The next couple of days were some of the best of Jean’s life.
The money she stole from the stranger had been exactly forty thousand dollars.
Jean and Jeff lived quite a bit of a happy life since that fateful day.
Jean did not need to have sex for money, and Jeff also did not need to shoplift.
They finally got to change their old, washed-out couch.
They finally went out like a couple and shopped.
They ate outside on some days, and Jeff was able to flip some of the money by buying drugs and reselling them.
Fortunately for Jean, she never ran into the beautiful stranger from that day, even though she found herself unable to stop thinking about him.
Jean spent most of her time indoors with Jeff, and besides eating and bathing, the only other thing they did was have sex.
Lots of sex.
Feeling bad, Jean had confessed to Jeff that to get that money, she had needed to sleep with the guy.
She told him that he was extremely handsome and that the sex had been good.
Jeff had waved her off that it did not matter.
She had sex with guys all the time, but it just wasn’t the same.
Eventually Jean gave up trying to get Jeff to understand that the stranger had provoked something unnatural in her, and it was why sex with Jeff wasn’t so enjoyable anymore.
She hated it, hated herself, but she could not talk to Jeff; he would not listen.
In the meantime, Jean tried her best to keep any thought of the stranger deep down, but now and then, he’d slip into her mind, catching her unawares, and she would be forced to replay the events of that night.
She’d feel every single thing she had felt that night, and her skin would tingle with an insatiable desire, and she would grow hot all over.
It was maddening.
Jean’s luck changed for the better when one day she got an email from one of the biggest companies in New York.
The letter was addressed to her, Jean White, and apparently, it had been written by the CEO himself, a… Michael Marquez.
Jeff had not been home when Jean received the mail, so she took her time and read the thing off her phone.
The letter started with a warm greeting, addressing Jean by her full name.
The letter said that the CEO of Apex Designs and Automobiles himself, Michael Marquez, had written the letter.
He said that he was good friends with Jean’s father and that they had gone to high school together.
He further stated in the mail that he had been going through a school album when he saw a photo and decided to reach out.
He said that he was heartbroken to find that his friend had been dead for a while and he had no idea.
He was devastated but was relieved to find that he had a daughter.
Mr.
Michael Marquez went on to say that he owed it to her father to take her under his wing and help her secure a position in his company.
He highlighted that he was aware of her educational status and was willing to assist her in finishing college and whatever she may need.
Mr.
Michael asked that Jean come see him at his office in two days, at the headquarters here in New York, so they could talk better.
Jean had just finished reading the letter, tears spilling from her eyes, when Jeff walked in.
Upon noticing the tears running down her face, he paused.
“The hell is wrong with you now?” He asked, and she could tell he was angry.
Probably a transaction did not go well.
Silently, she stretched the phone over to him, and Jeff’s eyes scanned the letter, and before he even finished, he had dropped the phone and had swept Jean into another princess-type carry, dropping kisses on her cheek and nose and forehead.
“You’re wonderful.
My ray of sunlight, I love you so much.” He said, and kissed her deeply.
* * * * * It was a Wednesday when Jean decided to go see Mr.
Michael Marquez at his office, just like he had requested.
Jean had asked Jeff to drive her in his car, but he had refused, saying he had things he needed to do and that she should book a ride.
Jean had done just that, chiding herself with the fact that once she’d gotten the help she needed from Mr.
Marquez, she would definitely be able to afford her own car.
The thought was pleasing.
Jean arrived at the office about fifteen minutes early and stood in front of the gigantic headquarters of Apex Designs and Automobiles.
The massive building cast a huge shadow across the street, protecting a particular section from the sun.
Jean cleared her throat and straightened her skirt before walking inside.
Of the money she had stolen, she had literally had to beg before Jeff agreed to give her some money to get clothes.
He had given her an amount that was nowhere near enough, so she had only managed to buy two items, one of which was the power suit she wore today.
A black fitted suit with a skirt that stopped just above her knees.
Reasonably tight and not revealing at all.
She wanted to look like somebody who deserved Mr.
Marquez’s help and compassion.
The lobby of the building was enormous, and Jean could see people sitting, walking around, talking to staff, making calls, and all sorts of things.
They were all dressed corporately and oozed money.
Jean felt very much out of place, and carefully she walked over to the counter where a line of receptionists stood.
“How can I help you, ma’am?” A young blonde lady asked her with a smile.
“I… uh… I’m here for Mr.
Marquez.” She replied, feeling unreasonably nervous.
“Do you have an appointment?” The receptionist asked kindly.
Jean’s brows drew together in confusion as she considered the receptionist’s words.
“Uhm… yes, I think.
He asked to meet him today.” Recognition dawned on the receptionist as she smiled again.
“You’re the Jean White.” Jean relaxed visibly at that.
“You may go on up; his office is on the top floor.
The elevator is right that way, ma’am.” The receptionist said, pointing towards a bend to her right.
Jean thanked her and proceeded to the elevator, where it was only she in it till the elevator rang and she stepped out into a long, spacious hallway with various artworks and paintings lining its white walls.
There was a set of double doors at the end of the hallway, and in front of that, to the left, was a big table with a computer on it, a fax machine, and a photocopier, but there was nobody seated there.
Gingerly Jean made her way to the set of double doors.
She stood there for a while, wondering if she should knock or open the doors.
She was about to knock when the doors opened, and a woman stepped outside.
The lady who stepped out was older than Jean, and shorter too.
She had dark, curly hair, and unlike Jean, the length of her skirt was scandalous.
The top button of her suit was undone, and her hair looked disheveled.
It made Jean wonder exactly what had happened inside the office.
“Go in, he’s waiting for you.” The lady said without looking at her, as she took her seat at the desk.
His secretary.
Jean thought before opening the doors once more and stepping inside to meet her worst nightmare.