Employee of the Year - Pt. 01

I didn't even bother answering, instead watching Maya interact with the client, resentment growing within me.

"Great job, young lady," I overheard the client say while shaking Maya's hand, his large, hairy fingers dwarfing her little pristine, manicured nails. "I'm looking forward to working with you. I love the vision you shared and I'm excited to see how you're going to showcase your products across all of our stores. Here's to a lucrative and prosperous partnership."

"My pleasure," Maya said, and she appeared to be truly brimming with excitement.

"Eleanor," the client said as he approached us, with a nod of his head, causing her to turn and shake his hand. "Thank you for your time. I'm looking forward to this relationship growing in future."

"It's so lovely to have you on board." Eleanor nodded back, before the client took a look at me. Without saying anything, he nodded, then abruptly walked down the corridor.

"Yoo hoo," Maya screeched once he was out of sight, and she began twirling and dancing on the spot, tapping the heels of her booties against the floor as she flailed around all giddily. It was so unprofessional, and exactly what I'd expect from a girl of her age.

"I'm so proud of you," Eleanor said. "Especially the way you stepped up when Dante was about to blow it."

I snapped my head up, and was about to defend myself, yet there was something so humbling about seeing Maya dance around in all of her youthful excitement. Even though I was devastated at losing the gig, I couldn't draw my eyes away from her booties as they pounded up and down, imagining her beautiful feet with those delicious, smooth soles, stamping me into the ground as she trampled all over my career.

"Dante," Eleanor almost shrieked in a slightly raised voice, startling me from my staring. "Would you get yourself home already? I don't want the rest of the team catching whatever lurgy you've got."

"Uh, yes." I wiped my brow again; a notable stain of sweat forming in my sleeve. Just imagining the remainder of the team succumbing to the draw of Maya's soles was already making my pants feel further constrained. Unsteadily, I rose to my feet, and stumbled slowly down the corridor.

"Wait," Maya called out to me, and she almost galloped along the corridor behind me. Then, she paused, looking back to check that Eleanor wasn't paying attention, before she reached up and strangely patted me on the top of the head.

I flinched, and stared at her in confusion. "What are you doing?" It was just such an offensive thing to do, I mean, I was a grown man, and she was tapping my head as if I were a dog?

She smirked, before leaning in and whispering in my ear, "Good job today, foot boy." She retracted her face, and I stared at her grinning teeth in complete bewilderment. "Piper was so right about you after all."

I could already feel the blood flowing to my cheeks as the embarrassment overwhelmed me. There it was, the final confirmation that all of it had been intentional. She knew the crumbling mess she was looking upon was a result of her actions; she now knew the power her feet held over me. More worrying, she seemed to be revelling in it, not a hint of regret evident on her triumphantly sniggering face. Even though I could already feel the tingles of excitement growing, an excitement I wanted more than anything to cut off, but was powerless to fight, I now hated her with a bile I'd never before understood. I often thought little of my female colleagues, especially when they thought they could compete with me, but it was like that hatred towards Maya was only adding to the growing arousal induced by what she'd done to me.

She clutched the contract in her manicured fingers; the contract that should have been mine. I involuntarily dropped my eyes to her booties, considering that all of this was because of my own weakness for what was hidden away inside.

"Desperate for another look, are you?"

My eyes shot back up, straight into her mocking face. "No," I said, with a bit too much emphasis. "I certainly am not."

Maya closed her eyes, bit her lip, and shook her head, a mixture of disbelief and...confidence. "Well, now I know it works, you'll be seeing them again soon."

I felt a tremble run up my back at the mere thought of this happening again. Was it fear that was making my muscles grow tighter, or was it...excitement? I mean, it had been such an intense, life-changing experience that time Stacey had tamed me with her feet, but, the thought of such a thing happening on a regular basis was making me feel all feverish. "No, I don't--"

She put a finger to her lips and narrowed her eyes. "Shhh, big man. We'll talk about this again soon." She poked her tongue out, and then turned and raced back down the corridor, almost jumping with joy as she headed off to share her news with the rest of the team.

