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Who the hell drinks beer with Skittles?
As she grabbed the handle on the door, the woman had spoken again. "You're not the first assistant he's seduced. He hires you for your looks, not that yours are all that special, fucks you for a few months, then fires you when he tires of you."
Dropping the lacy undergarments on the counter, reminding Sarah of how Will had tantalizingly taken them off of her not that long ago, Mrs. Carlson continued, "I'm sure he never mentioned his wife in the suburbs," flashing a vindictive look as Sarah stiffened at the truth of her words.
"His office staff are too scared of him to tell you the truth. They'd rather have you be the sacrifice that gets played for a fool than lose their job over trying to be nice. As long as he is distracted by a piece of ass, he's easier to deal with and their jobs are slightly more secure."
"I've done you a favor tonight, but don't fool yourself that you are anything special. You were just an available cunt who easily fell prey to the fantasy of being seduced by the millionaire CEO."
As she spat out her final words, "You were nothing to him." Sarah had wrenched the door open and walked out attempting to hold her head high as she did. It wasn't until she was outside trying to hail a cab while barefoot in oversized men's clothing that she began to shake with the shock of what had just occurred. She had called in sick the next day and had given her resignation the day after that, effective immediately. A week later her personal items had arrived at her apartment with a note from him -- Thanks for the good fucks, maybe we can do it again sometime. No mention of what had happened. No mention of how he had used her that last time. No mention of his wife.
Sarah had ripped his note to shreds and started the process of ensuring she never ever had to lay eyes on him again.
And now his fucking wife was standing across from her wanting to order a drink.
Pretend it never happened, Sarah told herself as she politely said "What can I get you, ma'am?"
"Don't play games with me you little cunt," Mrs. Carlson snapped at her. "You know who I am, don't pretend otherwise. I only came over here for the pleasure of having to make you serve me, seeing how you've fallen so low. I'll take a Chardonnay. Too bad I can't make you serve me on your hands and knees since that's a position you apparently enjoy."
Sarah shakily reached for the wine bottle unsure of what else to do. As she poured, Mrs. Carlson continued.
"And don't expect to talk to him tonight. He knows better than to have to deal with pathetic cast-offs trying to get back into his pants to get at his fortune."
"But that was never..." Sarah started before catching herself. She couldn't give this woman the satisfaction of arguing with her.
But just then she heard a voice from the end of the bar call out, "Oh, give her a break Gina," and one of the young well-dressed men approach them.
"James, I wasn't expecting you to be here." Mrs. Carlson sputtered out.
"Not many people were, surprise visits from controlling shareholders are never expected, are they?" James said with some amusement. "But I meant what I said. Leave the poor girl alone. We both know what Will is like, you don't need to take out your pent up anger about him being a complete ass on his victims."
"How dare you say such things about my husband," Mrs. Carlson indignantly replied.
"Sometimes we have to face reality, and reckoning days are never easy." James responded with a tone of pity. "So why don't you just take your wine and leave," here he paused and glanced at Sarah who whispered her name, "Sarah, to do her job. I'd rather like a strong pour of scotch and you are hogging up the line."
Mrs. Carlson gave him a cold look, but picked up her glass and walked away.
Sarah let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding and turned to look at James.
"Thank you," she said, giving him a genuine smile, one of the first she'd had in months.