The EMT Ch. 04

It was at this point, as Suzanne remembered that Ian was on night duty this evening, that she also remembered the arrangements for the dinner engagement with Ian's boss. She had forgotten all about it in the excitement of the last couple of days. With a shock, she remembered the importance of the engagement for Ian's career, and she remembered the arrangements she had already made. She looked at the clock and realised that she would have to move quickly if she was to get everything done. It was nearly nine o-clock. She jumped out of bed, and stepped into the bathroom.

A little over 9 hours later, Suzanne was sitting at her dressing table with only her final preparations left to be done before the mysterious dinner engagement that could result in her husband joining the prestigious Executive Management Team at Ruler Electronics. Emma sat on the big bed behind her, playing with one of her dolls, already ready for bed. Suzanne had little left to do. She had been to the beauty parlour whilst Emma was at playschool, and her hair, nails and makeup were all expertly done. She had bathed carefully, so as not to disturb her makeup. All that remained was for her to retouch a couple of items and dress before the car arrived bringing the babysitter, and waiting to whisk Suzanne off to La Provence to meet Mr Graham Leicester.

Suzanne applied herself to the task, and remembered the events that had brought this evening's engagement. The strange e-mails she had received from HR at her husbands company had asked for her participation in her husband's 360-degree assessment at the end of his first year with the company. She was to meet Mr Leicester at the prestigious La Provence restaurant where he would ask her about her husband's general health and happiness at the company. The e-mails had also explained, confidentially, that her husband Ian was also a late candidate for promotion to the management team, bringing untold benefits. She knew that Ian was in competition with other candidates, including John, who she had been so close to giving herself to last night. She blushed as she remembered. All day long, she had been having flashbacks of her behaviour and the events of last evening. All day long, she had been only a moment away from becoming excited again, thinking about what had happened.

Again, she weighed her conflicting thoughts about the dinner engagement, and as she had when the invitation had first come, she determined to do everything in her power to win the position for Ian. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, and winked at herself. Suzanne knew she looked fabulous, and by the time she had dressed, she was confidant that she could have Mr Leicester eating out of her hand. She had no inkling that she had seriously underestimated the powerful Mr Graham Leicester.

Suzanne looked at the clock and saw it was 18:45. The car should be here in 15 minutes. She pulled her robe around her, and picked up Emma from the big bed. "Come on sunshine, it is time for you to go to bed." Emma, as ever the contented child, hugged her mother as she was carried through to her own room, and tucked into her bed with a couple of favourite toys. It was still light outside, so Suzanne pulled the heavy curtains across, leaving a small gap to shed some light into the room. She bent down and kissed Emma goodnight, then backed out of the room to return to her own room to dress. Suzanne pulled on a pair of thigh-high tan stockings (hold-ups), and smoothed them over the silky skin of her legs. Next, she slipped into a sexy black French thong panty, and pulled the sides high on her hips. The thong passed between her buttocks, and would leave no unsightly panty-line beneath the silky material of her dress. She turned in front of the mirror to admire the view and check that the underwear was properly and smoothly adjusted. Before putting on her dress, she slipped into, and buckled the high-heeled shoes she had chosen. They were black, and a very expensive indulgence from the January sale at her favourite shoe shop in Edinburgh's Royal Mile. She had always admired Jimmy Choo's styles, and these were perfect, with a feathery strap across the point where the toes meet the foot, and the slenderest ankle strap circling her dainty ankles from the raised heel, buckling discreetly at the side.

Finally, she slipped the dress from its hanger and over her head and shoulders, letting it gently cascade over her body as she shimmied to allow it to slip into place. This was her favourite cocktail dress, simple, black, backless (scooping almost to the dimples just above her ass cheeks), and with a perfectly respectable front that was cut just low enough to hint at the top of her cleavage. The dress was cowl-necked, with heavy folds of the very light and silky material draping from the shoulders and across the breasts. From beneath the breasts, the dress was plain and simple, and hugged her figure. With the cowl-neck drapes, it was perfectly decent without a bra (she couldn't wear one anyway as the back was so low), just as long as she didn't lean over too far. Suzanne knew from experience that leaning too far forward allowed the neck to fall away from her, allowing a view right down the front of the dress. As long as she was careful, this wouldn't be a problem.

