Chapter 4: Resolutions (Sort Of)

After a good night’s sleep, worries about the meeting with Ms Altropolina and Ms Barratt came back full force. I was totally oblivious to whatever I had for breakfast or whether anything unusual happened on the way to work. I got there early, as usual, but my efforts at working were akin to pushing food around on a plate rather than actually eating anything.

Shortly before ten, I arrived at Ms Altropolina’s office. The door was open. I knocked gently then entered when bidden.

“Glad you’re on time, Michael,” said Ms Altropolina. “Ms Barratt had better be here too or there’ll be consequences. Could you please close the blinds.”

I wondered what those consequences might be. Ms Barratt didn’t report directly to Ms Altropolina, so I didn’t understand what was going on. I drew the blinds so that the room was opaque to outside scrutiny.

“Thank you. Now take a seat over there.”

Normally I would sit directly opposite Ms Altropolina’s chair on the other side of her desk, but the seat she indicated was over to one side of the office and at right angles to her desk. Ominously there was another chair directly facing mine. Just as I was sitting down, Ms Barratt arrived.

“Good morning, Mandy,” said Ms Altropolina. “Please shut the door and take a seat over there.”

Ms Barratt sat down opposite me and glowered at me, but fortunately we were well separated.

Ms Altropolina got up and stood between us. “I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you but it’s in danger of harming the company. You’re two of my favourite people to work with and you’re both responsible adults so I’m going to leave you together to sort it out. Either you find a way to continue working together or the company will take action. The blinds are drawn so nobody can see in and the room is soundproofed so there’s no way people outside can hear you.”

Ms Altropolina opened the office door as if to leave, then turned back. “And I don’t want to see any bloodstains on the carpet when you’ve finished.” Then she left, closing her office door behind her.

I didn’t want to be the first to speak so I looked around the office rather than matching Ms Barratt’s glowering stare. That’s when I noticed the steady red light on Ms Altropolina’s phone. That meant it was active and someone was listening in. The only way I could think that might be allowed was if Rolf Magnusson had approved it.

That presented me with an ethical dilemma. I felt I ought to warn Ms Barratt of my observation, but then I wanted her to be forthcoming and forthright rather than inhibited by self-censorship.

Perhaps she mistook my musings for passive aggression but Ms Barratt spoke first. “You pervert, you know what you did!”

“Do you mean after the business meeting?”

Ms Barratt nodded.

“I’m not sure that I do. I told you I have a low tolerance for alcohol but you got me drunk anyway. I’m not sure what happened after that. I’ve just got an occasional flashback. I know I got you off, then you fell asleep before you could reciprocate.”

“I guess I did, didn’t I. Still, that’s no excuse.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you so I felt my way to the wardrobe, got a pillow and a couple of spare blankets and went to sleep in the living room.” I wasn’t going to mention giving myself a hand-job. If some of my emissions had landed on Ms Barratt, I wanted her to bring it up.

There was a prolonged silence. Then Ms Barratt asked, “Did you switch the light on?”

“No. You asked me not to.”

There was another prolonged silence. This time I took the initiative. “Look, we don’t have to socialise and we don’t have to be friends but I like my job and I want to keep on working here. How about we do our jobs as normal, although keeping personal contact to a minimum.”

“I suppose I can live with that,” said Ms Barratt.

“I guess we’d better let Ms Altropolina have her office back then.”

We both got up to leave the office. Ms Barratt was first to the door but before opening it, she turned and asked, “Did you really not switch the light on?”

“No, I didn’t. And I did not see you naked. Although you must have seen me in my birthday suit the next morning when you stepped over me to leave.”

Ms Barratt blushed at that, leading me to think she’d had a good look.

As Ms Barratt opened the door to leave, she added, “Good work on that fault report, by the way. The customer is so pleased they’re treating me to lunch next week.”

“Thanks,” I said, overriding my nature again.

After Ms Barratt had left, I decided to leave Ms Altropolina a message. I moved the two chairs so they were closer but still some way apart. Then I opened the blinds to indicate we had finished. I didn’t understand Ms Barratt’s obsession with my bedroom light but, relieved at the meeting being over, I returned to my programming work.

After lunch, I was concentrating deeply on a piece of code when Ms Altropolina startled me by saying, “Michael,” from behind me.

I looked up at the ceiling and rubbed my head.

“Very good, Michael,” Ms Altropolina said with a smile on her face. “How did your meeting with Ms Barratt go?”

“We’ve agreed to work together while keeping our distance. I get the impression there’s something she’s not telling me, though.”

“That agrees with Ms Barratt’s version. But keeping your distance might become a problem. If we arrange for you to visit customer sites, as an Account Manager, Ms Barratt is likely to be one of the people acting as your minder. We’ll tackle that hurdle when we get to it.”

Luckily, the rest of my working day was drama-free and turned out to be quite productive. I had finished the programming and was ready to start testing.

When I got home that evening, I found an envelope waiting for me with my name on it and a key to the new flat inside. The cleaners must have finished their work on schedule.

