Chapter 5

Rhonda Jo Jones was an old, dear friend of mine. Hailing from the south, she was short, barely five feet in heels which was quite a contrast to my six four. Her long blonde hair framed a cute face, ending where her C-cup tits began. She had a little of that middle age waist we all get, but her legs though short were still awesome. Quite a dresser, she was always immaculate. And hot.

About six months after I started the company I was in need of a company spokesperson. Outgoing, sassy, well spoken, and professional I thought of Rhonda Jo. We had known each other for a long time, and she set the tone from the day I had offered her the job.

“Hey, you don’t have to do this you know.” she told me.

“Do what?”

“Just because we fucked a few times years ago, you don’t have to feel pity on me.”

Oops, did I forget to mention that? Well, about 10 years earlier she had just gone through a nasty divorce. I was free at the time, and did my best to console her. Well, one thing led to another and...

Sadly it had not worked out. I never did figure out why, we just sort of stopped fucking and went back to being friends.

“I’m not!” I said emphatically. “Don’t get me wrong, you were great in bed, but this isn’t a pity thing. I need a competent, professional person. In short, I need you.”

“No other strings attached?”

“None.” I assured her.

“Fine. As long as we’re clear. So, when do I start?” And with that, the deed was done.

I have to admit that although I had no strings attached, neither did I discourage any. About a year after she came to work for me, we were out of town at a big software conference. We’d both had a little too much bubbly, and upon arriving back at the presidential suite old flames had rekindled.

We argued about mixing business with pleasure for some time, but no matter how hard we swore to behave invariably wound up back in the sack, in the throws of passion. Finally we had settled into a comfortable arrangement, where it went unmentioned during the workday. Alone at a convention, or after hours though, we let our urges take over.

I shook myself back to the present as the leggy blonde walked in. “What’s up?”

“It’s the Hunsweiger account. I’ve got him sold. But...”

“Sigh. There’s always a but. Let’s have it.”

“Well, he insists on meeting you. Over dinner. Tonight.”

Damn. I had hoped to sleep in my own bed tonight, so I could have some more fun with Ezzy in the morning. But a late night dinner made the long trip back to the house impractical. Sometimes I regretted building my house so far out of town. I looked up at Rhonda Jo, and she was batting her long eyelashes at me, a sweet smile on her face.

“Groan. OK, what time do we need to be there...” I’m a sucker for a pretty face.