Finally, she slipped on earrings and necklace, replaced her wedding and engagement rings, and slipped a gold bracelet over her hand where it lay on her wrist, emphasising her tan.

She made a last quick examination of her reflection in the full-length mirror and smiled at what she saw. The overall effect was classic good taste and beauty. She heard the car pull up outside as she picked up her small handbag – it would be all she'd need on this warm summer evening. She went carefully downstairs to open the door to the company's recommended babysitter.

Friday Evening

Suzanne felt really quite sophisticated as she entered the restaurant and gave her name to the Maitre d'. Ms Pyrford had immediately impressed her, the babysitter recommended by the company was bright, cheerful and respectfully professional, and Suzanne had no qualms about leaving her child in her hands. The car the company had sent had been more than comfortable, and the well-dressed chauffeur had been the perfect gentleman, opening the door for her and driving to the restaurant with a strictly professional diligence that had impressed Suzanne, although she had caught the admiring glance he'd given her as she slipped into the back seat for the short trip to the restaurant.

Now, as the respectful Maitre d' showed her through the restaurant, she was starting to realise that this was a lifestyle she could quickly get used to. La Provence was a highly respected eatery, and as she walked through its labyrinth she admired the décor and the well-dressed diners. She couldn't help noticing that she was being admired in return. Eventually, the Maitre d' brought her to a discreet table in a quiet corner of the restaurant, and she recognised Mr Leicester as he rose to greet her.

"Mrs James, how lovely you look." Suzanne blushed slightly at the complement, especially when Mr Leicester took her hand in his, and raised it to his lips for a very gallant, but old-fashioned, kiss on the back of her hand.

"Thank you Mr Leicester, please call me Suzanne. I always think of my mother-in-law when I hear Mrs James." Suzanne laughed.

"Then you must call me Graham," he smiled as he pulled out her chair for her. Suzanne sat with a demure "Thank you", and Graham returned to his seat. As he did, Suzanne looked around her. The table was round and very elegantly laid, with the place settings side-by-side rather than opposite each other. Both Graham and Suzanne were seated, he on her right, looking across the table and into the main body of the restaurant, their backs to the corner in which they were seated. The setting allowed them to speak quietly and confidentially, she realized, and to see all the other diners.

"Now, Suzanne, let me get you an aperitif. What will you have?" Suzanne noticed that, despite the busy restaurant, the Maitre d' had remained in attendance, and summoned over the wine waiter, who arrived promptly and waited for their order. Clearly Graham Leicester was a regular customer who they took pains to look after Suzanne realised. She ordered a gin and tonic, and was surprised to hear Graham order a diet coke for himself. She wondered if she had just failed the first test.

Graham quickly put her at her ease. "Please excuse me if I don't join you in a cocktail Suzanne, I enjoy wine so much with my dinner that I tend to overdo things if I drink cocktails as well, so I try to stick to soft drinks, at least until the food is served."

Suzanne turned towards him and returned his smile. For the first time, she noted his appearance. He was well dressed, casually, in expensive clothes. Dressed in slacks and a very smart silk shirt, with a blazer, and no tie, he was what Suzanne would call handsomely elegant. She could smell his cologne or after-shave, and recognised an expensive brand. She began to relax in his company, and thought to herself that she could have had a much less preferable dinner date.

As the drinks arrived, and menus were placed in front of them, they made small talk, and chatted amiably. Suzanne recognised that she was being studied as they chatted, but the examination was done so discreetly and elegantly, that she really didn't feel at all like she was being "interviewed".

With Graham's help and advice, they selected their food and ordered. Graham clearly knew the restaurant well, and was an excellent guide regarding their specialities. He took personal charge of choosing the wine to accompany their meal. Suzanne found herself warming to him, and whilst recognising his importance and power, and the importance of the evening for her and her husband, she was thoroughly enjoying herself by the time the first course arrived.

