MRS. WAGSTAFF: THE WICKED WIDOW OF WAVERLY WAY

Chapter Thirteen

The next day when she arrived at Wagstaff headquarters, there was no discussion between Jane and Barbara Bottomly. Jane wondered just how much of what had happened the previous day was known to Barbara? How much was even planned by Barbara? She was definitely intrigued. On the outside, here was a woman, a man, a company, that appeared, to all extents, extremely proper and professional––true to their agreement. In the office and in public, Jane always referred and spoke to Harold as "Mr. Wagstaff," and Harold always spoke to Jane as "Miss Marlow." Only in private did they call each other "Harold" and "Jane." Yet, just beneath the surface, there was a bubbling sexuality that existed between them, and Jane was uncertain just who, if anyone, was aware of it. Obviously, there was Harold himself. But what about Barbara? Barbara had sent her to Mr. Sylvester, who was obviously privy to the sexual "idiosyncrasies" of Wagstaff Industries. Jane realized that she would have to play her cards right. There was much she found desirable about working at Wagstaff Industries; she appreciated more than most women would, the sexual nature of the company. But then, it was a business and not a brothel. Certain behaviors were to be expected. She would have to be cautious.

The day that Barbara Bottomly retired––her last day––was a day of mixed emotions for Jane. She had become very fond of Barbara and really wanted her there to help her understand the "ropes" at Wagstaff which she was still learning. On the other hand, Jane wanted the freedom to strike out on her own, and develop an even stronger employer/employee relationship with her new boss that she hadn't been able to do yet with Barbara hanging on his every word.

The first morning after Barbara's departure, Jane arrived at work early to be certain everything would be ready for Mr. Wagstaff's arrival. She had his coffee ready and his mail set out on his desk just so, as Barbara had trained her to do. Mr. Wagstaff arrived just at eight in the morning and headed directly into his office with a friendly but curt "Good morning, Miss Marlow." The morning was fairly quiet as Jane answered the telephone, took messages, and typed letters for several hours until Mr. Wagstaff buzzed her to come into his office. She grabbed her pencil and pad and quickly headed into the CEO's inner sanctum.

"Miss Marlow," said Harold Wagstaff, as Jane stood rigid in the doorway to his office. "I've concluded my urgent business for the morning. Please enter and close the door."

Jane did as he asked.

"Are you enjoying your new job, Jane?" he asked.

"Very much...uh, sir." She was uncertain how to address her boss, as he had suddenly jumped from her professional title to her personal one. Her boss, however, was unfazed and continued with his mixed message.

"I'm feeling rather randy, Jane," said Harold. "Would you like to take some dick-tation right now?"

"I'd love to," said Jane as she began to unfasten her blouse, falling quickly into her boss's spirit of play.

"Ah, you're such a good, good secretary," he whispered as he unzipped his trousers.

"Perhaps you should say 'sex-retary,'" Jane responded.

"Great idea," grunted Harold as he grabbed her hips and pulled her to him.

                                                                                   ***

The following days and weeks at Wagstaff Industries proceeded without incident. Not every day allowed Jane the opportunity to experience the delights of Mr. Wagstaff's amazing organ. Some days, her boss was simply too busy, and––believe it or not––some days she was too busy with multiple callers and other company business demanding her attention. She dealt with each duty and problem as she had at all of her previous jobs, and Mr. Wagstaff often told her of his pride in her work. Of course, he never mentioned her personal ministrations that took place every so often in his private office––at least not within hearing distance of anyone.