"Are you sure you won't give up that one account in the downtown area?" Janice van Woehoek asked. "It's not adjacent to anything in your territory. You mostly have small accounts in the suburbs and bedroom communities. And don't tell me they're on your way home, either. I've seen the time stamp from when you log your orders, and you have to double back to get home."
Caitlinn Johnson shook her head. "I think I'll keep them. They're not a big producer, but they're steady. Besides, it was my first account, and I feel kind of attached to them."
"But are you giving them good value? Or are you letting sentiment get in the way?"
Caitlinn's lips thinned and she forced a smile. Sentiment would never cloud Janice's mind. She was as hungry as they came, and pushy as all get out. In the last year she'd taken over two other territories by taking the accounts one at a time, and now she was after hers.
"I'll keep this one," Caitlinn repeated. "Besides, it's on the way between my apartment and the office. It's just so convenient, especially compared to the others, and I can stop in and see them first thing in the morning."
Janice shrugged as if it meant nothing to her. "All right, then. I was just trying to look out for our customers."
"And you'd do anything for our customers."
"Well..." Janice grinned. "I wouldn't sleep with them to land an account, but I might consider a little less."
"There are limits," Caitlinn agreed. She stuffed the last of the paperwork in her portfolio. "Gosh, just look at the time. I've got a few calls to make. I guess I'll see you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," Janice nodded absently. After Caitlinn left she relaxed and sipped her tea. She was making money hand over fist, but it wasn't enough. She'd already taken half of Caitlinn's accounts—she'd learn about that at the next staff meeting—and this would effectively close her out of the downtown market. The woman was right, this account wasn't a big producer, but if she could get them to change their sales representative, it could be. And all of the commissions would go to her. That would leave Caitlinn without enough income for the company to justify keeping her around. And when she left she'd grab the woman's other accounts. She smiled around the rim of her tea cup. Now how can I get in there? she asked herself. What can I do to take them away from Caitlinn?
Caitlinn swung into the parking garage, her mind on the conversation she'd just had with Janice. So now I'm the Queen Bitch's target, she said to herself. She may be trying to cut me out of the picture, but not with this account. I'll hold on to it until the company fires me. Which, if the Queen Bitch has her way, won't be long. She's already done it to two others.
She sighed and got out of the car. It was a sunny day with a few scattered clouds and a warm breeze winding through the concrete canyons. She looked up at the blank rows of windows. So many businesses, so many accounts, and so many people. She wondered if she should do what Cindy had done: she did cold calls, walking right into a business and pitching them. It took a certain amount of nerve to do that, more than most sales people had.
She hoped it wouldn't come to that, but you never knew. Maybe she should spend more time in the suburbs. You didn't need a big account, though most salesmen thought that way. You could have a successful income with a couple of dozen smaller accounts. And if someone took them out from under you, it wouldn't cut into your income very much.
She stopped in the Ladies Room to check her hair and make-up. She'd just gotten her dark hair trimmed, and she thought it gave her a more professional look. It went with her light gray suit and light pink blouse. Some of the gals thought you had to dress in dark colors to be seen as 'serious'. Perhaps, but she'd always believed you had to 'fit in'. When you did that, sales followed.
Look at how successful her oldest friend in the business was. He was the sales manager for a software company. He'd told her that the entire staff of the company was heavily into leather, and after hours some of them tied each other up in some perverted ways. He always appeared in a three-piece suit from Brooks Brothers. He was short, pudgy and balding, and looked like an investment banker. Was it any surprise that he had every brokerage on Wall Street as an account? He looked like them.
"Hey, Ronni," she said when she pushed through the door of Hubbard & Associates.
"Oh, hi, Caitlinn." Ronni was blonde and perky, which was a winning combination in a receptionist. She was also very visibly pregnant, and in unguarded moments Caitlinn had seen the woman smile.
"How're you feeling?" she asked the receptionist.
"Like a barge," Ronni laughed. "I can't believe how huge I've gotten."
"That's one of the joys of pregnancy. I couldn't believe how big I got before Alexa was born. How are your feet? Mine always hurt."
