Bach and Chocolate

Marissa decided that it was her day to run a bit of an inspection. This was always John's way of dealing with the place, especially as it got bigger and bigger. He would walk random inspections, after work hours and the place was at rest, to see how it looked, and how it felt. He always insisted that it gave him a good sense of the place. And as with other practices, Marissa continued John's habits long after he was gone. She was completely aware that it was because he had let her grow into the business, with his patient and kind help, that she could run it so successfully now.

It caused her to sigh. She knew that time had certainly gone on, it was maybe five years, but in ways she still missed her older, cuddly John, and she was all the more determined to do well with their company, his company.

It's what Marissa Meers did at age 33; she ran the company. She was, had become, a company woman, so to speak. She knew they all respected her, and that some of them were inordinately fond of her. She also knew that some held closely loved, closely cherished prejudices and called her, they thought behind her back, 'the black bitch' and worse.

Her secretary, Sally, had heard one such remark and told Marissa about it. Sally had been really upset by it but it caused Marissa to just laugh:

"Oh, Sally, Sally, you can always tell the shape of someone's soul by the evil names that they call others. I know that they call me 'the black bitch' but who cares? They work for me, and they know that."

Marissa was half way into her reverie, when she heard voices. She'd entered the warehouse, storage, shipping area of the works now and stopped to listen. She knew that no one was supposed to be here at this time.

"You do it now, or you lose your happy home here, boy!" a rough voice said.

Marissa recognized the voice as Herb Smith's. He ran this part of the operation. He was older and certainly one of the 'black bitch' crowd, as she called him.

She was holding a recorder that she habitually used to give herself messages and simply turned it on, as she got to the storage room door.

Herb was there with one of the new guys, a Christian Arenson, she believed. They were having an argument of sorts. Marissa was just about to intervene when Herb went on:

"Look at it this way, pretty boy; you're living here and the black bitch won't have that. So what, you lost your digs. This is my area and you'll pay the tariff or you'll lose this happy home. So that, if you're not on your knees in one minute with my cock in your mouth, you're out of here totally: no home, no job, no place to play your fuckin' fiddle!"

Christian, who couldn't see Marissa either, had a look of murder on his face. It was obvious from her reading of the situation that Herb had gotten himself in over his head and didn't even know it yet. It was then that she spoke up:

"Hey, Herb!" she said quietly.

Herb's face was ashen, as he saw Marissa in the doorway:

"Marissa, uh, Ms. Meers," he stammered, "I didn't see you there."

"No, I guess not, Herb," she said, "But shouldn't it be 'black bitch?'"

"Sorry about that," Herb continued to stammer, "Didn't see you there."

"Obviously," she said, and smiled. "But you know, Herb, I'm going to show you that there are no hard feelings. I'm going to offer you an early retirement package that will allow you to begin to collect on your 401K instead of firing your ass, instead of turning you into the police for attempted sodomy."

Here she held up the recorder for him to see; he blanched.

"But . . ." he began, trembling a bit now.

"No, no, Herb," she went on, "You've had your say, and I've had mine. We'll leave it go at that. I'll get the paper work started. You don't need to come in anymore."

In an instant it was clear that he was defeated. Herb was that kind of bully that deflated once his bluff was called.

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

"And, Herb," she continued, "Don't even think of revenge; you don't want to screw with me or my family, right?"

"Yes, Melisssa, uh, Ms Meer!" he said.

"Go ahead," she went on, "Say it to my face one time, Herb; it'll make you feel better."

He looked at her with a strange look and then growled at her:

"You black bitch!"

The next few minutes were extremely confusing, so much happened so quickly.

Marissa simply laughed at what Herb had called her and the total ineffectiveness of his undisguised racial and gender hate.

At the very same time, Herb, self satisfied, turned to grin at Christian, and Christian, having waited for Herb to be looking, hit the pot bellied man in the stomach. Herb blanched terribly and went to his knees. Christian stood back and just watched at that point and Marissa let out a surprised "Ohhh".

"Now, Herb," Christian said evenly, "I hit you in the stomach for a few reasons, and I want you to hear them and understand them. If you're with me, shake your head, pal."

Herb, still clutching his stomach, shook his head 'yes', and Christian continued:

"First, you don't address a lady that way! Second, if you have tiny minded racial hatreds, then you keep them to yourself. Remember what Thumper's mom said:

'If you can't say something nice about someone, then don't say anything at all!' You hearing me, Herb?"

