Memory Traffic

Chapter 9: The Infiltration

The closer we approached Tommack, the more imposing of a figure he became. Arms bulged as he worked, shoulders broad and expansive. Sharon showed no fear as she strolled toward him, but I nearly stopped in my tracks when he straightened at our advance. He was tall for a Vegan, nearly six-foot, and had an underbite that jutted his chin out, giving him an English bulldog vibe. He was, in a word, intimidating.

He glanced at Sharon before turning his attention to me. I reflexively swallowed and tried not to break out in a sweat.

"Well, now, look what we have here," he said, running his eyes up and down me. I could see the hunger in them. "You must be the new hires."

"Yes, Sir," Sharon said. "We were told to report to you."

He ignored her and continued to stare at me and polish the railing, but his movements changed in a subtle way that screamed, I want to fuck you, more than it said, Get the metal clean. Especially since that particular section was already gleaming. I futzed with my hat and remembered to let Sharon do the talking.

"Sir?" she prodded. "Our assignments? How can we be of assistance today?"

He gave me one last lingering glance before swinging his gaze to her, finally stopping what he was doing. "Let me guess. You've just returned from off-world, and your little friend here is shy and doesn't talk much."

"Yes, Sir. That's about the gist of it."

He looked at me and licked his lips. "That's okay. I don't need them to talk much anyway."

Sharon looked from him to me and back before blurting, "Sir? That's my husband you are talking to."

He chuckled, low and guttural. "You're husband, huh? Well, that's just the most disappointing news I've had all morning." His scrutiny of me didn't change.

Sharon shifted her weight, taking more of a defensive stance as a precaution. "Perhaps, Sir, but the fact remains that he's taken."

I felt trapped by his gaze, my heart hammering at the feeling of being prey. I wasn't sure if I was relieved that Sharon was sticking up for me or embarrassed that she had to protect me. Either way, it was all I could do to try and stay loose and keep my face emotionless.

He shot me a wry grin and a wink, then chuckled, holding up his hands as if in surrender. "Okay, okay, I'll back off." He pointed to a nearby collection of yellow and blue buckets. "You'll clean bathroom mirrors today, starting at the top floor and working your way down. Grab a bucket and hit the service elevator. I'll let them know you're coming."

More than happy to put some distance between him and me, I turned to the buckets and grabbed a blue one. I started toward the area where he'd pointed for the elevator.

"Hey!" he called out. "Where are you going?"

I turned slowly. "To the top floor? To clean mirrors?"

He scowled. "Not with the toilet cleaning bucket, you're not. You do know how to clean mirrors, right? Get the yellow bucket."

I switched them fast. Sharon and I headed to the elevator before we could garner any more attention. I felt his eyes bore into my backside. Is this what women feel like? My new-found perspective was contemplative.

We didn't have to wait long for the elevator. When the doors finally shut, I exhaled.

Sharon chuckled. "It's not fun, is it?"

I flushed red and stared at the ceiling as she outright laughed. "Sweet baby Jesus, I thought he was going to demand favors or something," I protested.

She elbowed me. "Yeah, but you'd have taken one for the Team, right?"