sexy fireman

J&H Monday Morning

"Mr. Jamison, you asked to see me?" she tried to make her voice sound confident, but it came out in a whisper.

"Raymond, come in," Jamison rasped. He sat behind an enormous mahogany desk, which was bare, with the exception of a few neatly folded newspapers and two lap tops. He was holding the Financial Times, the pink paper that had fascinated Cara as a child.

Jamison continued to read the Times for a few moments while Cara stood uncomfortably. "Why don't I know who you are?" he said, without looking up from the newspaper. Cara detected a slight Irish brogue.

"I've only been here two years, sir. I'm still a junior associate, so I haven't had the pleasure of meeting you yet," Cara died inside. Did she really say "the pleasure of meeting you"?

Jamison looked up over his glasses at her, and grinned. His heft made him unattractive, but his smile tempered his unpleasant countenance.

"How did you come up with a three year return on investment for NCR Plastics? That piece of shit company should be torched." He growled.

"I, um, well," Cara stammered, trying to think back to her well-memorized presentation from Friday. She had committed it to memory but now she was too terrified to think.

"Management just came out on top of their negotiations with union members , which freed up capital to further invest in R&D. If NCR obtains the patent they're pursuing on the new polymers they'll be in the position to bring to market a viable competitor to the polyurethane produced by EVCO Plastics, and wreck their monopoly. Once they obtain approval and start production I think in three years they can run in the black."

"What if the patents rejected? Their R&D has always been years behind the competition," Jamison said self-satisfied. He crossed his arms over his vast chest and leaned back in his chair, which groaned under his weight. "NCR is dead in the water."

"it won't be," she stammered. Oh my God, she thought, I'm contradicting the owner of my company. I'm dead. "The patent is currently under review; and from what I've read the approval is days away."

"So you're saying I'm wrong," he smirked, enjoying watching her squirm.

"I'm sorry sir, but yes," she whispered.

Jamison grinned and spun one of his laptops to face her. The web headline read "NCR Plastics patent application approved through the US Patent and Trademark Office."

"Congratulations, Ms. Raymond."

"Yes!" she celebrated.

"Good work. Somehow you saw this coming. Unusual for a junior associate to have long term vision,"

"Thank you, Sir. I've been watching their work over the last two years and I believe their research capabilities are tremendous for a small company."

"So you're saying to leave our client's money with them,"

"Yes sir, I am," she said now confident.

The phone buzzed and Ruth's voice could be heard over the intercom, speaking in slow, careful French. Jamison responded awkwardly, his French halting and virtually unrecognizable because of his Irish accent. With Jamison distracted, Cara finally relaxed enough to glance around the office. Her eyes rested on an enormous oil painting which hung directly behind Jamison and his desk. It was a painting of a beautiful girl in riding gear, standing in front of a split rail fence, a huge Irish wolfhound seated next to her. The girls hand rested on the dog's head; both looked haughtily from the canvas.

"Oh let's just drop it for now, Ruth. I'm so sick of French I may cancel this trip," he growled. "Don't know why I bother," he mumbled to himself. "Every Frog speaks English." he seemed to have forgotten Cara was in the room.

She cleared her throat to remind him of her presence.

"oh yes, Redmond," he said, slightly flustered. Cara didn't bother correcting him; she rather enjoyed seeing a somewhat more human side.

"Whose associate team was it that you are on? Do they still do that team nonsense downstairs anyway?

"Yes, Mr. Jamison. My team leader is Jay - I mean Jason Smerling."

"Ah, Smerling," he smiled. "A good lad."

Cara smiled, happy for Jay. "I like working with Jason." she both meant it and wanted to appear a team player.

"I bet you do," Jamison smirked. The double entendre was not lost on Cara but she chose to ignore it. She saw his eyes roaming over her.

"Who is the young lady in the portrait?" she asked, hoping to change the direction the meeting was headed.

"That's my daughter, Erin. Takes after her old man, eh?" he cackled, but watched Cara for her reaction.

"She's lovely," Cara avoided the bait. And so familiar, Cara thought to herself.

Ruth buzzed again, this time using her perfect English, "Mr. Jamison, Mr. Cranston is on hold."

"Hm. Okay. Redmond, I thought after your presentation we should meet. I usually don't involve myself in our junior staff but you're a pleasant surprise." His smile was part leer.

"Thank you, Mr. Jamison," Cara said proudly. Jamison waved her away; she turned to leave.

"Oh and don't forget to give Ruth her shawl back. Next time you come to this floor, dress appropriately." Jamison turned back to his paper and Cara slunk out of the office.

When she got downstairs Cara rushed to Jay's office to share the good news, but he wasn't back yet. Knowing Jay he was out to an early liquid lunch. Even though he was still junior Jay was given the latitude of a senior associate.

Cara went back to her desk and took out her phone. She was too excited and had to share her meeting with Jay. She went into her old calls to retrieve his number, but the first number her eyes fell upon was Mark's. Who to call first?

She decided Jay could wait. She held her breath, tapped the number and hoped Mark would be on the other end.