As they ate, Graham abruptly turned the conversation to the matter at hand. "Ian has made an excellent start at Ruler Electronics," he opened, "no doubt that is at least partly due to the presence at home of such a beautiful and charming wife."

Suzanne blushed slightly. "I'm happy that he has done well," she responded, "but I am sure that it is the result of his own talents, and the support the company has given him. He was delighted to get an offer from such a well-respected company, and I know he has worked extremely hard this last year."

"Well his efforts have been noted and recognised," said Graham. "You are aware that he is a candidate for the vacant position on the Executive Management Team I hope?"

Suzanne confirmed that she had been made aware, and that she was personally very gratified that Ian had made such a good early impression.

As they ate their way through the excellent starters, and the wine arrived and was decanted at the table, Graham continued to probe gently into Ian's happiness and state of mind. Suzanne was honest and open in her answers, explaining how happy they both were in Edinburgh, despite the remoteness from their family and friends in the south. Suzanne deftly handled some questions about Emma and future plans for expanding the family, again truthfully and openly. She found it easy to tell Graham that she and Ian had decided not to have any more children, at least for the time being.

As the opening course was cleared away, and the main courses arrived and were served, Suzanne was pleased with the way that she thought she was answering Graham's gently probing questions. Graham was attentive to her, regularly filling her wine glass or offering water as they chatted. In the candlelight from the table, his eyes sparkled with a gentleness, and he smiled so warmly, that Suzanne felt more like she was on a romantic date with a distinguished older man than at an important interview.

They were approaching the end of their main course when Graham turned to her and asked, "Do you have any questions you would like to ask me Suzanne? I have been bombarding you with impertinent and personal questions, and have hardly given you a chance to get a word in edgeways."

Suzanne thought carefully about her response. On the one hand, she didn't want to appear too crafty and manipulative; on the other, she wanted to know more about the selection process and how she could help win the promotion for her husband. Finally, she decided to stick with the policy of being open and honest.

"I'm very interested in the process of selection for the new role," she replied, "who are the eventual decision-makers, and what are the timescales? I know we would both love for Ian to be selected, but I recognise he is a relative newcomer to the company. Are there any major areas of concern over his ability to do the job? Is there anything we can do that would help the decision makers reaching their decision? Oh dear," she smiled, "you kindly offered me a chance to ask a question, and I ask a hundred of them at once. I am sorry."

Graham put down his knife and fork, and pushed his plate away from him. An attentive waiter quickly materialised to take their dishes away. When he had gone, Graham turned slightly towards Suzanne; she felt his knee push against hers, as he collected his thoughts.

"Basically, I am the decision maker," he replied. "The selection process for the shortlist involved the whole of the Board of Directors and the other members of the EMT, but the final decision regarding the candidates has been left to me. Any of the candidates could do the job, if not they wouldn't be on the shortlist," he went on. "And yes! Ian starts a little way behind the others because we know less about him, and about you." He paused to let this sink in.

Suzanne swallowed, and then sipped her wine. "What do you need to know about me?" she asked, looking directly into Graham's eyes, and turning on all of her charm.

Graham smiled at her. "I'll be as honest with you as you have been with me Suzanne. The EMT is a bit like an exclusive club. We work closely and intimately, with the utmost trust in one another. As senior representatives of the company, we work long and anti-social hours, working with staff all day long, and often entertaining customers or suppliers during the evenings. Young wives aren't always comfortable with the demands that such a life can make on them and their families. We need to know that you can cope with these pressures, and that you will welcome them. There is no point promoting your husband into a high-pressured and demanding job, if by doing so, he is likely to have that pressure amplified by distrust, demands and pressure at home. No executive can withstand the combined pressure of such a demanding job, and not getting the support he needs at home. That is what we need to know about you. The partners of the other candidates have proven themselves through a longer relationship with the company, but you are an unknown quantity to us, and before I make my final decision, I wanted to assess you for myself."

Suzanne listened patiently through this monologue, her pulse quickening throughout. Here was the crunch. Ian was a candidate for the position, on nearly equal footing with the other candidates, and recognised as being able to do the job. But she was what was potentially holding him back – it was concerns about her that might cost him the job. She knew that so far, the dinner had gone well. She could feel the interest that Graham had in her, and she had hardly stumbled in answering his questions, sticking as she had to her policy of honesty and openness. Now she had to convince him that she was as supportive as the other wives. The realisation that this was a crunch moment quickened her pulse even more.