I kept a low profile for the remainder of the week, trying to go on out-visits to clients, so I wouldn't have to see Maya and be taunted by her constant gloating. I'd received a few smarmy comments from those idiots Martin and Deborah, and it was getting too much to have my face constantly rubbed in the fact that my pitch had been usurped by a bloody teenager, and a female one at that. The fact it was the little sister of my ex-girlfriend, only made matters worse, and by this point, the whole office was aware of that fact. Maya had also taken to dropping anecdotes about my prior relationship, and I had to avoid the break room so I wasn't subjected to her taunts. Even simple instances would serve as an opportunity for her to playfully demean me in some way, knowing there was little I could say in response.

"You want a coffee, bud?" Joe asked me one time, another of my colleagues that often stepped in from quality assurance. "I'm about to pour a brew."

"Yeah--"

"Dante, you know you shouldn't have too many coffees in day," Maya interjected from across the room. "Remember that time with my sister where you almost peed your pants?" She rolled her eyes and shook her head dismissively, while Deborah listened and cackled along. "We told him he'd had too much and we couldn't stop the car. But there he was, legs crossed and clutching his crotch, begging for an empty bottle of cola so he could fill it up."

I felt like my face was turning beetroot while she shared that irrelevant piece of information. "That's not how it happened--"

"He was almost crying from the pain."

Joe cocked his head, kettle still poised. "You alright, man?" he asked, while noting the sweat begin to trail down my forehead.

"Forget it," I said, before stomping my way out of the break room, and I'd been avoiding it ever since. It was like Maya recognising my weakness for her feet had opened the floodgates. She knew that she could say whatever she wanted to me now, even in front of others, because there was this secretive submission between us that we were both aware of.

It was towards the end of the week when Eleanor stopped by my office. "You feeling better?" she asked, clutching a cup of tea.

"Much better, thanks." I clicked close on the spreadsheet I'd been working on.

"Good, because we have another client coming in Monday. I need you to put together a pitch. I've just emailed you their information for some background."

"Can't I go to them instead?" I asked, almost in a whiny voice, feeling so much safer when I was away from this building. Away from Maya and her provocative feet. I mean, I'd only had to endure them once, so far, but I was already terrified of the power they held over me. Or was it thrilled? Terrified, thrilled, it was all the same thing.

"No, you can't," she said, matter-of-factly. "I worked hard to get them to come to us, you know, to lessen the load on expenses. Trains and fuel aren't cheap these days."

"Okay," I said, while clicking open the email and having a quick skim. It seemed like just the sort of client I was used to. I already had a few go-to ideas that were entering my head, before a thought crossed my mind. "Will...will Maya be pitching too?"

Eleanor's face screwed up, and she seemed taken aback with confusion. "Why? Why does that matter?"

"Just wondering is all," I answered in an unconvincing tone. "Just want to know what I'm up against."

Eleanor raised an eyebrow. "Pull yourself together. You sound like you're scared or something." She then cocked her head. "Would you be more comfortable in the factory? You know, if competition is getting too much for you."

I felt my back go rigid. "Are you serious?"

"Well, if you keep snivelling around like this, what use are you to me?" She was almost scowling, reminding me how blunt and callous she could sometimes be. "You're my numbers guy. You bring in the signatures, remember? So, do your bloody job, or I'll find someone else that can do it better. Maybe that's Maya?." She rolled her eyes as she walked out. "Especially since you apparently rate her as such a threat."

I grimaced at the disparaging way she was now speaking to me, and it reminded me somewhat of the break-down in her working relationship with Bruce. He'd gone from the top dog, to Eleanor constantly making snide comments behind his back, right up until his racist outburst. She'd often come to me first, instead of him, apparently losing confidence in his abilities as more complaints came through from customers and colleagues alike. The last thing I wanted was for her to start doing the same to me, cosying up to Maya while I was left out to dry.

