Betrayed Ch. 06

The rest of the morning went quickly. I was followingCNN closely. TheOPECministers were meeting in Vienna. I was anticipating them making a move on oil production. I wasn't sure which way it would go, but I had committed the company to a hedge position in a dangerous way. There had been rumors circulating since the previous Thursday of a major new offensive by U.S. forces in the Sunni Triangle When I heard that, my instincts had gone into overdrive. I called our people on the floor of theMerc and issued abuyorder for all the Number Two Arabian Crude contracts they could get their hands on. My job and reputation rested on the accuracy of my instincts.

At eleven o'clock Monday morning, there was word an errant U.S. air strike had partially demolished the Imam Ali Shrine in Najaf – the holiest Shi'ite site in Iraq. Within the hour, there was word out of Vienna;OPEC would be reducing worldwide production by a combined three million barrels a day. The price of Arabian Crude futures took off for Mars – and we were in the driver's seat! By one o'clock, my instincts had netted the firm and its clients one hundred twenty-five million dollars and the amount was still rising. All in a day's work. I made a note that it might be a good idea to invest part of my commission in a hybrid car - and gave a little chuckle for all those SUV owners who would soon be taking theCTAorMetrato work.

Angie stuck her head in the door.

"Ready?" she inquired.

"For...?" I questioned, puzzled.

"Lunch!" she gushed. I've been following your latest exploits; we all have. The word is, Rob Nelson and Jim Grant are about to nominate you for Sainthood. I'm taking you to lunch before they usurp my prerogative. I may not get another chance before you leave to start your own firm."

Thiswas news. My commission on this trade would be enough to put me over the top in my quest to obtain my own trading seat on theMerc.Getting a seat was very much like joining a country club; you had to be 'sponsored' by existing members. If Rob and Jim were willing to give me their endorsement.... Robert Nelson was our Chairman and Chief Executive Officer. James Grant was President and Chief Operating Officer. They had started from much the same position I was in now – working for someone else, then acquiring their own seats. The long hours of empire-building had taken its toll on both their personal lives. Jim was divorced. Rob had never married. The company was their wife, Mistress, and taskmaster. They had reached the pinnacle of success, yet remainedsalarymen to the core.

"Not to worry," I chirped brightly, "if I leave, I will drag you out the door with me – kicking and screaming, if I have to."

The comelyLatina approached me, smiling coyly. She stood before me, bent over at the waist, placing her face right in front of mine. She gazed into my eyes, softly stroking my cheek with one hand

"I like kicking and screaming," she cooed, "but you won't have to drag me anywhere – unless you are into that sort of thing."

She pulled me from my chair and slipped her arm through mine. In her heels, she was actually taller than me.

"Are you sure you can afford this?" I asked.

"Absolutely!" she breezed. "The sky's the limit – whatever your expense account allows."

"Gee, thanks." I responded dryly.

"Shut up and call a cab," she growled with mock menace.

As Yogi Berra said, it seemed likeDéjà vuall over again. Angie suggested we tryMorton's new downtown location on Wacker Drive. The 'in' joke was, the "T" in the neon marquee was already burnt out. At night, everyone in the Loop was having a good laugh at the illuminated result. My companion raised one eyebrow inquiringly when I seconded her order for a Cobb salad.

"I've been eating," I reiterated. "I just haven't been eatingright. I need more roughage in my diet."

"Roughage, huh?" Angie smirked. I'll make a note of that."

With only a modest amount of 'persuasion' by the lovelyLatina, I ordered a celebratory bottle of champagne; nothing ostentatious, just a niceMőet Brut. If Angie was concerned I ate less salad than she did, she didn't comment. We left nothing of the bubbly to waste – and were more than a little wasted ourselves. I remarked I was going to be a wreck when I got back to my desk.

"Not to worry," Angie reassured me. "I left word upstairs with Sheila you would be 'indisposed' the rest of the afternoon. Debbie is subbing for me. No one is gonna give us flack after this morning. We earned it."

"What you mean 'we', Paleface?" I mocked.

"Imean," she continued, "you did the deal andI, as Morale and Recreation Officer, have kept your head screwed on straight and your mind in the game for the past week."

"Oh, youdid, did you?" I scolded. "Well, thank you very much for your dedication. And justhow did you save me from myself?"

Angie just smiled coyly, and inhaled – deeply. Her chest expanded amazingly, like two big, round jiggly balloons that seemingly would burst at any moment, yet just kept expanding. I stared in rapt, silent fascination.

"Like that," she responded quietly.

Under the table, her hand was in my lap, stroking the hard-on that had popped above the waistband of my satin panties. I was scared to death she was about to discover the corset, garters, stocking tops, or all three.

"That IS a... lovely... suit," I stumbled absent-mindedly. "You wear it... all your outfits... so...well."

"You really think so?" she murmured. "Thank you, Sweetie! You don't mind if I call you that here, just the two of us, do you? I mean, you are such an attractive man.... No, that's not right. You are so young-looking, slender, smooth, fine-featured – like a reallypretty boy..."

Her hand snaked its way from my crotch to my abdomen before I could do anything to stop her. Her smile lit up the room.

"...who likes to dress up like a reallypretty girl. Now, what were we saying about 'drag' a little while ago? Pretty girls like you always have a pretty name. What's yours?"

I wanted the earth to open up and swallow meright then. I closed my eyes.

"Lisa," I whispered.

"Lisa!" she exclaimed. "That isso you. I am very pleased to meet you, Lisa. I get along well with the other girls at work, but they are all so...white bread – know what I mean? You, on the other hand, are my kind of girlfriend. I can already tell you are hip, daring, not afraid to flaunt what you've got, and know what to do with it when the time comes. I'll bet it kills you to have to dress like this for work, doesn't it? What you really want is to cut loose and dress the way you really feel, don't you? With those blue eyes and that fair complexion, I'm guessing you are a really fabulousblonde – aren't you?"

I nodded silently. How could she possibly know all of that? Thank goodness the lunch rush was largely over. If anyone had been sitting at a surrounding table....

"Angie, I'm seeing someone," I murmured.

Her eyes sparkled like black diamonds.

"That's right, Sweetie; you are seeingme – and I couldn't possibly be more thrilled!This isway cool, mija. I justhaveto get the full effect.Check, please!"