A year later and Daphne arrived at Leo's again, this time through the front door, accompanied by an older couple, a gentleman and a woman. Terri welcomed her old friend and Daphne introduced everyone.
Daphne's guests were Sam and Nancy Flynn. Sam Flynn was the CEO of a company that Daphne had applied to work for, but the queasy bureaucrats at Human Resources spiked her application because of some dirty, vicious rumors about her past that had suddenly surfaced and spread like wildfire throughout the company over the local net. Worse, since the rumors had a tiny grain of half-truth at their core, she could not honestly flatly deny them. Sure, a few of the rumors seemed to be gross distortions of actual events, the rest were undeniably false. Her only honest responses all started with "That's not exactly true..." or "Let me explain..."– which, when repeated over and over and over, sure made her look like she was just trying to spin her sordid past into something less disreputable. H.R. came to the 'where there's smoke...' conclusion.
She decided to bypass H.R. and contact the company's CEO – Mr. Flynn – to whom she appealed directly. He'd seen the emails and read the rumors about her, and while he couldn't quite put his finger on it, something seemed... well, odd. Impressed by her determination, he accepted her call and agreed to a personal meeting. Meeting the center of the maelstrom piqued his interest as well and would be icing on the cake. That was three days ago.
The meeting was two days ago. Sam wasn't exactly sure what to expect and was relieved when his office door opened and a conservatively dressed young woman entered. She wore a dark gray business suit. The skirt's hem was just below the knee. A snow white blouse and a very thin red tie (a ribbon?) tied in a bow at her neck.
He was struck immediately by her beauty which was enhanced by her smile. He could read nervousness in her eyes, which, under the circumstances was perfectly understandable. Interviews are difficult enough, but this particular one had thorny issues associated with it. He offered her a seat and a glass of water. She accepted both, and they proceeded to go over her resume. She was obviously well qualified. The first problem was the two-year hiatus between graduating and the day's meeting.
"You know what the economy's been like" she started. "People simply aren't valued anymore. You couldn't get hired with a Bachelor's because they could get a Master's for the same wage, and Masters weren't hired because PhDs were so cheap. Everywhere I turned the investment I made in my education only seemed to qualify me for grunt work for peanuts. It wasn't fair." Daphne paused and the CEO nodded, acknowledging his agreement of her assessment of the situation. "So I decided to wait the storm out; these things cycle. And now that the clouds are starting to break, I'm throwing my hat back in the ring."
He looked at her inquisitively, "You waited for two years? Without a job? How did you manage that? How did you live? What about your student loans?"
"First, I don't have any student loans – I worked my way through school. Second, I've got investments and enough money that I don't have to work if I don't want to."
"If you don't have to work, what are you doing here?"
She leaned forward. "Trying to not go crazy, to tell the truth. Sitting at home watching the grass grow is really boring. I guess just hanging-out in a perpetual 'Spring-Break' vacation isn't in my genes. I've got to do something... But I can afford to be a little selective..."
Sam leaned back in his chair, quietly examining the interviewee. "Selective?"
"I think you know what I mean. It's a free market. You're being selective in choosing someone to work for you, and I'm being selective too; I want a real job. Sure, I don't have much experience, so I'll take a starting position, of course – but that doesn't mean that I have to accept the first offer and agree to do mindless grunt work for slave's wages either! Honestly, the only reason we're talking right now is because the position here was the first one I've seen for a long time that looked interesting at a company that looked interesting. And I'm willing to fight to get it!"
All during the meeting he couldn't reconcile the brazen loose-cannon nymphomaniac of the libelous emails with the composed, articulate, and thoughtful professional seated across his desk. In fact, he was so impressed with her demeanor that he was tempted to hire her on the spot, rumors be damned, but she balked, explaining that he should fully understand the nature of the 'shit that would hit the fan' first.
"Mr. Flynn ... sir, we both know what's being said about me and while it's not technically, factually true, I do have a roughly similar skeleton in my closet. Some might say it's worse than the emails...
"When I was in college I had a job where I allowed certain acts to be performed on me. It's difficult for me to talk about this, not because I am ashamed – I am not – but because of stupid Political Correctness censorship and even sillier puritanical Sexual Harassment rules that conspire to forbid frank talk, particularly between you, a powerful man, and me, the dainty daffodil that you are supposedly inclined to take advantage of. We both know better than this, but those are the idiotic rules. But you and I... we... must have a frank discussion because before you hire me you need to know about a certain episode in my life. It's already been used against me once and I'm sure it will be again.
