Bad Girl Pt. 02 by BigMadStork,BigMadStork

Everyone stares at me to see if I run. Jane looks poised to sprint if necessary.

I know it was short notice, but I wrote a speech for this. It goes like this, “Oh.”

Yeah, not so good. I take small steps to the table, set down my coffee, notepad, and my pen. I always take notes. I try to sit there calm, knowing the two-timing bitch is there.

Mom grabs my hand, making me immediately look her in the eyes with contempt. She knows my hate for this woman. She can see how mad I am. Now mom is nervous. She shouldn’t be doing this.

Mom does all the talking, “Honey, calm down. You’re breathing too quickly, and your heart rate is off the charts. Nobody will hurt you. Nobody can hurt you here.”

I beg to differ, “Someone here already has hurt me. Being here now is hurting me. Try a different approach.”

Mom sighs.

Jane takes over, “The work you have done with our companies has been outstanding. Your leadership and personal touch have made a significant difference to all our companies. Costs are down across the board. When you went into hiding a while ago, mom worked with Sophia to find you. Her daughter was unconscious and then in a medical coma. She helped the people that were looking for you. She helped with that exceptional commercial. You, in turn, helped her understand what happened to her daughter at the FBI interview.

“This isn’t about what she did to you, how you feel about her, or what happened. That was long ago. I’m not going to discount that, but it’s in the past. Everyone has moved on. Mom and Sophia were forced to work together. They became friends. It was never mentioned around you … well, for obvious reasons.

“Anyways, mom was bragging about the incredible work you have done, and she explained some of the details. I don’t know if you knew, but Sophia also has a substantial holding company like we do. She immediately realized that our model would also work for her companies. She has a major problem. She doesn’t have you. She is like mom, Vickie is kind of like me, other than the ch… well, we’re different.

“Sophia wants to hire you as a consultant for big money, to do for her what you did for us last year. Because that should be easy for you to do, they also want to buy and sell from our companies at a volume discount. She needs you to work with them to find compatibilities between our companies. In the back of your head, plan for a possible merging where we share IT, engineering, and R&D between all our companies to get even better efficiencies.”

Sophia adds, “We would be co-owners of the R&D, engineering, and IT parts. I would like to add in accounting, shipping, and management overview.”

With a monotone voice, “Let me guess. You both know the perfect person on Sophia’s side to work with me. Right?” Nobody will look me in the eyes. “So, this has nothing to do with real work. You manufactured a reason to get us back together. That boat has sailed. The amount of pain and humiliation still causes me nightmares. Fine, you guys do what you want to do. Let me know how this works out.”

I get up even as mom tries to grab my hand. I leave the room, the building, and I walk out onto the streets. I walk over to Central Park, a few blocks away, sit on a bench, and cry. The pain and humiliation is back and fresh in my mind at seeing her. Why are they doing this to me? We’re done, over, there is no going back after what she did to me and what I saw her doing to those men.

+++++

Back in the conference room:

Mom says, “Well. That went better than I expected. Vickie. Do you see what you did to my son? I have some video I want you to see.”

Jane presses the button to lower the projection screen and turns off the lights. Mom uses her laptop to send the video to the overhead projector. For two hours, everyone watches the FBI interview between Agent Wilson and Bill. He describes with amazing details what happened to him, from the invitation to the humiliation, to him being sent home.

I heard Vickie sobbing, but as the screen went up and the lights came on, she’s a ship wreck.

Jane adds salt to the wounds, “Do you understand what you did to him now? Do you understand how much he loved you? Personally, I think it’s hopeless, and I’m not even sure you deserve a shot at him.”

Connie sits quietly, loving the way Jane is making Vickie sweat and feel the pain. Now we will learn what this girl is made of and if she is, indeed, worthy of my son’s love or not.

Sophia thinks as she sits, content to watch the proceedings. Connie and Jane are doing precisely what Sophia needs. My daughter is getting a full dose of the issue. She will be sour and moody for a while, but she needs to understand what she’s up against. That movie of the FBI interview was perfect. Bill talked with so much raw emotion that it had to eat her up inside. How does she get him back? Will she ask for help? Who will she ask? This is the stuff they should have on TV. Bah, nobody would believe it.

Vickie wants to run after Bill and cuddle with him like they used to do. She thinks that would make everything better. I have hurt him so badly, and I don’t know what to do. Do I want our moms conspiring to meddle with our lives? YES! They’re my only hope. Without this plan, they hatched up; he won’t talk to me.

Jane sits back lazily, thinking, “Bill will be hurting tonight, and I’m going to cuddle with him, and then let him have his way with me, and that will make him feel better. Hehe, I certainly don’t mind him fucking me either. Nobody fucks near as good as he does. He is The Beast; I mean The Best.

I’m sitting in the park, wondering what I should order for lunch. Pastrami or corned beef?

+++++

The following Monday, 9:00 am. There is a knock at my door.

This is odd; people know to just knock once and then come in. Kim doesn’t have anything on my schedule.

I yell out, “Come in.”

The door slowly opens. Fuck me. It’s Vickie.

Meekly she tells me, “Your mom scheduled me in your office on Monday and my office on Friday. I’m here to start work.”

With a measured voice, trying not to sound like a jerk, “Have a seat.”

She moved quickly to the chair I pointed at and sat down. Her purse is close to her like I might grab it.

I start to say “Hi,” but she cuts me off.

She is near tears yet is angry as she goes off, “YES! I fucked up! I know! Your mother, my mother, Jane, they all told me how fucking stupid I was. I admit that I was. I was addicted to sex. I needed it yet got no satisfaction from it until you came along. For four months, I resisted going to NSA. Then I broke down and went once. With people like me, it broke me. The club feeds my addition. Like crack, I needed more and more.

“Getting you interested in that lifestyle would have kept me going. Eventually, even that would not have been enough. I knew many of the women that had money and points were mean and hated men. They would beat them, and the men took it because they wanted points. I knew any woman at work would want you. I was right; they loved the idea. They were going to, well, you know. I wanted it to be good for you. I wanted you to join me. I saw what I wanted, not the type of man you really were.

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