Herb shook his head 'yes' again and Christian went on:

"Third, she's the boss and deserves respect from you, and finally, Herb, I did it as a favor, so that there won't be a mark and you don't have to explain a black eye, or damaged face to anyone."

He hesitated for a moment, and Marissa simply looked on with a smile. Then Christian spoke again.

"I seriously don't know what was going on in your mind that made you think that you could extort a blow job out of me, Herb! And I'm going to let that one pass. I imagine that you'd better go now."

Marissa spoke up at that point:

"Herb, you don't need to come back in until I contact you to sign your papers. I'll make sure that your early retirement settlement is a nice one. Now, you just do what Christian told you to do and leave now."

Herb simply nodded his head and, rubbing his stomach still, stalked out.

"Trouble?" Christian asked of Marissa.

"Our Herb is a biggot, bully and a coward. We're pretty much quits with him now."

"Ma'am," Christian began, embarrassed, "I'm sorry about. . ."

She never let him get far into his statement:

"We'll just leave it go, Christian, as it is. And I think that tomorrow morning you should come to my office and we'll talk about you having Herb's position."

"Thank you, ma'am," Christian said softly.

"It's Marissa," she answered him. "Well, I need to get on my way, Christian. You have a pleasant evening."

He smiled, nodded and turned away. She made no further inquiry about his living situation and was determined to talk to Sally about it, so that no fuss would be raised. She went back to her office and sat to think about the whole incident. After a while, she decided to go and ask Christian if he'd like a drink. He did intrigue her and gave her a sense of wanting to know him better. When she got to the warehouse, shipping area things suddenly changed, unexpectedly changed.

As soon as she was in the building it happened. The whole building was filled with a soft and glorious sound. She recognized immediately one of Bach's unaccompanied cello suites. It reverberated around the building and filled the whole space.

"Of course," Marissa said to herself, "Herb had mentioned his 'fiddle'; he plays the cello."

Just then he made a mistake and she could hear him curse. She just barely covered her mouth and suppressed her giggle. He started again and this time, it was flawless. She sat and listened until he was finished with it and began to play scales. She slipped out quietly at that point, murmuring to herself:

"So, Christian's 'fiddle'!" She was slowly shaking her head as she said it. The loveliness of the music was almost a spiritual experience for Marissa, moving her greatly. It caused her to think a great deal. By the next morning, she had already, characteristically for her, formulated a number of plans.

She was early in the office, which caused her secretary/assistant, Sally, to shake her head and say:

"Oh, no, something is up if the wicked witch of the west is here early!"

"Watch your tongue, girl!" Marissa quipped at Sally, as she collected a hug from the totally devoted secretary. "And, if it's any of your business, I do have a number of items that need tending this morning."

"Yes, like sorting Herb Smith out!" Sally answered.

"You have a nose as long as an elephant's," Marissa said with a smile. "So, you know about that little incident."

"Yes, but I'm keeping it quiet," Sally said, "And I say 'good riddance' to him. I'll get his paper work ready for you to look over. I assume you want the usual early retirement arrangement put into writing?"

"Yes, let's just get rid of him," Marissa answered, nodding.

"And?" Sally prompted.

"And I have a meeting coming with Mike Robson but that's personal stuff," Marissa said pointedly, and was ignored by Sally.

"Mike?" she said.

Marissa sighed and said: "Yes, I'm going to ask Mike to rehab the apartment above the carriage house, garage at home."

"What a lovely idea," Sally said and stopped herself cold. She shook her finger at Marissa and said: "Calculating! Scheming! You're going to offer that apartment to Christian Arenson!"

Marissa grinned at her: "I'm surprised that it took you so long to work it out." Then she sat down and said:

"Sally, someone has to help him a bit. I wandered back into the warehouse last night and heard him play that cello."

"I heard that he was a musician," Sally said softly.

"It was way beyond wonderful!" Marisssa said, "So, someone needs to step in and help him out just a bit."

"And eventually jump on his bones!" Sally said with a broad grin.

"You evil minded sprite!" Marissa shot back at Sally's retreating back.

"'Sticks and stones'," Sally said over her shoulder, grinning at her equally grinning boss all the while. "I'll send Mike in as soon as he gets here."