"I have seen and done more than you can probably imagine! There is absolutely nothing you could possibly say or do will make me wilt like a sequestered schoolgirl. You need to feel free to ask me pointed questions and I need to be free to give you direct answers. If it's OK with you, I want to forget about all that nonsense and speak freely!"
Thank God! Finally, a woman I can actually talk to! I hate walking on egg-shells whenever I'm near female staff!
Flynn: "Sounds good, so let me break the rules first and say that you are a stunningly good-looking woman! I always enjoyed saying that and I never get to anymore."
Daphne smiled sweetly, her face lit up and Flynn instantly wished he was twenty... no... thirty years younger. "Why, thank you, Mr. Flynn. You're going to make me blush!"
She sure knows how to turn on the charm! "Touché"
"How stunningly good-looking?" she asked Sam, looking at him intently. "Am I sexually attractive to you? Would you like to see me naked?"
He gulped. "Oh, NO!"
Daphne laughed back. "Sir, forgive me, but you are such a liar! The only men that don't like to look at naked women are dead or gay!" She paused. He nodded. "OK, let's try that again, would you like to see me naked?"
"OK... yes, I would – but please keep your clothes on!"
"I wasn't offering to strip for you; I was just asking a question." She grinned at her would-be future Boss mischievously. He grinned back, shaking an index finger at her.
"OK, let's get started..." Daphne explained what happened – what she did and what others did to her – at Leo's place. She concentrated on the Friday evening sessions, convinced that no-one would understand the rest. Even so, Sam was initially taken aback by the acts Daphne described and wondered whether the truth was worse than the fiction. Why would such an attractive girl publicly debase herself like that?
It was as if Daphne read could his mind. "I've seen that look before" she sighed. "You guys all think you're King Stud when you 'dip your wick' into more of us 'sperm banks' than your drunken buddies at the Frat party, but, in an age when women are supposed to be equal to men, we're sluts or whores (or worse) if we want to experience our own sexual thrills." Daphne turned serious and looked Sam in the eye. "Could you please tell me to my face a good reason why that is?"
Sam was face-to-face with a flesh-and-blood woman who represented an academic dilemma he'd thought about from time to time for years. He believed in gender equality, but realized that, moments before, he'd judged her by a double standard. He looked visibly uncomfortable.
Daphne softened the tone of her voice and smiled as she continued, "Ever since adolescence I've had fantasies. You know. Sexual fantasies. And the most powerful, most exciting ones were also the ones that were the scariest, the most dangerous, the least likely I'd ever experience. Sir, the first time I ever went to Leo's I got to live my fantasies. The experience was more than I'd dreamed of in every respect, so I went back for more." The interviewee was shaking and mostly breathing through her parted lips. She lazily closed her eyes. "And more."
Sam recognized the Adrenaline shakes. "Daphne?"
She snapped back to the present. "Sorry," she panted. A mixture of embarrassed apology and bliss painted on her wryly smiling face. "I was just remembering some good times..."
He imagined her having a 'good time' and gulped down some water.
She paused, then her face suddenly brightened. "Sir, can you take a vacation day this Friday? Could you bail out of here early, say, just after lunch?"
"I suppose I could, but why should I?"
"Because you have to meet Leo face-to-face. We just spent about an hour talking and we could have practically have flown there by now. You should visit the place, meet the people, and see and feel what happens there for yourself. You could leave around ten and still be back home by midnight – one at the latest. Maybe then you'll understand how special Leo's place really is. Call it a fact-finding mission. I'll go with you just to answer questions and to grease some skids – they don't talk to strangers. I mean it. You could go there with a squad of FBI agents and they still wouldn't admit that I'd ever been there."
Mr. Flynn thought for a moment. "That's an interesting idea... I'd like to... no... I can't go anywhere with you. Not alone. Especially not with the rumors."
Daphne had an "Oh, God, Of COURSE!" expression on her face. But...
"How accepting do you think Mrs. Flynn would be? You can go with her, I'll take a separate flight, and we can meet over there."
###
Nancy Flynn jealously sat at the table between her husband and Daphne, running interference, protecting him from the cheap, gold-digging floozie. Daphne had chosen a table a couple rows away from the action; close enough to see and participate, but not too close to bother anyone else if they talked. It was thirty minutes before show-time and the place was mostly empty, but starting to fill.