"Mine have for months," Ronni said. "So, are you here to stock us up on paper and other office supplies?"
"Your next order should arrive tomorrow," Caitlinn said. "No, I'm here to see Tom Anderson. There may be some other things I can do for you."
Ronni ran her finger down the screen in front of her. "Ah, yes, 9:30." She pressed a button on her desk and the door behind her clicked. "Go on in. I'll let him know you're here."
Hubbard & Associates was the only company she knew where you entered through a cubicle. She had to turn left, and then right, to get past the cubes. A couple of women at desks looked up when they heard the door. Both smiled in recognition.
"Hi, Caitlinn," Doreen Gray said. She was sort of an internal receptionist, and smiled happily. "The usual?"
"No, actually," Caitlinn said as she removed her skirt and panties. "I'm here to see Mr. Anderson. Ronni said she'd let him know I was here." She draped her things over a hanger and put it with all of the others.
"Then you know the way to his office."
"Silly, of course I do. I used to work here."
"I still don't understand why you left."
"I thought I was serious about someone," Caitlinn said, "and I felt like I was cheating on him."
"I don't see a ring," Doreen said.
"It didn't work out. His mother talked him out of it."
"That's a shame. Still, a Momma's Boy wouldn't be any picnic."
"Yeah, we'd compete for him." Caitlinn sighed. "So that's all over with, and I'm back on the open market."
Doreen nodded and went back to her computer screen. "We can talk later."
Caitlinn picked her way through the maze of cubicles, greeting a few familiar faces. It was mid-morning, and a lot of the people were probably at break.
Mr. Anderson greeted her affably when she knocked on his door. "I wasn't expecting you until this afternoon."
"Yeah, well someone I know reminded me why I should visit my most important clients first." She had a seat in the visitor's chair in his office. "How's your—"
"Before we get into that," he interrupted, "care for some coffee?"
"Sure." Her pulse pounded. She'd been hoping he'd ask.
She rose as he did, and followed him down the hall. "There's been some remodeling since I was here last."
"Yeah, we had an OSHA Inspector in," Mr. Anderson said over his shoulder, "and he recommended a lot of changes. Most of them were things we were already going to do."
"You had OSHA in? Weren't there ... problems?"
"Not like you might think." He paused outside the door to the Break Room. "You should visit more often. A lot of us have missed you."
"I intend to," she said. "I miss this place."
The Break Room was typical of every lunch room in the city: a counter with a sink under some cupboards, an industrial-sized coffee urn, a microwave, a refrigerator, several tables, and two large trash cans. Mr. Anderson pushed through the door on the other end of the room, Caitlinn on his heels.
Several of the beds were already in use. He made for the vacant one in the corner, unbuttoning his shirt as he did so. Caitlinn had worn a sweater just for this visit. She slid it over her head and unfastened her bra. She could already feel her nipples tightening in anticipation.
Somewhere in the walk across the room Mr. Anderson's cock had stiffened. Caitlinn wrapped her hand around it and began stroking him. His hand went to her breast, squeezing the soft flesh and pinching her nipple. His lips sought hers, and they shared a friendly kiss.
After a moment he pulled free and lay on the bed. She straddled his face, lowering her suddenly dripping pussy directly on his mouth. She settled across his body, sucking his cock and fondling his balls.
Mr. Anderson knew his way around a woman's private parts. She could feel his tongue squirming through the folds, making her shiver at the touch. When he lapped at her clit she had to pause as a flood of sensation raced through her. When he followed that by flicking his tongue into her entrance, she knew she couldn't wait.
She turned and impaled herself on his length. This was what she was missing in her private life. It was funny that she had to visit a client in order to get laid.
"I'd forgotten how enthusiastic you are," Mr. Anderson said. He thrust up into her just as she shoved down.
"I love how you open me," she replied. "God, I can feel you sliding so deep."
"It only gets better." He twisted slightly, and touched some nerves that had been neglected. A flash of heat raced through her, leaving her gasping.
"Do that again!"
He did so, and she clenched around him.
.... There is more of this story ...