"And, I am expecting Christian Arenson too," Marissa said, turning to go.

Sally hooted!: "I was waiting for that one!"

"Don't you start with me, missy!" Marissa said, trying to give Sally a truly withering look and only collapsing into grins again.

"Mike first," Sally said, "Then Christian, when the pad work is all set up. After all if the spider is going to invite the fly into her parlor, the parlor has to be ready!"

"Go!" Marissa shouted.

"I'm going," Sally said, curtseying to the boss before leaving.

Sally popped her head back around the door frame for another second and said:

"By the way, Marissa, I do love you!"

Marissa smiled a beatific smile and said: "I know that, you bad girl!"

"My best quality!" Sally said before she disappeared again.

Mike was there in just a few minutes. Marissa greeted him cordially, since he'd been with the company for such a time.

"Mike, thanks for coming," Marissa said.

They were indeed old friends, for Mike had began working for John, when he was only developing the company.

"So, what's up," Mike asked.

"How are we doing, in terms of the projects in house?" Marissa wanted to know.

"Very well, actually," Mike said and went into details with her. She was totally satisfied, once he was done.

"Well, I have a kind of favor to ask," Marissa went on.

"You well know," he said evenly, "Anything for you."

"It's my carriage house at home. It's the garage and it has a large apartment above it, which needs to be rehabbed. Can you look at it for me? I will do the usual, Mike, your regular salary here and whatever construction fee would be right."

"You don't have to do that," Mike protested, but she held up her hand and went on:

"No, you're good enough to help me out often with these projects and I want to show that I appreciate it!"

"Fine," he said, "I can go look it over this morning. I'll take Denny with me, and we'll have estimates for you later today."

"As usual," she said, "The greatest!" giving him an appreciative hug.

Sally came in after Mike left and Marissa told her about Mike and Denny going to the house to look over the carriage house apartment for rehabbing.

"Sounds like 'the games afoot'!" Sally quipped.

"Yes, Sherlock, it is!" Marissa answered.

"And Christian Arenson is waiting on your pleasure!" Sally said then.

"Fine, send him in next, I want to talk to him about Herb's job."

"Great idea!" Sally said, going out to fetch Christian.

He began by being grateful and apologetic to her for the 'living in the warehouse' issue. He went on quickly to explain that it was temporary because he needed a place to practice, and his old place was going condo and he wasn't interested in buying it, so the residency permit had been ended rather abruptly.

But she held up her hand and silenced him and said:

"No, we don't have to talk about that right now. You just do what you need, and we're fine."

She took the time then to talk to him about Herb's position, which she was hoping that he could fill. Christian seemed interested in the proposition and spoke about some of the observations that he had about the way that the warehouse worked.

Marissa was impressed by his insights and they came to an agreement for the position.

"And I will look for a new place to live," he said, "It's just that places are so hard to find these days, especially places where I would be able to practice."

"Oh, yes," she said, "Your 'fiddle'," and she grinned.

"Yes," he said, shaking his head and smiling, "My fiddle!"

"And," she went on then," I haven't been able to properly thank you for your reaction to my being called 'the black bitch'," she said softly. "I appreciated that, Christian."

He only smiled and nodded. And they seemed to be set; he would start the overseer's job in the warehouse the next day. She asked him to be sure to come to her frequently so that she was aware of what was happening, what he was doing and what he needed.

"It's a kind of 'need to know' thing," she said. "I am interested in knowing pretty much what's happening in all the departments."

"Yes," he said, "I admire that style very much."

It made her smile.

So, for the next few days it became a habit for her. She 'invaded' his space late to listen to the lovely music that he made, before she went home. She'd invariably sit quietly to listen to his music, his practicing. It became a source of wondrous pleasure for her.

It was only after about a week that she once again called Christian into her office for a chat. By then Mike and Denny had done their usual quick and thorough job.

When he was there with her, she began:

"It's about your living arrangement, Christian,"

He held up a hand and said: "Yes, I know and I do apologize. I have some places to look at this week and I will get it settled, I totally promise."

She smiled and said: "Thank you but what I want to tell you is that I have a rather large carriage house at my place that doubles as a garage. It has a fairly large sized apartment above it, about 2400 square feet and I was wondering if you'd like to have a look at it to maybe take it.