Leo, who had noticed Daphne earlier, came over. "Daphne! Sweetheart! Are you ready?"
"Ready for what?"
"You said you were coming, so I made space in the lineup for you!"
"Leo," Daphne said, annoyed, but with a playful tone, "when I called I told you I was coming with guests!"
Leo looked bewildered. "Yes. So what? That never mattered before..."
She flashed an embarrassed glance towards Mr. and Mrs. Flynn. "Well.. I'll have to take a rain check. I'm slumming tonight." After the introductions, "Look, I know it's almost show-time but would you please talk to Mr. Flynn about your business and what I did here. For the next few minutes could you please answer any questions he has about me? No secrets – OK?"
Leo looked skeptical: "Daphne, this is not a good idea..."
Daphne got up and motioned Leo aside. "Please? This is important!" She explained briefly who Mr. Flynn was and why she'd brought him here.
Leo sighed. "OK, I'll do it for you if you really want it. But under protest."
"Thanks, Leo!" Her face beamed sunshine as she kissed him on the cheek, then she returned to the table and sat down.
"Sam, I want to tell you something about Leo. He never lies. He never even shades the truth. He will refuse to answer a question rather than lie or deliberately give a false impression. I have never met a more honest man. What's more he keeps secrets – all of our secrets. All of my secrets. He's a black hole; secrets go in and never come out. Sam, he holds the keys to my closet of skeletons. He has agreed, just this once, to open the door and to answer candidly. Ask him whatever you want and enter my closet if you dare."
"Mrs. Flynn, let's go talk girl talk..."
The women moved to another table.
"Mrs Flynn... Sam has probably told you that I applied for a job and was shot down because of vicious rumors. They have grains of truth, but those tiny grains have been so warped and distorted that they basically render the stories false. And they're completely out of context in any case. Your husband wants to hire me despite the rumors but I won't let him until he gets the truth and the context he's going to need to defend himself – and the company – if he hires me and I'm attacked again. Ma'am, that's why we're here. He got some of it from me the other day. He'll get a lot more from Leo. I'm hoping he'll get the rest from experiencing this place."
The scowl on the older woman's face was unrelenting.
"OK, I get that you don't like me and given the crazy stories I'm not surprised. I hope that your experience here will temper them. Before the show starts, let me say that whatever you see happen here tonight, I've done more. I've done things that I'm certain you can't even begin to imagine, things that would irrevocably damn me forever in your eyes if you only knew. And you know what's really crazy? I love this place; I keep coming back for more." Daphne flashed a smile. Her eyes already beamed overflowing joy.
We're in a sleazy sex club and this gutter tramp loves the place. I'm not surprised, Nancy thought. "So, what's between you and Sam?"
Daphne's jaw dropped and she looked at the woman incredulously. She leaned close and lowered her voice so nobody else would hear: "Are you nuts? That's your husband! There is nothing 'going on' between me and him!"
"You invited him to come here with you, alone..."
Daphne visibly wilted and then nodded: "That's right and I wish I could take that one back. I just wanted him to do exactly what he's doing right now and I was so eager to get the ball rolling that I got a little carried away and didn't think the details through, especially the 'we'd be alone together' part. That was unintentional, a mistake, and I'm sorry for that. For what it's worth, my plan was to get him out of here just after 10 and back home to you around midnight or so, depending on the plane schedules. But when it comes to your husband and me, there is no 'us.' OK?"
The older woman seemed to soften a bit, and Daphne continued: "It's good that he's honest with you, so you must already know that when he shot-down my half-baked idea, I proposed that you come here with him – and I'm genuinely glad you're here. This is a better plan anyway. I can't talk to him like you can; you're his wife; you've been with him for years and are closer to him than I could ever be. I need you because you know how he thinks and he might understand this better if you can explain it to him. You know that guys don't really understand what it's like being a woman and to be really, really exposed. They think they're exposed if their fly is open... or that we're exposed if a button pops open and they can see a little more cleavage or lace than usual when they peek down our blouses. They're comical that way. But you and me, we know better, don't we? He needs to understand all of this if he is as serious about hiring me as he says he is. You've got to help him understand... at least as well as a guy possibly can... his career and reputation may depend on it. Speaking of guys, let's get back."
OK, maybe she's not a gold-digger and maybe she's not after Sam. But she's still a foul-mouthed, promiscuous bimbo.