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The Bookkeeper
Ah, sex at work with an attractive partner! What could be more exciting for a bored inside sales executive? Hope you all enjoy and please feel free to post comments ... all are welcome!
"Well, I'll be taking off now Jack," called out Hal, the sales manager, as he headed toward the back door. "Make sure that you don't lock in our auditor when you leave!"
"Oh, is she still here?" I asked, jumping up and stepping over to the door. "I thought she would be finished and gone by now."
"So did the rest of us, but I guess she had to stay on to finish up this afternoon," replied Hal over his shoulder as he continued down the hall. "She's still in the front conference room, so be sure to check on her."
"Yeah, Bossman! I'll be sure to check on her!"
Hal didn't realize what he was setting me up for, and neither did I at the time. For the last two weeks, we had had an outside bookkeeper brought in to audit the financial books. The first couple of days, there had been two of them, but just one remained to complete the audit. She was a rather severe looking young woman, always dressed in stiff dark business suits with high collared heavily starched blouses. Her black hair was pulled tightly into a twist on the back of her head and her dark eyes peered out through the heavy rims of her eyeglasses. It only took a couple of days before some of the fellows out back began to gossip about the strange woman in black who always wore this serious face and walked in a very military style. "Ilsa of the SS," I had heard one of the guys call her. Another referred to her as the "Ice Queen."
Since I usually worked late and was always the last one out of the office, it had fallen to me to let her out before I left. Our first meeting on Wednesday last week was pretty brief, just long enough to take care of business so I could lock up. On the following day, she asked if I would mind staying a little later so that she could finish up what she had started. What was another fifteen minutes, I thought. Fifteen minutes turned into an hour, but she did apologize. Earlier this week, she asked the same favor and since I was waiting for a call from the West Coast, I didn't mind hanging around. In fact it gave me a chance to talk with her a little as I escorted her to the door. I found out that her name was Carmen, not Ilsa, and that she was from the headquarters of her firm in Chicago and traveled almost all the time. After her stay here, she was off to some place in Iowa, then Denver, followed by Seattle, and so on. I definitely got the feeling that she wore the serious straight face because she was shy and never had time to get to know anyone.
"Well, why don't you let me get you out of this place for lunch tomorrow?" I had suggested.
"Oh, I don't think I could do that," she had replied. "Company rules. I can't let you buy me lunch."
"We can go Dutch if you want," I had gone on. But she would have none of it.
"Thank you for asking, Jack. But I think I had better not."
She flashed me a quick little polite smile that showed off her perfect teeth for a moment before she ducked into her rental car and was off. The next couple of days I did manage to catch a glimpse of her working away as I passed by her room. She looked up briefly and smiled but always went right back to her work. She spent most of her time in the conference room or in meetings with our controller. She ate the lunch she brought with her. She did take a break or two and sat outside on the decorative park bench in front of the building that no one else had ever sat upon reading what looked like a cheap romance novel. On Thursday, walking her to the back door a second time, I tried to ask her out to lunch again.
"I don't suppose you've changed your mind about lunch, have you?" I said wearing my friendliest winning smile.
"I really shouldn't," she replied looking away. "Company rules and all that."
"But you've been shut up in here all week and it's supposed to be a beautiful day tomorrow."
"Thanks for asking," she said glancing up at me. "You're really persistent and sweet about it, but I really can't."
"Suit yourself," I replied as I held the door for her to leave.
So now it was Friday and I recalled from earlier in the morning how she had looked up from her work for a moment as I stood by the fax machine chatting with a couple of the girls from customer service. For a moment I thought she was checking out my butt, but she turned away when I casually turned back to look. She looked up for a moment and smiled before looking back to her work. I could see the trace of blush flushing her cheeks as she scribbled with her pencil across the books in front of her. Later in the afternoon I had literally run into her as we were exiting the restroom.
"Sorry," I said, reaching out to help steady her as she stumbled a bit.
"That's okay," she whispered, likewise reaching out for balance.
