Indiscreet Box Set

Chapter 3-2

“Give him the temp, Mavis. Everyone screwed the pooch on this incident. If this hadn’t happened, it would have taken longer and cost the company more to nail Robbins and uncover a b***h like Iris Mueller. Bartolomo’s wife had the morals of an alley cat, yet she did all of us a favor when she left, including Bartolomo.”

Mavis turned to leave. The Boss was distracted, not really on top of his game. “The meeting, at four?” she asked.

“Four is fine, Mavis. I will be here. Err…Mavis…do you have a minute?”

“Don, we may have quite a problem here, and I’m not referring to Bartolomo and Blake. To put it politely, you usually insist I hire full time employees, not temps…boss…you’re not listening to me.” She stood at the doorway, tapping her foot. “I gather you have a reason for this benevolence and your distraction?”

Donald tented his hands, thumbs together, a pose he often took when he was contemplating a difficult deal. He looked up.

Mavis was waiting. “Mavis, you know I am gay, right?”

“Yes, Donald, of course I know, that horse left the barn years ago.”

“Mavis, I want Brian Murphy. I’m not talking about a one-night stand here. I’m talking about the whole works. Can I still have him work here with me in full pursuit?” Donald watched as Mavis rolled her eyes.

“Donald, the same rules apply. We do not have a non-fraternization policy at Drummond. I told you in the beginning they don’t work. People are people. They meet someone at work and they want to screw. As long as you give him a choice and he suffers no consequences, if he refuses your attentions or decides to end the relationship, you will have no legal repercussions.

However, as I warned you when we adopted this policy, other problems can crop up. Sometimes the couple can’t continue in the same work environment and you lose a good employee, or they need to be moved to another geographical area. Sometimes the ex, if he or she is in a position of power, abuses the power, and we have to ask for resignations. It can get messy. In the past fifteen years, we have had three messes to clean, not many, considering. All three incidents were resolved without legal proceedings, but one almost made it to court.”

Mavis sighed. “It depends on the character of the players. I know you. He is the unknown in this situation. Your company, your choice, boss.” Mavis turned on the heel of the railroad spike encased in black patent leather she called a shoe and made for the door. She stopped for a moment, looked over her shoulder and said in an almost whisper, “Good luck boss. You deserve someone of your own after the Antonio debacle. I’ll be back at four to discuss what else I found.” She opened the door and left.

Donald reached over to the intercom and buzzed Sally. “Sally, could you re-schedule John Blake for a Monday morning meeting at…say…eight-thirty?”

“Yes, Boss, and by the way, thanks for the chocolates. Makeup chocolates taste sooooo good.” Donald laughed.

“I’ll try not to shout at you, Sally.”

“Boss, you have been trying not to shout at me for fifteen years. Besides, I would miss my monthly allotment of guilt chocolate. I’ll call John Blake and set up the meeting. Do you need anything else?”

“There will be, but that is all for the moment. Thanks Sally.”

“I live to serve, Boss.”

“Right…” Donald said as he shut off the intercom.

Donald attempted to make a dent in the work that flooded his inbox. He couldn’t concentrate. His mind kept wandering back to Brian. Mavis’s reference to Antonio made Donald think. He knew himself to be a demanding man and an even more particular Master. He didn’t want to hurt the boy, he cared too much already and the boy had been hurt enough. Antonio’s infidelities had left Donald a very suspicious partner. He had serious trust issues. He could accept nothing other than complete obedience. He needed to slow down and take the time to ease the boy into his life.

Donald decided to make a list to facilitate his plans. He tapped his Mont Blanc on the legal pad he used for lists.

It left a splotch. One day he would remember to take his Aurora 88 with him to work. However, his employees had given him the Mont Blanc for his thirtieth birthday, and he felt honor bound to use it while he was at work, even though the damn thing leaked.

He put it down and picked up a pencil.

Ten minutes later, Donald had a list of what he thought he needed to do.

He made a few phones calls, ordering an extra desk in his office with a high-end laptop computer he figured the kid could network to his. He buzzed Sally and asked her to come in to his office with her pad.

“Sally, Brian Murphy is going to share my office and take care of my accounts and non-Drummond Realty related businesses.”

“Boss, are you sure about this? He’s from the mailroom.”

Donald answered with enough frost to float ice sheets in the Delaware in high summer. “Brian graduated summa c*m laude from Monmouth. He has degrees in accounting, computer science, and communications. He also has an MBA. He worked for John Blake in Accounting and was being considered for promotion into IT until Mueller and Robbins began to harass him. If anything, he is overqualified for this job.”

Sally’s jaw dropped. She heard Donald shout and bellow.

However, he never directed this level of cold, hard rage toward her before this.

“I am sorry Boss, although you might want to list Brian’s qualifications for the promotion in the announcement.”

Donald tented his hands and looked right through her. Sally began to fidget.

“You may be right. Write up a suitable announcement for posting. I want you to get everything that you can think of the kid would need: Web access, passwords to all of my accounts, business cards, stationary, and all the necessary accoutrements.”

Sally raised her eyebrow and said nothing, and neither did he. She walked over to the door, then stopped. “Boss…” she asked with some hesitation. “This whole thing became personal, didn’t it?”

Donald, letting go of his brief burst of anger, smiled at his assistant and said, “Yes, Sally, it did, but that is not for publication.”

“Of course not, boss. He seems to be a nice young man. I am happy for you.”

“Thank you, Sally, that will be all for today.”