"Thank you for your honesty," she told him. "Ian and I left our families and friends to come to Edinburgh for this opportunity." The emotion of the moment had caused her to speak more forcefully and directly than she intended. "We have never regretted that move over the last year. We are both absolutely committed to giving this opportunity our all, and making the most of it for our little family. I wish there was something I could do to demonstrate how important this is to us, and how supportive of Ian I really am."

Graham studied her carefully. The knowledge that she was the one who may stand between Ian and the promotion had brought raw emotion to the surface, and Suzanne was desperate to convince Graham that Ian had her full support. Her little outburst in response to his monologue had left her anxious and excited, and he could see how eager she was not to let her husband down, and how she had strained to keep her voice under control as she tried to convince him. Suzanne's eyes had filled with her emotions, and she was on the verge of tears from the stress and nervousness that she now felt.

As he studied her closely, she apologised for her little outburst and excused herself, to find the ladies room. Really, she needed a moment or two in private to regain her composure. Graham half rose as she lifted herself from the table to head to the bathroom, picking up her purse as she went. Just as she was about to head towards the ladies room, he beckoned her back, sitting back in his chair and gesturing that she should stop and listen to him. She couldn't believe what happened next.

Graham spoke quietly to her, forcing her to stoop to hear his words. "You can do something," he whispered to her, " when you come back from the ladies room, put your panties in my jacket pocket!"

Suzanne was astonished. She couldn't believe her ears. She looked at him aghast. Had she heard correctly? Her cheeks flushed, and the tears that had started to well in her eyes flooded up again. She thought her heart had stopped, she was so shocked. As a defence mechanism, she turned on her heel and rushed blindly towards the ladies room. Graham watched her go, his eyes noticing the delightful wiggle of her ass as she scampered across the restaurant in her high-heeled Jimmy Choo shoes.

In the bathroom, Suzanne found herself totally alone. She slammed the door to her cubicle in anger and surprise at this sudden turn of events, and sat down on the toilet cover without lifting it or her dress. She angrily pulled some paper from the roll and used it to dab her eyes. Did he really say what she thought he had said? Surely she misheard him. But she knew she had heard him perfectly well. She was totally confused; he had been a perfect gentleman all evening, and in the space of a minute it had all turned around. He had definitely made a most improper suggestion to her. How dare he?

Suzanne sat for several minutes wondering what she should do. Her anger, that had flamed so fiercely originally, subsided, and was replaced by a determination that he wouldn't get away with it. He had just said it so matter-of-factly; she couldn't believe his impudence. "When you come back from the ladies room, put your panties in my jacket pocket!" She ran the words over and over in her head. He must have said something else, what could it be.

But however much she played with the words, she could think of no other interpretation.

She assessed her situation. No one else could possibly have heard what he said to her; there were no witnesses. Indeed, as he had been a perfect gentleman all evening, in front of the Maitre d' and the various other servers that had attended them, she knew that there was no way she could accuse him of making an improper remark that would carry any credibility whatsoever. His statement was perfectly deniable, and yet perfectly clear at the same time.

Worse, she thought. He had just told her that he alone had the power to select her husband for promotion. If she were to make any kind of scene or accusation, it would surely ruin Ian's chance of the job. But she couldn't just ignore it, could she? Suzanne had never felt more alone. She thought again of the tone of voice he had used when he had said those words. Quiet yet confident and demanding. Why was that tone familiar? She racked her brains, and then she remembered with a start the authoritative voice with which John had addressed her the previous evening when she had been so shamelessly exhibitionistic. She flushed at the memory. God! Had she really gone that far? In the excitement and preparation for tonight's meeting with Graham, she had virtually forgotten about the events of last night, except when they popped unbidden into her head. At least, she consoled herself, she hadn't consciously thought about and recalled them. Now, for the second time in 24 hours another man was commanding her to do something that until yesterday had been totally alien to her.