Binders Full of Women

So, she wasn't just an affair or a hooker. She was after a job. I wondered if she was one of the women in the rejection binders or maybe she made it past the binders by offering sex.

The woman stood up and came over to me. "What are you doing?" I asked.

She smiled a dirty kind of grin and took the computer mouse from my hand. With a few clicks, she began playing seductive music on the media player.

"Governor Barton, I need the Murphy document," I persisted. Personally, at this point, I didn't care about keeping this sorry assed, sexist womanizer out of trouble with his meeting. I just wanted to get this over with and get out. I hadn't worked and scraped my way through law school to have this horny bastard jeopardize my legal career.

"The report is on my desktop," he said. "You can send it to them."

I minimized the meeting window and searched the icons on the desktop. As I searched, the woman began dancing around the conference table doing a strip tease. As she peeled off the last bits of her clothing, I found the Murphy report and uploaded it to the meeting participants. When I opened the meeting window, I saw that several messages had appeared in the chat box asking where the report was. I quickly typed in a message saying the computer was running slow and apologizing for the delay.

The governor stood up and bent the woman over the table. He kicked her legs apart and shoved his prick inside her with one swift push. He began fiercely drilling her, making the table vibrate with every thrust. He grabbed a fist full of her flaming auburn hair and began to pull, causing her neck to bend back.

"Hey!" she cried out. "That hurts!"

His lips curled into a cruel smile. He continued driving into her and pulling her hair, ignoring her protests."

"Stop!" she pleaded.

His face twisted into a grimace as he climaxed. His hold relaxed, and the woman scrambled out of his clutches and backed away from him. She wiped tears from her eyes, smearing her mascara. The governor simply stood smiling at her. "That will conclude our meeting Miss Taylor," he said to her. He gathered his clothes from the floor and walked toward a door at the back of the room.

"My name's Turner!" she shouted angrily after him.

Barton kept walking and exited the room, closing the door behind him. Watching the woman pick up her lingerie, I felt like I was going to be sick. She stuffed her lingerie into her purse and put on her coat, buttoning it completely to hide her nudity. She slipped on her heals. I stammered. "Is there something I can do to help?" I asked, although I wasn't entirely sure what I could do.

She looked at me with pain in her eyes. "I'm so ashamed. He told me he would help me get a job; that he would put in a good word for me with the committee for a cabinet position." She pulled a tissue from her pocket and blotted her eyes. "But he's not going to help me. You saw what he did! There's nothing you or anyone else can do to help me now."

"We could go to the police," I said, realizing at once how stupid that sounded.

She looked at me incredulously and nodded toward the door. "I think the police already know, don't you?" She opened the door and hurried out, and the state trooper followed her as she left the building.

If this was the way the governor treated women, I could see why he couldn't keep a secretary. I was seething with anger over the way Barton treated Veronica Turner and all the women in the binders for that matter. I clicked out of the meeting on the governor's computer and returned to my desk. There I found a note from the information technology office asking me to call them when I was finished with my meeting. I called and was told that a technician would be by to see me in a few minutes. Until then, I turned my attention to stamping the resumes in the binders. It was pointless to even take the time to stamp them if they were going to be destroyed soon. Since I had some time to spare, I flipped through the resumes to see if Veronica Turner's documents were in the binder. I wasn't surprised to find that they were. I read over her qualifications. She was an MBA and a top level manager of a corporation but lost her job because of downsizing. That explained her desperation, I concluded. Looking about to ensure no one was around; I quickly removed the resume from the binder and slipped it into my portfolio. I planned to make a copy and then return the original to the binder.

I heard someone running up the stairs. I looked up and saw a freckle-faced, way too young looking boy wearing thick glasses and braces coming toward my desk. He carried a huge stack of manuals that accentuated his wiry frame.

"Don't tell me," I smiled, "You're from technology."

"Yeah, I am Brad," he smiled shyly. "I'm here to give you your login information and show you around the system." He handed me a copy of the state government's acceptable use policy and a sheet with my username and temporary password. I logged into the system and Brad explained the various applications available to me as the executive secretary. "You have access to the personnel database. In it, you'll find all the data on every state employee. It also includes an applicant tracking system that will help you keep track of new applicants from the time personnel receives the application to the interview and hiring. It's used mostly by Human Resources, but you may need to enter candidates as well. Rita did."

"Who is Rita?" I asked.

"She was the secretary before you," Brad answered.

"Do we have her contact information?" I asked tentatively. "Just in case I have a question that she could answer."

"Her information is still in the system, but you'll probably have better luck asking Mr. Walsh if you have a question."

"Why is that? She was the secretary who dealt with the office every day."

Brad looked at the floor. "Well, she left here kind of mad. We're not supposed to contact her."

"I understand," I said pensively. Seeing that he was uncomfortable, I changed the subject. "So, Brad, are you a student?"

He flipped his bangs out of his eyes and ran his tongue across his braces. "No. I've been full time in this job for five years."

"Really? I asked, somewhat surprised. "You look so young."

"It's the braces," he said. "I'm twenty-eight."

Brad continued by explaining the meeting management calendar. He showed me how to set up a meeting, reserve meeting space, and send invitations. He also showed me how to find the telephone numbers and office locations of all employees and track their assignments and committee memberships. He finished off by handing me the stack of manuals. "Everything you need to know about all of these systems is here in the reference manuals. If you get stuck and need assistance, call the help desk. The number is already programmed into your phone's speed dial menu."

"Excellent! I'm glad you're finally making yourself useful, Brad." Walsh said, coming out of his office with his coat slung over his arm. "Now that he's shown you the system, Miss Long, you can get started on scheduling the interviews for the governor. I'll need you to stay late for the next couple of nights until you get them all scheduled."