For the remainder of the day, and right across the weekend, I focused all of my energies into preparing a pitch. I even blew off some buddies that wanted to hang and get wasted on the Saturday night, instead putting a lot of effort into researching the company, and especially the particular individual I'd be pitching to. I wanted to build the same rapport that Maya had seemed to develop with the previous client. I'd usually operated with my deals the same way I did with my women, a strategy of wham, bam and thank you, ma'am. Once I had the paper signed, I was out of there, before they knew what I was really like, and once I'd delivered the agreed upon package, I'd simply move on to the next client. I didn't care about repeat customers, because the commissions were always lower. If I brought on a new, first-time client, I'd get a higher percentage, so I focused my attention in that area. Therefore, I didn't give a fuck about calling clients by their first names or becoming friends or anything. If they called me months after I'd delivered their campaign, whining or asking questions about something, I'd palm them off to Disco Debs. It seemed somewhat naïve of Maya in that regard, to act like a client was a friend, but, bizarrely, Eleanor seemed to like it. So, even if it went against my instincts, I knew I had to adapt my style somewhat.

Monday morning came around and I was the most prepared I'd ever been for a pitch. I didn't even need my laptop and had everything memorised. However, after last time, I wasn't going to be careless. I came in early, as I always did, having planned ahead for a final run through in the meeting room prior to the pitch commencing. As I arrived and exchanged some small talk with the security, I was already running high on caffeine and determined to bring this deal in.

Worryingly, the last deal had brought in a hefty commission to Maya, and Eleanor had made a point of highlighting the fact that we had reached parity in our monthly percentages. This current deal was likely going to be the final one on offer this month, and would decide which of us came out on top. I could barely comprehend how this had happened, and really had no one else to blame but myself. I'd botched that pitch and allowed Maya to creep up on me. It wasn't as if she'd prepared a better pitch or anything, especially considering I hadn't even delivered my own! They'd basically chosen her by default because I'd been unable to perform, so it was a bit rich of her to gloat like she'd done better than me. But, if Maya did come out on top this month, it would mean I was only four months ahead of her with still half of the year to go. More than that, she'd clawed back one month at the first chance of doing so, and it was going to be a huge confidence boost for her. Meanwhile, my morale was going to take a real kicking. I had to get it right this time. If I had six months under my belt, with only five months to go, then the annual bonus was guaranteed to be mine.

I headed to the meeting room for my usual run-through, figuring if Maya did stick her beak in this time, I'd make a determined approach to just ignore her and focus on the task at hand. As beautiful and tempting as her soles were, and God, they were fucking seductively enticing: I had to keep my focus on the commission. However, when I opened the door to the meeting room, I was surprised to see that the light was already on and the projector was fired up. I squinted in confusion, before Maya popped into view from fiddling with the wirings. "Oh, morning," she said before tapping a couple of keys on her laptop. She flung a few strands of her now-straightened hair over her shoulder, the golden highlights twinkling. She already looked so much more composed and professional after her recent success. Though, there was a ridiculously childish pink bow tied in her hair, which seemed to throw off and cheapen the whole look. "I wasn't expecting you in this early."

"What are you doing here?" I asked in an annoyed tone. She'd only gone and snagged the meeting room for herself this time, completely upending my preparation hour. Her acting surprised was just a kick in the teeth, as she was already aware that this was my usual routine.

"I'm preparing for the presentation today," she said, as if I'd asked a stupid question. On this occasion, she'd abandoned the usual shirt and trouser combo, this time wearing a loose-fitting blouse that revealed her lack of bosom and a pair of almost hippie-style jeans that hung from her waist. Her bag was planted beneath the table, and as a result, her feet were safely obscured from view. Instantly, I felt confident of how this could go, as long as that bloody bag stayed where it was.

I looked her up and down, and sniggered as I took in her outfit and realised her faux pas. The pink bow, the revealing blouse and the casual jeans: it was all just way too informal for a pitch. While in my freshly laundered suit, along with a pristine tie and polished shoes, we looked worlds apart. "What the hell are you wearing?" I asked. "You look like you're about to go and smoke some of that shisha or whatever you lot do."

Maya narrowed her eyes. "I'm going to ignore the casual racism," she said in a bitter tone. "Because you're a moron and don't actually know what you're talking about." She breathed a tired sigh while clicking something on the screen." Besides, I need to concentrate on this and don't need you as a distraction."

"I'm the distraction?" I asked in surprise. "After what you did last time, you're calling me the distraction?"

Maya rolled her eyes up at me. "What did I do, Dante?"

