Employee of the Year - Pt. 01

Maya crossed her arms, and dipped her head towards me, observing me with some concern. "What's wrong with you suddenly?" she queried. "You getting nervous or something?" She then eased up and chuckled to herself. "You always like this before a big pitch"--she shifted her entire posture, then made a show of moving one foot towards me--"or has something thrown you off your game, Dante?"

I was still determined to keep my eyes up and avoid looking down, but even in my peripheral vision, I could tell the exact thing I was dreading was down there: flesh. I didn't even need to drop my eyes for a clear look. She wasn't wearing the booties today, that much was evident, but whatever she had chosen to wear: her feet were clearly visible. My secret weakness, that I'd hidden so well at the office, namely a pretty girl's feet, were now right there, down on the floor, wielded by my office rival. As many thoughts were dancing around my head, I knew it couldn't have been a coincidence. She meets up with her sister over the weekend, her bitch of a sister, the one girl who knows of my ultimate weakness, that being my penchant for pretty feet, and then she turns up in freaking sandals or something the next day. A girl that's been wearing booties for months, randomly wears shoes that basically leave her feet naked for all to see, the same day the two of us are going up against each other in a pitch? It had to be intentional, and it was obvious that she was trying to distract me.

"Where's the boots?" I asked while looking straight ahead, a noticeable waver in my voice. "You're back to being a munchkin, huh?" I tried to make light of the whole situation and distract away from the obvious elephant in the room. "I'd forgotten how short you are."

Don't look down, Dante, don't look down. But then I started thinking: what if her feet weren't actually that nice? What if she had ugly feet, and her attempt at distracting me was actually amusing? This was Mozzy Maya, after all. They couldn't be pretty, could they? All it would take was a simple glance down to confirm her feet were nothing special, and then I'd be filled with confidence once more. I could taunt and goad her as much as I wanted, knowing there was not a single thing she could hold over me. A simple look down, that's all it would take. But...what if her feet were actually pretty? What if that annoying, aloof, Maya actually had a beautiful pair of feet that I couldn't resist? That would surely change everything in our dynamic, and I'd be a helpless, infatuated, idiot whenever I was around her. All of our history, and how she'd annoyed me as a tween, would become meaningless as I lusted for her and her pretty feet. If anything, the fact I now despised her, would only add to any weakness I'd subsequently feel for her, because I just had this thing. This complex that left me feeling like putty when I was subjected to the sight of a girl's feet. I shivered while imagining Maya using her feet to get whatever she wanted from me. It was both an exciting and mortifying thought. I couldn't risk looking down, I just couldn't risk it, just in case. Just in case Maya had an irresistible pair of peds. Just in case Mozzy Maya finally had a way to shut me up once and for all.

Maya's head twitched while our eyes remained locked on each other; her hopefully oblivious to the turmoil a simple change of footwear had induced within me. I mean, she had to have known what wearing shoes like that would do to me if Piper had told her of my kink, but she could she really understand the sheer level of shit this was going to cause me in my ability to be around her? "How do you know I'm not wearing my boots, Dante?" she asked. "You haven't even looked down since we've been talking." She suddenly narrowed her eyes and slightly poked out her tongue.

"Ummm," I whispered, while struggling not to do the inevitable and break eye contact. "I noticed when I came in."

"Oh, really?" she said with a snigger while stepping slightly towards me. Her eyes were truly gleaming as she seemed to relish toying with the uncomfortable awkwardness between us. "You notice that kind of thing, do you?"

"Ummm, no," I squeaked as I felt the walls closing in on me. I suddenly felt like I was losing control of my tongue, and instead of being able to form a coherent sentence, I found myself blubbering and gurning. "Ummm, I, well, err, I, no."

Maya cupped a hand to her mouth. "Wow, has the big shot gone all shy?" She rolled her eyes off to the side and nodded to herself. "I guess my sister was right after all."

