mockery of your assignment to Tessa," she vowed.

"Very well, Ma'am..." I started.

"Astarte," she gave her name.

"Very well, Astarte."

"Please consider that I am doing precisely what I've been told to do and that my humor has made multiple travelers on this elevator smile," I continued. "Happy employees are more productive employees and barring being given something productive to do with my time, I've decided to give busy women a small bit of amusement."

Astarte had no good comeback to my defense. I didn't doubt Katrina and Tessa would get hate mail no matter what I said. The fourteenth floor job turned out to be transporting something from a director's safe to a bank vault. Drudgery followed - laundry, dinners, delivering a new car (I drove the company car back; Desiree drove the new car), picking up my suits and ending off where the day began - school.

I had barely exited the car when I heard a little girl scream "There's my Daddy". I sensed this was going to be a problem in the future. Aya didn't come running up to me. No, she made sure every classmate she could reach knew her 'Daddy' was here to take her home. Things got 'better' when she and some friends approached.

"Mr. Ruger (Aya's family name), is it true you are a spy?" a rather aggressive male classmate asked. I took a deep breath. My gaze made Aya looked down, embarrassed. I could sense her tormentors closing in. I knelt in front of Aya and tilted her chin up so we were eye to eye.

"Now, Sugar," I addressed her, "we've had this discussion before. You can't tell people what Daddy does. That would put a lot of good people's lives in danger."

"I expected better of you, Aya. You must never tell strangers what I do for a living. Don't forget that," I chastised her. Turning my focus to the surrounding children, "Forget that Aya ever told you I was a spy. Otherwise, bad things might happen to our family. Understood?"

They nodded, eyes wide with shock and fear.

See, Aya's Daddy WAS a spy, but no one could talk about it or people would die. In the eyes of a nine year old, that was so cool, if scary. The thing was, I hadn't lied. I had been evasive. We had been on the road for two minutes when Loraine conveyed a concept she was having difficulty with.

"Thank you, Cáel," she told me. "That was a very nice thing you did for Aya." I had to think of the clearest way to express why I had done what I had done, circumstances included.

"I'm not a father, but if I was and Aya was my daughter, I would defend her as the situation warranted - physically, or verbally."

"They pay you to be with us," Europa grumbled. I laughed - hard enough to hurt my sides.

"Europa, Havenstone doesn't have enough money to keep me on this job," I chuckled.

"Why do you do it then?" Loraine leaned forward.

"If I make it three months, I get a date with Desiree," I lied.

"Do you think she's pretty?" Europe prodded.

"No. She scares me. If I quit, I have to take her out on a date the next day," I continued fibbing.

"Stay at Havenstone. You can do better than dating a half-breed," Loraine stated. I digested that.

"Loraine, your weakness sickens me," I gave her a pained look. "Unsettling an opponent is acceptable. Insulting an ally is a quality of an immature and insecure mind."

"You don't talk to me like that," Loraine spat.

"Or what?" I mocked her. "Are we going to stop the car and take this fight to the sidewalk?"

"If we do that, I'm going to spank your pathetic ass and we both know it," I grumbled. "No, you'll have to hide behind Desiree and her sisters - the women you just insulted with an issue that is no one's business but hers. Are you going to show some courage and agree to fight me, or are you going to be worthy of your family, show some respect and apologize?"

"I don't want her apology," Desiree stated blandly.

"I'm not doing it for you," I told Desiree. "I'm doing it for her. She should have the chance to not grow up ignorant and rude." Loraine was forming up an angry retort.

"Cáel, please stop," Aya pleaded.

"Of course, Aya," I smiled at her.

"We are not finished. You are the one who is rude and ignorant," Loraine persisted. I ignored her. "I'm going to get you fired." Ignored again. "Say something!" Kept ignoring her. She hit my shoulder. Ignored yet again. She finally sat back in her seat, crossed her arms and sulked.

"Why won't you talk to my sister?" Europa inquired. I assumed she meant Loraine.

"Economy of motion," I answered. "She's not listening to me and she's upsetting Aya. Arguing with Loraine would only upset Aya more while accomplishing nothing."

"You are a jerk," Loraine seethed. Oh fuck...I knew that tone. How could I have missed it?

"She thinks you are hot," Europa smirked. Ah, sibling rivalry. Loraine prepared to hit Europa.

"In two more years I can tell her what a beautiful young woman she is," I 'told' Europa. "For now, I work for her family and she's underage."

"You think I'm beautiful?" Loraine perked up, anger forgotten. The wonder of teenage hormones.

I didn't respond to Loraine, which renewed her fury.

"Do you think I'm prettier?" Aya jumped in.

"Well, you don't have Loraine's deep blue eyes and Junior Miss physique, but you have the cuter smile and the boundless spirit of a winner," I winked at Aya. Loraine flipped back to pleased.