"I..." I suddenly lost the conviction in what I was saying. I couldn't make the accusation, without admitting my weakness for her feet. I mean, currently, I'd been able to play it off to Eleanor that I was feeling unwell. Even though it was obvious that Maya knew her feet had gotten under my skin, I mean, she'd taunted me about it afterwards, but it was a whole different story to flat-out admit it. Despite what her sister had told her, I didn't want to confirm her suspicions from my own lips. "How long are you going to be anyway?"

She blinked, and her lips quivered as if she was disappointed I didn't take the bait. "As long as it takes," she said dismissively. "I arrived here earlier to make sure I had the room."

"That's what I usually do."

"Well, not this time, huh?"

"Well, could you hurry things along? I'd like to check through my slides on the projector." After the whole debacle of the previous pitch, I knew I had to get back on task. Even Eleanor had noticed that I was off my game. There was now an obvious chink in my armour and flawless record, and I didn't want that compounded by Maya coming out as the top earner this month. I mean, that would be such an embarrassment, she hadn't even been here that long and was still basically a teenager.

"I'm not stopping you from working," she said, before flicking her fingers towards the desk opposite. "You can work over there. When I'm finished here, you can have your turn."

I stood in place, and felt quite stumped. On the few occasions I'd caught one of the other company gophers in my space, they'd swiftly run off after I raised my voice slightly. Martin and Deborah especially, would always scamper away when they saw me coming bounding into the room, kowtowing to the top salesman. Yet, Maya, the arrogant little shit, felt like she could just tell me to wait my turn. Just because she knew about...well, the very thought of her knowing about my weakness for feet was enough to subside my usual temper. "Just don't take forever, alright? It's not fair--"

Maya let out a deep breath and rolled her eyes. "Don't you even start complaining about things being fair. Try being a woman in this industry." She then uttered under her breath, "Especially having to deal with guys like you." She shook her head. "No wonder Piper had enough of you."

Now, it was my turn to roll my eyes. These feminists were always complaining. Whenever they were beaten by a guy, they always had to make some stupid excuse about how it was harder being a woman. Even though they could sway a client's opinion with a flutter of their eyelashes, or a peek of their cleavage, they always had to cry foul. It was the same way she had always complained when Piper and I didn't involve her during our relationship. If we wanted to go to the movies or for a picnic, she'd always want to tag along. When we refused, she'd go crying to mommy, whining about how it wasn't fair that just because she was younger, that she was left out. I mean, who the hell wants to be a third wheel anyway? Did I ever bring up any of that as a weapon against her, no? Because I wouldn't do that. Or rather, I couldn't, out of fear that she might tell everyone something about me that was horrifically embarrassing.

I thought about saying something, but an argument was just going to make her take longer, so instead, I chose to be the bigger man and set up shop on the desk opposite. As I stepped around where she was, I discreetly dropped my eyes, perhaps foolishly so, before breathing a sigh of relief that Maya was wearing her usual pair of booties again. She always seemed to prefer those boots, making her appear taller than the midget size she actually was. The only exception had been the sandals, with the obvious motive to distract me. I supposed the booties matched well with the ridiculous get-up she was wearing. It was going to be so hilarious when she was lambasted for being dressed so unprofessionally. If we got along, like that first day when I actually thought she wasn't too bad, I may have even given her a heads up. However, now, I was looking forward to watching her crash and burn. I mean, despite her feet being as deliciously sexy as the rest of her, I was still annoyed that I'd lost the commission.

Once my laptop was fired up, I settled in and flicked through the slides, silently mouthing my rehearsed speech as I practised the order. Meanwhile, Maya sat in the seat next to the projector, and flicked through her own presentation. There was complete silence, and it seemed that perhaps she'd matured away from the previous shenanigans. Maybe she was even ill-prepared and had to focus on her own work, instead of trying to fuck around with mine.

I was just about to go for a second run-through, when I heard the sounds of something clunking against the floor. My head popped up, just to witness that Maya was staring straight at me, the one side of her mouth raised into a lop-sided smirk. "How's your preparation going, Dante?" she asked while cocking her head. "I hope I'm not distracting you like last time?"