"Wha..." I whispered, already fearing the truth. I mean, it had been bluntly obvious from the moment I'd noticed her heels were visible, but I was still trying to delude myself that maybe she didn't know. My entire spine went rigid as my heart began to pound in my chest. Part of me couldn't believe this was actually happening, and I felt like the world was closing in on me and I was unable to clamber free. "What...what did your sister say?" I felt like my eyes were almost bursting and bloodshot, as I refused to blink in fear I'd carelessly look down. Don't look down, Dante. If you look down, it's all over.

"Well, you know how I had a weekend away with the family at our lake house?"

"Yeah," I said, without really paying attention. I was way too distracted by what was going on at the bottom of Maya's legs. Piper had often spoke of taking a romantic weekend away to their grandmother's lake house, though we'd broken up before it ever happened.

"Yeah, I got to have a good catch-up with my sister. First time I've really seen her since she moved across the country. She's really been impressed for months about the job I've bagged myself. But she hadn't fully appreciated the fact that we were working so close together, until this weekend, when I told her we were pitching to the same client." While I continued to stare straight forward, she tilted her head and squinted at me. "Are you alright, you seem like you've zoned out a little there, buddy?"

"Ugh, yes, I'm good," I said. Obviously, because it was taking so much effort not to drop my gaze, my thoughts were a frantic mixture of panic. Don't look down.

"Well, anyway, as I was saying, I had a very interesting conversation with Piper this weekend." I noticed her rise slightly, as she obviously must have lifted onto her toes. It was so, so tempting to look down, to drop my guard and give in to her blatant bait, but I somehow managed to hold firm.

I swallowed nervously. "Oh, really?" I waited for her to elaborate, still keeping my eyes straight on her as sweat began to trickle down my cheeks. Meanwhile, she just stared at me while chewing her lip, almost as if sizing me up, I felt increasingly uncomfortable. "What about?"

She dropped back down. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Umm, not really." I awkwardly reached out behind me, and then off to the side of the wall, not really knowing what I was searching for but feeling like I was on the verge of collapsing at any moment. It was like I had huge weight suddenly dumped on my shoulders as the significance of what was happening hit home. I was being played, well and truly played, and I needed to escape.

"Well, since you asked, I told her about the annual award and bonus." She nodded her head as a slight smirk settled on her lips. "I told her you were way ahead and I'd have to top every monthly commission total for the remainder of the year." She shrugged, and nonchalantly flipped her hair, before sighing and talking out of the side of her mouth. "I told her it was probably a lost cause. That you won it every year and were really focused." She pursed her lips. "She had a lot of thoughts on you keeping focus."

"Uh, good for you." My muscles were beginning to shiver as my nerves were about to give out.

"Yeah, I mentioned you work here before, but this time, we had a real good chat about you. Once she found out we were going up against each other for this pitch, and that there was a real, financial incentive for me to better you, well, my sister really came through for me." She smirked and nodded, almost maliciously. "She really dished the dirt. Who would have thought, Dante, that you were hiding so many secrets?"

I felt my spine tense up, and even though I was supremely confident in myself, there was a lingering doubt regarding what they may have spoken about. Which secrets that Piper had deemed worthy of sharing? "That's cool," I said, trying to keep my nerve. "Hope she's doing well."

"Anyway," she said, while her dark eyes continued to pierce straight through me. "She told me something very interesting about you." She lifted a foot into the air and flicked it out towards me, apparently trying to catch me off guard. Somehow, I still managed to keep my eyes up, despite the blurry flash of flesh in my peripheral view.

As I sweated and simmered in place, I lamented how I hadn't been more appreciative of those booties she always wore. Even though I hated those stupid booties, now I bloody missed them! They were ugly as far as I was concerned. Everyone else in the office wore the professional dress shoes, a mixture of brogues, closed pumps or flats. Of course, Eleanor got away with wearing whatever she wanted, but I always opted for the plain, black leather brogues. It wasn't even the booties themselves that annoyed me, it was the fact they had a huge heel and elevated front. As a result, the little girl I remembered when I was dating her sister, was propelled up to a statuesque, intimidating parity. The raised heel also straightened her legs out, giving her a svelte posture. As a result, when wearing those awful things, she actually stood almost level in height with me, despite being shorter in a reality. For some reason, over the weeks, I'd found it increasingly annoying as I watched her prance around the office. On the few occasions I'd been in the corridor while she'd greet a client, I'd noticed that the client was automatically drawn towards her during the greeting, as if she was the senior figure, and ignoring whoever she was paired up with.