"What about me?" Europa prodded.

"Oh, you are a total hag," I sighed sadly. "It hurts me to look at you." Europa's jaw dropped then she hit me repeatedly.

"I give. I give," I surrendered. The conflict was resolved for the rest of the trip.

Aya was upset that Desiree wouldn't let me take her into the family's brownstone. After the chore was done, Desiree was non-communicative. I made it through the End of Day meeting intact with the hint that I actually did a good job. A bizarre conflict developed as I made my way to the elevator in my biking gear and a bulging dress bag - I was taking a taxi home.

Buffy and Helena collided with the 'new hires' over who had the right to bombard me with sexual innuendo. I dodged any discussion on Rhada, blushed through my hart cords saga as well as my solo attempt at moose hunting, and all fishing expeditions concerning my dinner with Katrina.

In the middle of my workout back at home, I got a call from the Desk Sergeant's daughter. Her name was Nikita Kutuzov - NYPD rookie patrolwomen and she exuded this raw confidence tempered with a suspicious nature. We agreed to meet for dinner. When we sat down at this Polish deli she frequented, she got down to brass tacks.

"Have you ever been in a committed relationship?" was her lead in question.

"Define a committed relationship," I countered.

"The answer would be 'no'," she sighed.

"Why should I go out with you?" was her next point of attack.

"I have a plethora of bizarre knowledge, I laugh at danger and have an incessant desire to learn," I answered. That won me some points.

"How much do you make a year?" she inquired.

"Go to the bathroom, take off your panties then come back and give them to me," I responded.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Your request was about as rude as mine," I sighed. "Listen, if you are looking for an excuse to not go out with me, I'll spill some water on the table, you can tell your mother I was clumsy and call it a night," I suggested. She glared, I looked bored then she got up and left.

I wasn't worried for a second. A girl hadn't dumped me on the first date in three years. When she returned Nikita passed her undies under the table. I took the offering and deftly pocketed them.

"$237,000 a year," I confessed. Nikita choked on her soda. "I do dangerous work."

When I said 'fat paycheck' I meant 'FAT PAYCHECK'. In retrospect, this was the shiny lure they hooked us pompous 'Cream of the Crop' doofuses with. My pay was probably a clerical error as I would have taken the job for far less.

"But you just got out of college," she choked. "Do you weapon test plutonium, or what?"

"I really can't talk about my job, Nikita. Most of it is mindless stuff a trained chimpanzee could do yet falls within the purview of corporate confidentiality," I told her. "I am on call 24/7, which is a bit sucky - reference my salary again. I also get long- and short-term disability, major medical, eye, dental and health insurance plus a generous life insurance policy and a 401K."

"They have you doing illegal things, don't they?" she leaned across the table.

"I refuse to answer on the grounds I'm on a date with a law enforcement agent," I parried.

"I can't date a criminal," she cautioned.

"Would it help if I promise to never get caught?" I tried to look innocent.

"That's a ringing endorsement for me leaving right now," she grinned. She wasn't doing that. They never did. It is not that women are sluts. I exude the promise of great, guilt-free sex and each one believes they are going to be the one that reels me in and tames me. This despite all the evidence to the contrary - namely that I do this with every woman I meet.

We finished eating, bought some drinks to go and took a walk. Somewhere along the way, I slipped my arm around her waist. Nikita took thirty seconds to bring it up.

"What's with this?" she prodded.

"I like the feel of your body close to mine, Nikita. If it bothers you, I'll stop," I offered.

She didn't stop me; she reciprocated the gesture and carried on. We talked about growing up; me in Chicago and her in New York City, missing one parent (her father divorced her mom, my mother having died of cancer) and having the other parent work long hours. She'd graduated from Queens College with a degree in Criminal Justice then gone to the Police Academy - she was a year older than me.

We parted ways outside the Deli. I gave her a tender French kiss. She wanted more. I wanted a second date so we parted ways with Nikita looking over her shoulder and grinning at me as she walked away. Girls like it when you only have eyes for them. My bicycle had barely gotten on the road home when my phone rang - work.

I had to go to corporate and meet up with Desiree. I called her and gave her my location - I was in the wrong direction, farther from the workplace than normal. She grudgingly agreed the best course of action was to come get me, though the purpose of the assignment wasn't given. Desiree didn't utter a word as she picked me up and drove to the work site.

We ended up at the children's house. Desiree parked the car and led me, in my bike clothes, up the steps of the townhouse. The looks we were greeted with weren't promising. The woman at the door was an older version of Loraine - not her twin but closely related. I had barely crossed the door sill when the nature of the problem became evident.

Aya was screaming. Desiree and I were kept in the entryway for a minute until a more mature woman came gliding down the stairs, clearly steamed and, upon seeing me, livid with rage.

"What have you done to my child?" the older woman seethed.

"I'm not sure what you are talking about," I answered.