The Numbers Game (12 page)

            “I have
his mother’s number; I’ll just call her and ask where he is.” Easy as ABC.

            “What if
he’s gone off to Bermuda?” Tabitha snickered. Smart-ass. She probably just wanted
to rub Jasper’s potential failure in my face. “Are you going to buy a ticket
and fly round half the world for him?”

            “If
necessary,” Serena replied, just to piss Tabitha off., though really she was
not
that
desperate. If anything these years had taught her not to chase.
If someone wanted you, they would come and get you, pure and simple.

            “You
wouldn’t dare,” Tabitha screeched. Sometimes she was so gullible.

            “No I
wouldn’t.” Serena smiled. “He is just an option and nothing else.”

            She meant
it while she was saying it, but in the back of her head another voice was
already preparing a backup.  For now he was one of her many options but who’s
to say what he’d be in a few weeks time?

Markie did not hold
many secrets from Serena but one he did have was Lola.

            Lola was
Markie’s new personal assistant, who’d replaced the ancient but ever efficient
Margie when she retired last month. What with Serena’s new movie, the mayhem of
post-Christmas, and their ultimate ‘break’, Markie had never gotten around to
telling Serena about his newest recruit.

            No doubt
Serena wouldn’t have been very impressed. None of the girls in the office were.
Lola was a living, breathing specimen of everything her name symbolized,
everything evocative.  It wasn’t Lola’s fault she looked as if she’d just
stepped out of Penthouse Pet.  Her figure and face truly betrayed her
intelligence. At least her resume did her justice: since finishing at some
prestigious academy, her career had been filled with one executive role after
another. So Markie wasn’t some sexist pig; his decision to hire Lola was purely
made on merit, he’d made his choice before he’d even had the chance to see her
in the flesh.

At least
that’s what he told his staff.

            Serena
wouldn’t have bought it though. She might have had a very high ‘push me to the
limit’ threshold but she could also see through crap. Markie could go on and on
until he went blue in the face about Lola’s fantastic organizational skills and
100pm typing speed, Serena still would be more focused on the tits. Or more
specifically the way Markie acted around these tits. Really that was Markie’s
worst potential nightmare: to find himself alone in a room with Lola and Serena
at the same time.  Around Serena he had cultivated this image of being
unaffected and un-superficial; such a meeting would tear it all to shreds.

            The truth
was Markie was attracted to Lola in a sick, bimboesque sort of way. He had
never been one for the Barbie doll types before, but then again he’d never had
much contact with them until Lola walked through The Zoo’s door, wearing her
sheer blouses and high heels, which accentuated her lean yet strong calf
muscles. About the same time Markie had started to feel stifled in his
relationship.  Coincidence? Serena would think not.

            To
complicate matters further Lola also wanted to take her boss to bed. Markie
knew this without a word ever been said. She did things like licked her lips,
fluttered her lashes and bent over in short skirts to indicate her intentions. 
Markie had never before had anyone overtly flirt with him. He wasn’t sure
whether to let it be or reprimand her, put Lola over his lap maybe…

            “She wants
you bad, real bad,” Rick would say. Of course he was totally jealous; Lola only
flirted with Rick on Markie’s off days. All the other times, Markie was forced
to listen to her voice dripping with sexual connotations.
Can I get you
something to eat, something to drink? Shall I make some time in your diary for
private time? Here let me take a load of your back
(which of course led to Lola
removing a stack of mail from Markie’s desk and the aforementioned private time
referred to his perusing of the latest profit and loss statements, not a strip
show or the like).

            “Why don’t
you take her to bed?” Rick asked him on Wednesday as they were closing up shop.
It was seven thirty and Lola had only just skirted off home. Someone had earlier
that day informed her about Markie’s break up.

            “Because…”
Markie started, “Serena would kill me.”

            “Jesus
Christ, you guys are on a bloody break, you have an agreement." Rick gave
him the dirty look.
You are a disappointment to all mankind,
it seemed
to say. Where are your balls? Where is your hide? Did someone steal them when
you bloody hung them out to dry?

            “Listen I
still care for Serena. I don’t want to jeopardize what we’ve got.”

            “Well,”
Rick snorted, “To that crap all I can say is what Serena doesn’t know won’t
ever hurt her.”

            Damn Rick
was right, Markie realized. Serena would only collapse to pieces if he told her
he’d slept with a model Jordan look-alike. And that she needn’t ever know. It
wasn’t like he was gonna ask Serena about who and what she had got up to. Some
things were better left unsaid – better the devil you know…

            Dong!
Wrong. On second thoughts, maybe Markie would want to know about Serena’s
rendezvous’.  He had a right to know, didn’t he? What they got up to in bed,
whether they were good, bad or worse? And if he asked, surely Serena would need
to tell him the truth. So he too would have to tell her the truth, in an edited
form of course. Markie didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, he wouldn’t want
to say so and so had bigger breasts or a better style under any circumstances. 

            “I can
always fire her afterwards,” Markie said aloud.

            “Fire
Lola, Christ no!” Rick was obviously not pleased with the suggestion.

            “Firstly
man you’d get slapped with the biggest sexual discrimination lawsuit ever. Secondly,
don’t you dare take away from others that which you yourself can’t officially
touch.”

            “So maybe
I can just sleep with Lola once and then pretend it never happened.”

            “Honestly?
It takes a big man to make that work and you aren’t a big man.”

            Rick
probably thought Markie was sucker. That before long the tits would be reeling
him in and he’d be handing over shares in the business and setting Lola up in a
hush-hush condominium.