I checked the time on the computer screen. It was already five o'clock, and I was more than ready to go home after the day I'd had.

"Is that a problem?" Walsh asked, apparently noticing my concern. "You will need to be flexible about staying late for this job."

"I hadn't planned on starting the job today," I asserted. "I have some things I need to do this evening."

"Then you can stay until seven. That should give you time do whatever it is you need to do." Walsh strode toward the elevator, carrying himself in a manner that said the matter was settled.

"You're leaving?" I asked with a little more incredulity in my voice than I should have.

Walsh turned and scowled at me. "My work is finished," he said. As he stepped into the elevator, he added, "I can't give you comp time for your work over 40 hours. Budget cuts." The elevator doors closed, and I looked at Brad.

"Is he always this pleasant?" I asked, annoyed.

"That was actually nice for Walsh," Brad said. "So, are you good here?" he gestured to the manuals. "I mean I can stay awhile if you need me to..."

"No," I said. "I've got this. You go ahead and do whatever you need to do."

"I'm going to go start some reports to run overnight. Then, I'm headed out for the day," he said. "Call me in the morning if you have any problems." Brad trotted down the stairs and was soon out of sight.

I moved to the top of the stairs. Looking below, I watched the steady stream of bureaucrats leaving the building. After a few minutes, it appeared the building was largely empty. It was an excellent opportunity to collect more information on the governor's activities. His appointment with Veronica Turner had been well planned. He had called in a state trooper to guard the door. Walsh had been noticeably absent. It was clear that Barton had probably done this before. I had to find other women he'd taken advantage of. First, I began scanning Barton's calendar. The web meeting was noted on the calendar. I clicked on the entry, and the details appeared. Of course, there was no mention of Veronica Turner. Obviously, Barton wasn't stupid, and this investigation was going to take time. I scanned through the governor's appointments over the last few months. Although nothing appeared especially suspicious, I made note of all the dates and times of web meetings. I sent the information to myself on a secure, encrypted email server that Mistress Jones uses to send 121 workers their schedules and other information from the dungeon.

I withdrew Veronica Turner's resume from my portfolio and went to the records room. I swiped my ID card to unlock the door. The records room was full of shelves of files, binders, and boxes. I began searching through the records. Eventually, I found a shelf holding a number of black binders similar to those the governor had given me earlier. I pulled one from the shelf and began browsing through the pages. As I suspected, they were full of women's resumes. Some had been submitted by individuals, and others were accompanied by endorsements from state and national women's professional organizations. There were so many, and soon Walsh would make me shred them. There wasn't enough time to copy them all. Thinking quickly, I retrieved one of the newest binders and removed about a hundred resumes. I ran them through the high speed scanner on the copier along with Veronica Turner's resume and emailed them to my encrypted email account. I replaced them in the binder and returned it to its place on the shelf.

I closed the door to the records room and returned to my desk. I put Veronica's resume back into the binder at my desk. Glancing at the time, I knew I had to quickly make some calls to arrange interviews so Walsh wouldn't suspect anything. I opened the blue binder full of male applicants and began making calls. By seven, I had successfully scheduled a whopping ten interviews. I hoped Walsh wouldn't notice how few had been scheduled. I gathered my portfolio and made my way downstairs. As I headed toward the door, I heard a voice behind me.

"Miss Long?" Mable Black's ample frame was waddling toward me. I waited for her to catch up. "I'm glad I caught you," she continued. "I don't like walking alone through the parking garage when it's late. Rapists, you know."

"Right," I smiled. "Don't we have security in the garage after hours?" I asked.

"Well, they do patrols, but their hours have been cut, so it's best to walk with someone else when you can. Besides, morale isn't the best right now, and I wouldn't count on the rent-a-cops they contract with to patrol the grounds."

We walked past the guard post at the back entrance of the capitol, and I noticed no one was on duty. The door to the guard booth was hanging open. "I see what you mean," I said. Secretly, I was pleased to find that I may have an opportunity to get into the guard post to look at the records of people who had appointments with the governor. It might be the only way to track down the names of women who may have been subjected to Barton's private "interviews."

We walked out the door and across the concourse. It looked like most people were gone already, and the parking structure was largely empty. "I'm parked fairly close, " I said to Mable. "I can drive you to your car if you like."

"Thanks," she said, huffing and out of breath, even from the short walk.

"I have some questions about the employee applicant tracking system," I said casually, as we reached my car. "Would you have time to show me some things if I stop by your office tomorrow morning?"

"Sure, no problem," she said. "You need to stop by anyway to pick up your insurance packet." We reached my Buick, and she stopped short. "Wow! You really needed this job, didn't you?" Obviously, tact was not her strong suit.

"Yeah, this was the only thing I could afford in law school," I explained as we got in.

"You're in law school?" she asked, sounding surprised as she shifted her weight into the passenger seat.

"Actually, I graduated," I responded. I pulled out of the parking place, and Mable began directing me toward her car, which was on another level.

"Then you're really over-qualified for the job you're in," she said. "They screwed you too, didn't they?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, not sure I wanted to take the bait of that question.

"The good 'ol boy network," she said. "I'll bet you applied all over state government, didn't you? Couldn't get a job, could you? It's a man's world on the capitol hill."

So, she knew. "Yes, I've been applying for jobs here for more than six months. This secretary job was the first and only opportunity I've had to get on with state government."

"Jerks!" Mable growled as we pulled up to her car.

"Yeah," I agreed, watching her heave herself out of my car.

"Well, hopefully someday things will change," she said as she climbed into her car. I waited until she started her engine.

"Hopefully so," I said as I nodded and drove off.