For a moment we held onto each other. I noticed two things: her hands, resting lightly on my shoulders, were very small, delicate, and well manicured; and her slender arm felt very soft and warm to the touch.
"We've got to stop meeting like this," I laughed. "I think my boss is getting suspicious."
She paused for a moment looking up at me with her dark eyes. I had never seen anyone with black eyes before. Maybe they were just very dark brown, but in the light outside the restrooms hers appeared black and she just looked up, as if trying to look inside of me. For a moment I could see a flash of warmth in her dark eyes, the hot flicker of her soul sparking deep inside of her. There was a hint of Spanish ancestry in her facial features, with nicely rounded cheekbones and thin dark eyebrows. She let her delicate hands slip down my arms and fall back to her side. Then the cool look returned to her face, she cleared her voice and began to back away. I watched her closely as she turned and walked back to the conference room. So there was the soul of a woman underneath that stern cool exterior, even if it didn't show in the stiff, business-like stride she took along the hallway. As I walked along that same hallway so late in the day, I remembered that moment and that look in her eyes.
"Carmen," I called out as I approached the conference room doorway. "Will you need to stay late tonight?"
I was surprised to see that all of the books were stacked neatly on the table and her briefcase was closed. Instead of seeing her seated upright at the table with her calculator and pencil at hand, she was leaning back in the chair sipping from a can of soda pop.
"Whoa! I guess you're all set to go!" I said quite surprised. I had expected that she would have to stay late.
"Almost," she said before taking a long slow sip of soda. "I always like to enjoy the last few minutes of a job like this. You know, savoring the success of pressing the equals button one last time and seeing the numbers come out even."
"You accountants live a pretty wild lifestyle!" I cracked, trying to keep a straight face.
"I would expect sarcasm from someone in sales!" she replied quickly.
"Well, I can't conceal the fact that we play a little harder than the folks in accounting."
"Certainly not after reviewing some of your expense reports," she said. "Do you guys do a lot of client entertaining?"
"Hal's a pretty strait-laced guy so we have to be careful with how we spend the company's money," I remarked. "We have to have a good business reason when springing for dinner or hockey tickets."
She took another long sip of soda and pushed herself back a ways from the table. She re-crossed her legs, apparently unmindful of the rising hem of her skirt now resting above her knees and affording a tasty glimpse of her shapely legs encased in dark silk stockings.
"So have you got a plane to catch tonight?" I asked.
"Actually the first flight to Des Moines early in the morning and a two-hour drive in a rental car."
"Oh, an exciting time in the garden spot of the Midwest."
"Yeah, a real hot spot," she said looking off and away vacantly. She took a last sip of soda and set the can down on the table. "So what about you? Any hot plans this weekend?"
"I'm going with some friends to the big U2 concert tomorrow night," I said surprised at her interest.
"Sounds great," she said, looking away again. "I always miss the good shows."
"That's too bad," I said trying to sound sympathetic. "You probably don't get out much."
"No, not in a fun way," she said getting up from the chair and moving over to the large window looking over the front lawn. "The same hotels in different towns with the same set of strange faces all around. I'm so tired of traveling I would give it up tomorrow if they didn't pay me so god-damned much money."
"I know I get homesick when I'm out on the road too long," I said stepping over beside her near the window. The warm summer afternoon was turning into a gorgeous summer evening. "I can't imagine what a steady diet of traveling is like."
"Ain't no picnic, big boy," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "It was a lot of fun for the first few months. I had never been more than 100 miles from home until I left for college. Now, I've been nearly all around the world, and the novelty has definitely worn away."
"Say I'm not doing anything tonight," I ventured. "Why don't you let me take you out and show you around the town?"
She smiled a looked over at me. "Thanks, but I told you the rules."
"Screw the rules! I know of this really neat place to eat in Mex-Town and a couple of happening clubs in Harmonie Park. What d'ya say?"
"I'm tired of eating out and drinking in strange places," she said with a heavy sigh. "I really need some r 'n' r."
"Then how about if I cook you dinner at my place?" I said trying to find the right formula to get to her. "I even let my guests put their feet up on the coffee table if they want."
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