            “What if
there was a mutual understanding?” Markie suggested.

            Rick
brought an index finger to his mouth while giving it some thought. “That could
work, mutual understanding could work.”

            Of course
it could, Lola was a very understanding woman. Whenever Markie asked her what
she got up to on the weekend, the response was always the same:        “I screwed
my brains out.” And no, she didn’t have a boyfriend.

            Hell, he
had to give it a go. God knows Markie would kick himself in twenty years for
not trying.

The next day Lola wore
a white g-string to work. Markie knew it was white because like all guys he had
a radar for such things - must be from all the practice playing “Spot the
G-String” games.

            Serena
never, ever wore a g-string, no matter how many hints Markie dropped.  Her
preference was lacy black panty briefs because they were ‘comfy’ and
‘unobtrusive’. She didn’t like things stuck up her ass unfortunately.

            “Any late
changes to my schedule?” Markie asked as he walked in through the door. When he
had last checked, his day was packed with back to back meetings, some with
current clients, and others with prospective. Today of all days he could do
with a cancellation.

            “Sorry,”
Lola smiled, “it’s still as horrendous as before.”

            That was
her way of being a sadist. Pre-Lola, Markie had enjoyed the luxury of being a
Managing Director through and through. He came in late, went home early if so
desired, enjoyed elongated lunches on the company’s expense account. Margie had
never even battered an eyelid. She came from a time where lips stayed sealed,
spines stayed bowed. Needless to say, it was good while it lasted.

            The advent
of Lola brought a different tide however. Like most twenty four year olds, Lola
had a bundle of energy and ambition to boot. Within the first week, she was
casually leaving books like “The E-Myth” and “Cashflow Quadrant” on Markie’s
desk; in the second, Lola had sat him down and gave Markie a talking to. This
was when she revealed she was not going to be any ordinary personal assistant.
Lola aimed to be the best - and to be the best, Markie also had to strive for
his potential.

            At first,
Markie had been pissed off. What nerve this girl had walking into his office
and acting as if she was Miss Frigging-Know-It-All! How dare she tell him how
to run this business when it has quadrupled in growth and income in two years
time! This was obviously before he noticed the tits.

            “Listen I
know I may be out of line,” Lola had said (and of course she was).  “It’s just
I can’t help but be a thorough worker.” And a part-time perfectionist, she
failed to add.

            “I will do
whatever I can to get Guerrilla Zoo to number one within the next two years.”

            Markie had
raised his eyebrows to this. Two years meant Lola was thinking long-term. Everyone
knew the staff turnover in advertising was atrocious, approximately twenty per
cent per annum. Maybe he was onto a good thing, Lola’s tyrant nature
notwithstanding.

            So he’d
given in to her that day, to the memos on marketing strategies and the daily
list of hot leads. By week two, Lola was almost indispensable. Even if it meant
working an extra five hours a day, if it was beneficial for The Zoo it was
beneficial for Markie. 

            And Lola
no doubt too. The girl had him twisted around her pretty manicured fingers.
They reminded Markie of Biffy; why had he not noticed them before? He hadn’t
noticed many things about Lola actually…or maybe he had but never interpreted
their meaning before. The way she wiggled her ass as she strutted his office,
the way she was always bending over, stretching, up, down and around.

            Two weeks
ago she had planted a desk right outside his office, against the glass
paneling. Lola said it was because she wanted to his right hand woman and more
easily at his beck and call. To Markie it was nothing but a distraction. Every
time he looked up from his desk all he could see were Lola’s titties staring
back at him. Plus she was always doing something erotic, like sucking on her
pen or lifting her luscious blonde hair away from her neck. Markie was tempted
to call Lola into his office right then and there (all he needed to do was wave
to her) but what would he say?
Sorry but I can’t concentrate because you
look like a swimsuit model and that’s a reason in itself.
He should’ve but
he couldn’t, embarrassment kept Markie at bay. His only saviors were those
meetings that ushered him away.

            “So are
you going to make a move?”

            Rick stuck
his head into Markie’s office. Lola was obviously away from her desk, in the
bathroom probably touching up those glossy crimson lips and spraying on some
alluring perfume. Speaking of perfume, Lola reminded Markie of the women he
bumped into in France. Always dolled up to perfection, makeup full on, perfume subtly
applied, smelling as if she just stepped out from behind a Christian Dior
fragrance counter. But maybe that’s because Lola was French, born and bred in Cannes.

            “What do
you think man?” Markie replied, trying to keep his voice low.        Rick
looked like he wanted to slap him on the back.

            “Whoa, way
to go, mate! Mission determined, now time for takeoff.”

            “Rick, I
didn’t mean it in the cocky way, I asked that question seriously. What do you
think?”

            “Hell, the
girl’s wearing a g-string for the hundredth day in a row. I say any girl who
wears a g-string day in and day out is worth going for.”

            Great,
just great, Rick uses underwear as a deciding factor in beginning an office
affair.  Markie was just about to ask for a more valid reason when a soft
clearing of the throat floated in from behind.

            “Am I
interrupting?” the voice asked.

            Damn,
Lola! How long had she been standing there?

            “No, you’re
fine,” Markie stammered, trying to get himself back together. Rick at this
point was of no use to him, busy holding back the sniggers.

            Lola
entered (or should he say sashayed in?) and dropped her latest top-notch
research into the paper tray on Markie’s desk.

            “It’s all
there for the taking,” she smiled and then winked. “The research that is.” Then
two seconds later, Lola left the room.

Oh damn,
Markie was dead meat.