But, now, as I was wracked by anxiety, I was mournful of the fact I hadn't cherished those booties for what they were: protection. Not a protection for Maya's feet, but rather, a protection for myself. I mean, those booties were still extremely annoying, but, they had been my lifesaver, because they obscured what was waiting for me inside.

You see, Maya was a tiny, petite girl. She barely had any muscles to speak of, her frame being lean and slender. Like her sister, the Middle Eastern influence was evident, particularly in her dark facial features and hair. She was definitely pretty, but she was dainty and harmless. Her diminutive form was not at all a threat to any man on the planet, and with that, probably most girls too. Sure, her tongue could be vicious, and she had a quiet, sexy confidence that she exuded whenever she waltzed around the office in her smart, business clothes. However, there was nothing physically threatening about her. Just like all women, she was physically inferior, especially to a guy like myself. Even with all of her beauty, I was able to resist her charms, because I didn't function like other guys. That's why a lot of the men in the office envied me, and praised my ability to treat a girl mean and keep her keen. I didn't suck-up and pander to pretty women in the way they did, because I didn't put them on a pedestal like every other guy. But, there was a reason why I was able to do this, and that reason, was my secret.

For most of my life, there was something about me that I didn't overly share with people, and in some ways, I overcompensated for this secret with the way I always acted. I'd been sneaking looks at women's feet for years, even one time managing to catch a glimpse of Eleanor's toes when she'd worn a pair of open, designer heels to a conference. I'd regretted it immediately, wrinkling my nose at the sight of her unkempt and haggard feet. I don't know what I'd been expecting, considering her age, but it was like a curiosity I always needed satisfying whenever I was in close proximity to a woman's visible feet, regardless of who they were. If anything, the fact that Eleanor's feet had been ugly were reassuring, as I'd been able to work with her on a professional level without incident. I showed no interest in Disco Debs, as despite her being okay-looking, she'd thankfully, never, ever taken her shoes off at work. Therefore, I'd always been able to keep my guard up when around her, freely able to belittle her at will, because she wasn't aware of the power she could hold over me. That had been the case for most of the women that had moved through the company over the years. They had all adhered to the expected footwear etiquette, and therefore, I'd never been in trouble.

It was difficult to explain, but women's feet had a pull over me that traced back to my time in high school. Ever since, whenever I'd noticed that girls' feet were on show, I couldn't help but sneak a look. Even if a girl was gorgeous, and everything about her was ten out of ten, I still needed to know that she had good feet before she was a worldie in my eyes. If a girl of supermodel looks had awful feet, it was like she'd suddenly lose her appeal to me and I was able to be cocky and arrogant around her. Some girls found this completely baffling as they were used to constant attention and pandering from every guy. They'd find it mysterious that I didn't seem to care about them, and subsequently pursue me as a result. Whereas a girl with average looks could be bumped up a few notches if I found her feet attractive. This is why, whenever I met a girl, I'd give a subtle glance towards her feet to decide how I was going to treat them. If I didn't get on with their personality, but they had ugly feet, or I never to see them, I'd be able to treat them with the disdain I felt they deserved. However, if they had nice feet, the personality clash became irrelevant, because I was helplessly weak for them.

This was a secret scale in which I constantly rated girls, and was part of the reason that despite their attractiveness, I'd shown little interest in Maya in the months since she'd initially pissed me off. When she'd first been rude to me, I'd just written her off and steered clear from her. I didn't care that she was the younger sister of my ex, as to me, she was just another pretty sight. But that's all she was, and she held little power over me for that reason. As long as she always wore those booties, that is.