“I’ll make the calls. You’ll have everything he needs by Monday.” Sally opened the door and stepped out.

He was giddy as a child on Christmas morn. He needed to talk. He wanted to strut and crow. He could hardly wait until Monday. In the meantime, he had one more thing to do. He dialed a number he knew by heart.

“Reed, I need an invitation sent to a sub. He is mine, so hands off!” Donald rattled off the address and hung up with a smile. Reed will get the ball rolling. He would gradually coax him into his life. It would be difficult. Donald K. Drummond was not a patient man. Picturing his boy with his pouty mouth and pink tongue on his knees in the shower, giving him the best blowjob of his life would give him all the patience he needed.

Donald was so busy planning his seduction, he didn’t hear Sally’s buzz to tell him Mavis was in the outer office.

“Donald, we don’t have enough time for you to let me cool my heels with Sally,” Mavis said, almost shouting to get his attention.

“I’m sorry, Mavis. What did you say?”

“Brian may be in jeopardy,” Mavis said, her voice high with anxiety and agitation.

Mavis now had his full attention. “Tell me,” he said. Unlike knights on white chargers, Donald Drummond preferred to have the facts readily available before battle. Intelligence was the key to victory.

“I began to track down a number of Drummond employees who left without giving any notice or with so little notice there might as well have been none. Quite a few were minority employees or members of the gay and lesbian community.”

“That is not unusual, Mavis. We hire from the community. It is a community of small minority enclaves.”

“Donald,” Mavis almost screamed, “please let me continue.

That young man’s situation may be dire. You better hope they don’t know where he lives.”

“Quickly then Mavis, cut to the chase,” he stated.

“They were also very reluctant to speak to anyone from Drummond or about Zeke Robbins and his ‘crew.’ Quite a large number of our former, valued employees cursed or hung up, the minute I mentioned the Drummond name. One employee agreed to speak to me. She said she was leaving town and Robbins couldn’t follow her to California. I asked her what she meant.”

Mavis began to pace about the room.

“She told a rather disturbing s********e of our minority employees have Rabbis, you know. Someone in management, who has noticed their work, watches their ass and points out the potential pitfalls, a mentor. If the employee had a mentor, nothing of note ever happened to them. Robbins and his ilk were as polite as polite can be. However, if the employee was just plain folk, Robbins and his cohorts abused them at will.”

Donald’s pencil was tapping a steady rhythm on his desk pad.

He said, “I assume Blake was about to become Brian’s Rabbi if Mueller had not interfered.”

“I realized that after I spoke to John. He didn’t sign that transfer request. He would have demanded to see Brian and try to talk him out of quitting. Mueller must have forged his name.

Blake said that he came down one day and Mueller told him the boy left.”

Donald nodded. “The rest of it…Mavis.”

“If an employee shut up, put up with the harassment, like schoolyard bullies, they moved on to the next victim. However, if the ‘peon’ threatened to come to Human Resources, go to their supervisor, or otherwise attempt to stop them, there were accidents that escalated in severity.”

“What!” Donald shouted, breaking the pencil he held in half.

“Yes, accidents,” she said. “Most of the victims left. Low level employees fly under the radar at most businesses and if cafeteria employees leave their job, you generally believe they had another offer that would put them on a career path, so no one would look very hard to see why they resigned. When I began investigating, I noticed an abnormal number of those types of resignations from the mailroom. Granted, the mailroom is not a great place to work and under Zeke Robbins, it must have been hellish. However, most employees don’t leave a job after only three months. They try to stick it out for at least a year so they can collect unemployment, besides which leaving a job after only a few months looks bad on a job application.”

Mavis paced furiously back and forth in front of Donald’s desk. She did not look like a wasp now. She was channeling a lioness protecting her cubs.

“Furthermore, any low level employee subject to harassment can file federal charges against the company and a civil suit against the person who harassed them out of their job. None of these employees did. The woman I spoke to said they were afraid of Zeke Robbins. She says he runs with ‘unexpected elements’ in Clinton who are vicious and very, very dangerous. She said she was ‘slapped around’ and one of the people threatened her face with a knife. She called me, after she recovered and withdrew the charges, and then resigned. I told you then that Robbins was a walking lawsuit waiting to happen, do you remember? I’ll do some digging, but, Don,” Mavis continued in a serious tone, “even if the boy doesn’t press charges, he will be in danger. He cost Robbins his job and took Iris Mueller down with him. That damn church has a gun club.”

“f**k. Mavis, please go back to HR and research this as thoroughly as you can. Hire an investigator if you need one. There is no budget here. Spend whatever you need to get information, right now. I also want a list of every former Drummond employee you can find that was harassed or accosted by Robbins and company. I intend to call them personally and offer compensation as an incentive for testimony. If he is already taken down, it will be easier to convince them to provide testimony.”

Donald looked up and saw Sally standing slack-jawed by the credenza. She had come in to close the door and stayed to listen.

“Sally, get Reed on the phone. Tell him to meet me in Clinton with Jim and a few bouncers, at the address I gave him earlier, and do not take no for an answer. A life may be at stake.” Please, God, not again. Do not take him from me. Knife work…serrated blade, knife work. He hesitated for only a second. “Sally, also call the Sixth Precinct in New York City. Speak to Detective Sergeant O’Malley and tell him what Mavis just told me. Connect him to her if you have to do so. Tell O’Malley to coordinate with Lieutenant Thomas Martino of Trenton PD.” If I wind up looking foolish and scared, so be it. I am not taking chances with this boy!