One Weekend with the Billionaire

Fetching Julia

*Braxton*

Jeff Thompson is standing with a group of low-level workers from his department, laughing, their drinks nearly empty and not for the first time from what I can tell. They are certainly inebriated. I stand back and study them for a while, planning how to say what I need to say to Thompson without losing my cool. Standing this far away from him, looking at him with my expensive liquor in his hand, wearing off-brand shoes and a suit that he’s worn nearly every day since he started working for me, just changing out the shirt under the jacket, I can’t help but wonder what he does with all of the money I pay him. He certainly doesn’t spend it on his wife.

But then, I’m pretty sure I already know. It is my understanding that he has a pretty serious addiction to pornography. That can get costly, once a person is entangled. I can’t help but wonder if perhaps he is also paying for s*x.

Why he would do that when his wife is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, I can’t say, but he has never struck me as a particularly intelligent person. In fact, judging simply by his work recently, it stands to reason that Jeff Thompson is an i***t, one of the stupidest people I’ve ever met.

I stare at him for a long time before anyone in his little circle looks up to see me. Then, they are suddenly all serious. No more laughing or carrying on. No more stupid, obnoxious jokes.

“Mr. Merriweather,” one of the other suits, a fellow I just hired about six months ago named Reggie Carter, says. “How are you, sir?”

I am obligated to respond, so I do. “Fine, Reggie, thank you. And you?”

“Good, good,” sir, he stammers. My attention is back on Thompson.

I clear my throat. “Can I speak to you a moment, Jeff?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound like I am about to lower the hammer on him. The hammer does need to be lowered, but this is a social event, and I remind myself of that as I step aside, certain that Thompson will follow me.

Stepping into a small alcove off to the side of the main room, near the bathrooms, I turn and look at him. He is obviously drunk, and I wonder how much of what I have to say to him is even going to stick in his head by tomorrow morning. I pause for a moment before I speak, afraid that what I might say could come out confrontationally, and that’s not what I want, not yet, anyway. “Thompson,” I say, looking down so that I can see into his eyes as he is much shorter than I am. “As you know, I wanted you to invite your wife to this social gathering. I think it is important that the company include family whenever possible.”

“Yes, sir, I know,” he says, his words slurring. “She’s here… somewhere.” He looks around, as if she has just wandered off, not as if he has told her to stand outside because he is ashamed of her.

I nod. “I am aware, Thompson. I found her standing outside by herself and invited her back inside.”

His eyes widen in surprise but then shrink again as he oscillates between what he wants to say and what he thinks I want him to say. Eventually, he settles on, “I’m so sorry she’s causing you problems.”

I take a deep breath through my nose. “On the contrary. Your wife is delightful. Unfortunately, she missed the dinner I had prepared for all of my guests.”

“Yes, well, unfortunately, Julia is not so good with punctuality.” He blames it on her.

I know it is not her fault. “Is that so?” I ask, my hands pushed deep into the pockets of my suit pants as I rock back and forth, trying to keep my temper. It is difficult for me to keep my patients with people like Jeff Thompson.

He sort of shrugs but since he is drunk, he nearly falls over. “I’ll make sure she gets something to eat when we get home.”

The way he says that makes me think he might be talking about something s****l, and it sickens me. “I’ve made sure she had dinner,” I assure him. The laugh that was about to come out of his mouth catches in his throat, and I can see now that he understands this is not funny to me. “I just wanted to make sure that you understand that the reason she came inside and is currently sitting in my suite, eating the same dinner everyone else was treated to, is because I insisted that she come. You wouldn’t be upset or angry about that, now would you, Thompson?” I ask, daring him to say that he would be.

“Of course not, sir,” he says, his eyes wide.

“Good. Because I want you to know that I do not appreciate men who belittle their wives. I don’t tolerate any sort of abuse or negativity of any kind, and if I were to find out that you were to go home and do something negative to your wife because of my insistence that she come inside and have something to eat, I would be… very distraught about that. I hope I’m making myself clear, because Thompson, you must know, if anything were to come of this, I would most certainly find out.”

He stares at me wide-eyed as he considers all that I’ve said, and I think there is a good chance he is hearing me, but I’m not convinced that he will follow what I am saying. He takes a deep breath and says, “I am always kind to my wife, sir.”

I nod and try to believe that, even though the exchange seems to convey to him that he’d better not yell at his wife when he gets home, I am not convinced. “Tomorrow morning, I would like to speak to you in my office at nine, understand?” I rest my hand on his shoulder to get my point across, not because I particularly like touching him.

He nods his head. “Yes, sir. I will be there.”

I pat his arm and move away from him before I am tempted to pat him harder. I know Thompson. Even if he was sober, he wouldn’t remember what I have told him. He most certainly will not be there at 9:00 in the morning, but in case he decides to take his frustration out on his wife, I will make sure that they are followed home so that I can check on her tomorrow. It simply won’t do to have a small, idiotic man like Jeff Thompson blaming his beautiful wife for his shortcomings.

I see several people who want my attention so I excuse myself from Thompson and head back across the room to speak to people I truly want to spend my time with.