I'd always been the alpha guy, the stud, the leader, and the kind of guy that mistreated women from a very young age. The other guys in the office looked on in awe as I'd turn my nose up at the kind of girls they'd beg for. Whereas they'd go out of their way to win a pretty girl's favour, I'd act all nonchalant and brush her off, because I found it embarrassing to publicly chase after a girl and allow her to wrap me around her finger. Even if she was a total beauty, the pride within me wouldn't bow to that. My father had instilled in me to not put the pussy on a pedestal. And even to this day, I didn't...unless they had pretty feet. If they did, well, I was fucking helpless. I simply couldn't control myself around women's feet, and it all traced back to a girl I used to know called Stacey Cleaver. A girl that I ruthlessly bullied and made fun of throughout high school. A girl everyone else barely noticed, who when we were both eighteen and graduating, finally lost her temper and did something to me that changed everything. Something that she probably, to this day, remains blissfully unaware of its significance in my life and how that single moment of her frustration had stuck with forever. Something that had imprinted itself on my pride and sexuality and left me feeling embarrassed and desperate to exert myself constantly as the alpha male I longed to be. Something that had made me completely weak for an arrogant, bratty girl's feet ever since.

That incident with Stacey had laid buried inside me ever since, and at times, it would re-emerge, awakened by a moment that everyone else would consider innocuous: a female removing her shoes. Even as I was trying to resist looking down at Maya's feet, I was afraid for those thoughts to fester, where I would be transported back to that moment with Stacey Cleaver. That single moment in my life when she'd unknowingly proven to me that all of my father's posturing was untrue. That women, were not, in fact, inferior to men. It was my most private and secretive, shameful memory, and only one person in the world knew about it: that being Maya's older sister Piper. Suddenly, Maya's words were ringing in my ears: how her sister had told her something really interesting about me. Something extremely interesting. Had Piper actually told Maya about...Stacey Cleaver?

I gulped, fearing that Maya now knew something about me that she shouldn't. Something that she should have never, ever known. Something she had no right to know, and a power over me she definitely couldn't be trusted to wield. I awkwardly tried to remove myself from the situation before things became more uncomfortable; my thoughts trying to veer to Stacey Cleaver, despite everything inside me screaming to keep calm. "That's...uh...great," I mumbled. "I'm happy you have a good relationship, but I don't really have time to talk right now. I have to prepare for a"--I hesitated, as Stacey Cleaver, with her blonde hair and her mocking grin flashed in my head--"meeting and all." I glanced over Maya's shoulder towards the meeting room, and it was so easy to brush straight past her. All I had to do was keep my eyes up, and I'd be in the clear.

However, before I could step around her, Maya abruptly winked in a taunt-laced manner. "She let me in on a little secret. A secret about you." She lifted her fingers and made a symbol so they were an inch or so apart. "She just told me one itty, bitty piece of info on you." Her eyes flicked to my crotch, and for a second, I flinched, fearful that Piper had been spreading vicious lies about my manhood. However, noting my devastation, Maya giggled and rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't worry, it's not about that, big man. But, something that apparently is going to change everything, huh? She told me about your weakness, Dante." She let that hang in the air for a second, before standing upright, and moving her feet together so they were side by side. "You can look," she said. "Get a real ogle right before your pitch." She cocked her head, before leaning forwards and whispering in my ear, "I even got my nails done. Especially. For. You."

At that moment, my knees gave in, and I stumbled backwards, almost knocking a coat rack over in the process. As I fumbled with it, almost dancing around while it rolled on its base, Maya watched as her body was overcome with hilarity.

"Easy tiger," she chuckled as she patted down her outfit and collected herself. "Geez, look at the state of you."

With that, seemingly satisfied with the damage she'd done, she forcibly shoved the cone of water into my hand. "Here you go, stud, cool off." Her eyes flickered down towards my crotch. "We don't want you scaring the client away with your flag pole."

Instantly, I threw the cone of water all over myself while frantically covering my crotch with my hands. I wasn't actually sporting a freaking erection right there in the hallway, was I? I patted myself down, and I was in the clear, but the fact that Maya had spooked me like that spoke volumes. I was a flustered mess, and while I tried to regather my senses, she strode off. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't resist a sneaky look. However, I was too late, and as she sauntered towards the meeting room, I only caught a snippet of her young, fleshy heels, barely revealed through the straps of a pair of sandals and shrouded somewhat by the flares of her pants.