Saturday morning I vacuumed every inch of my flat and put clean linen on the bed ready for Jardine. Since I kept the flat pretty clean and tidy by habit, that left me with a few hours to kill.

I’d received notification from the up-market clothing store that the trousers I’d ordered had arrived, so I decided it was about time I collected them. Mrs Robins wasn’t working that day but the clerk at the Collections Desk tracked down the trousers and handed me a rather bulky parcel. Since I’d already paid, all I had to do was sign to show I’d received them.

The CornerStone office was on the way back to my flat so I went into work to kill a couple of hours. I didn’t fancy starting testing my module because I wanted a long run at it, so I scanned through the fault report register looking for faults that were taking the support team longer than might have been expected. As before, everything seemed to be under control. Then I scanned the unassigned fault reports and found a few that were trivial, including a couple that were straightforward user errors. I annotated those fault reports appropriately, taking me up to lunchtime.

The office has a small cafeteria but it doesn’t open at weekends. However there was an automated snack and sandwich dispenser for out-of-hours working, including weekends, and the contents were changed daily to guarantee freshness. I chose a Cornish pasty, a recent introduction I hadn’t tried yet. It was pretty decent considering I had to eat it cold.

Back in my flat, I checked my package and found it bulked out with what seemed unnecessary filler, but there were khaki trousers inside and they were identical to my first pair, so I put them away in my wardrobe.

Then I waited for Jardine.

When she arrived, on time and carrying a holdall, I couldn’t stop myself from hugging and kissing her. She was wearing comfortable, loose-fitting jeans, t-shirt and a denim jacket. And she had the girl-next-door looked down to a T with her minimal make-up. She looked nothing like a stereotypical prostitute.

“Someone’s glad to see me,” she said. “Okay to go freshen up?”

“Of course.”

Fifteen minutes later Jardine emerged from the bathroom wearing only a robe. “One of us is over-dressed,” she observed, as she headed for my bedroom.

I quickly stripped and joined her naked on the bed. We made small-talk for a while, during which time I couldn’t resist stroking Jardine’s bare skin. She felt so smooth and soft I just couldn’t resist. Jardine reciprocated by taking my cock in her hand and gently exploring it, causing it to grow to full hardness. I lightly stroked Jardine’s breasts, marvelling at how they felt both soft yet firm, and how they seemed to heave as they swelled.

“That’s enough foreplay for me,” said Jardine. “I’m willing and more than ready.”

“Was that foreplay? I was stroking you because it’s so relaxing, like stroking a pet.”

“Part of you isn’t very relaxed,” observed Jardine, as she grabbed a condom from the bedside cabinet and expertly sheathed me up. Then she got on her hands and knees and waggled her butt at me. “I want hard and fast.”

I was happy to oblige, and Jardine pushed back to meet my thrusts. Judging by her sounds of appreciation, Jardine liked my efforts.

“Oh God, yes, I’m nearly there. Play with my clit,” she said.

I had to switch from vigorous thrusting to rabbit-like hunches so I could reach underneath her and gently toy with her clit. Almost immediately I felt her whole body tense, then her vaginal muscles spasmed around my cock. If that was faking it, Jardine was a world-class actress. I was nearly there too. A couple more hard thrusts and I spurted into the condom.

I pulled out and we both collapsed, panting, onto the bed.

“God, I needed that,” said Jardine. “It’s been too long.”

“Too long?” I questioned, as I removed I removed the condom and tied it off so it wouldn’t leak.

“I’ve got exams coming up and a project to finish. I’ve cut right back on my escort work. Although I’m always glad to make time for you.”

Jardine leaned over and kissed me. I resumed caressing her.

I asked Jardine about her exams and project work and she willingly explained what she was doing, what she needed to do, and how much of her time it was taking up.

Jardine noticed my cock was hard again. She deftly sheathed me again then climbed on top of me, her knees either side of my legs Then she inserted my cock and lay down on top of me so her breasts were pressing against my chest. Then we talked. In such an intimate setting, it felt like Jardine and I could talk about anything and everything: no subjects were off limits. Every so often Jardine would squeeze her vaginal muscles to keep my cock hard and every so often I’d thrust with my hips while we talked and kissed.

“Did you go to CornerStone’s recent management event,” Jardine eventually asked.

“Yes. I wasn’t given a choice. How do you know about it?”

“A couple of my co-workers were hired for escort duty that day. I was asked but I turned it down.”

That unsettled me, the thought that one of my management colleagues knew Jardine well enough to hire her as an escort for the meeting. I had to suppress the urge to ask who.

“Even though you would have been well-paid?” I asked.

“My university course comes first. Besides, that sort of event is a bit too much for me. Did you enjoy it?”

I spilled the beans on the whole sorry saga with Ms Barratt. “I finished myself with a hand job, but I have no idea where the results went. I thought she was upset about finding my semen on her, but it seems she was more worried about whether I’d seen her naked.”