He was dumb struck immediately.

I . . .uh. . .I don't know what to say," he stammered. "That's such a nice, uh, gesture. . .uh, sure!" He shook his head in wonder for another minute and then, smiling said: "I'd love to look at it."

He was grinning from ear to ear by the time that he was finished saying that much.

"Could you look at it today?" she asked. "It's been recently rehabbed and is in good shape."

"Wonderful!" he said, "Uh, how much is the rent, if I could ask."

"Oh," She hesitated, "I haven't really thought about that. Maybe whatever you were paying at the other place, I guess. I didn't really have any intention to be a 'landlord' so much as to maybe help out a friend."

He smiled at her and said softly: "Yes, yes, thank you, 'help out a friend'."

"So, after work?" she asked.

"Great!" he answered. "After work!"

Before she left the office, she spoke to Sally.

"How's the garage project coming, Amazing One?" Sally asked, suspicion in her voice.

"Well, " Marissa said and hesitated.

"Tell!" Sally demanded, and they both grinned.

Marissa told Sally about the rehabbing of the carriage house apartment being finally finished.

"Haven't used it in an age," she concluded, "And it's so big. I am going to offer it to Christian, seeing that he doesn't have a place."

"Schemer!" Sally said softly and exchanged a grin with Marissa before beginning to dance in a circle and chant: "Boss is going hunting! Boss is going hunting!"

"Stop it or I'll spank your fanny!" Marissa said with all the authority that she could muster.

Sally laughed and said: "I'm thinking, Boss, that if anyone here is going to be the spankee, it'll be the lovely, lovely chocolate brown babe who's angling for old Christian!"

Marissa laughed and said: "Stop it! Even if you're right! Oh, why do I put up with you?"

Then, with an enquiring look on her face, she asked: "Do we have information on Christian? His cell phone number?"

"Schemer!" Sally sang out as she got the number for Marissa.

"Friendly gesture!" Marissa replied.

"Good, tell me all about your friendly gesture and what you and he were wearing tomorrow!"

They both broke into giggles at that and Mariss went to Sally, put her arms around her for a hug and kissed her cheek.

"I'm out of here!" she said to Sally, as Sally began to make the musical 'shark' noises from 'Jaws'.

"Stop!" Marissa said, as she walked out the door.

She found Christian waiting in the parking lot and they drove separately to her place.

Her home was one that she and John had lavished care upon. It was a large, old brick home that was modernized inside very tastefully and had the extra charm of that outside carriage house/garage.

She left her car outside of the garage and went to a side door, opening it and walking ahead of Christian up the stairs to the apartment.

Christian was mesmerized, as he walked behind her, watching the swish of her butt cheeks under the fabric of her business suit.

(He had, he mused, never been one to be attracted to afro-american women but he found his personal lust-meter on high alert with Marissa. He suppressed the notion, immediately reminding himself that she was the 'Boss' and he wasn't going to go screwing up his present job situation, which, he hoped, would see him through the present time, as he awaited the symphony auditions. But he was grinning with the sight, as he got to the top of the stairs.)

Marissa looked at him, a question showing on her face.

"Oh," he said, realizing that he'd been caught. "It all looks so lovely."

He couldn't read her face at all as she nodded, with an ever so slight smile around her mouth, and said a word of 'thanks', leading him into and around the apartment.

His next comment was an audible "Wow!", as they went through the newly worked on apartment.

"Yes," she said, "Mike Robson and Danny Watts did it. They do good work!"

"I guess," he said.

"Uh, Ms. Meers," he went on, a bit chagrined by the generosity of all of this, "I really . . ."

"Please, here at home can't it be Merissa?" she asked softly.

"Exactly!" he said, "Marissa, it's so lovely and this is a wonderful gesture."

She smiled, "Well, I will leave you to wander around and try it out, so to speak. Excuse me for a bit; I need to go and change."

"Of course, and thank you again!" he said.

Next came a significant turn of events for Christian. He was wandering the apartment and mentally arranging his few things, when he casually glanced out of the window, that pointed toward the big house. The room that he faced had a window with curtains two-thirds of the way closed. Just then, if by design, or mere accident is hard to tell, Christian saw Marissa walk by the curtain gap. She now had her suit jacket and her blouse off and was wearing a skirt and a beige bra. Her breasts, he realized immediately, were quite large.