Luscious Cones

"I don't need the extra hour of pay that bad. I'd rather just go wait outside," she mustered the courage to put the words out there, however quietly they may have come out.

"I'll give you the club rate, cash," he winked again, reclining back in his chair. She stood there, not knowing what to do. On principle, she didn't want to cross this line of making the choice to suck dick for money. It felt humiliating and it would be something he'd be able to hold over her later. "You're thinking about it now, aren't you? Cause it wouldn't be so bad, right?"

She shook her head. She would only do it if he forced her, she decided. Never if she had a choice.

"In that case," the smile faded from his face and it was as if he was in her brain and could read her thoughts, "I need you to stay an extra hour, I have a task here that needs to be completed and you can't leave until it is." She stayed rooted in her place, in the doorway, not moving. "Close the door."

"I really just want to leave," she squeaked out.

"I don't really care what you want," Bill snapped. "I need you to do your job and not argue with me, Charlotte! Close the fucking door!"

She closed the door. He hadn't yelled at her this way since the first time he wanted to fuck her and she tried to refuse. She was sure the girls out front had heard this with the door open. She lowered herself to the floor in front of Bill and unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock through the fly. She worked it with her usual intensity, using her hand in combination with her mouth, sucking hard and deep to get him to come as quickly as possible. He watched her, his face stern. He reached down and played with her breasts as she finished off the job, swallowing expertly around his pulsing cock. She pulled away, standing up and pulling her tank top back up over her breasts.

"Can I go now?" She asked him, looking down at the floor.

"Yeah, go," he replied curtly.

She didn't want to look at the faces of the girls working the front when she came out from Bill's office, but the face that caught her attention was John's who was sitting at one of the tables in the shop, his head resting in his hand, looking right at her over the counter.

"What are you doing here?" Her brows came together, scanning over him. He was in a dark suit with a white shirt and a loosened tie around his neck. His hair was neatly parted and combed. He was always in shorts, a t-shirt, and a baseball hat whenever he was hanging out with Chase and it seemed so incredibly out of place, seeing him here like this.

"Chase asked me if I could give you a ride home from work cause he's running late," John explained standing up, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Oh, thanks..." Charlie was taken aback. She came around the counter, shifting her purse from her hand to her shoulder. "Were you waiting long?"

"A bit," he replied. There was worry and concern in his face and Charlie felt the lump jump up into her throat as he held the door open for her. Was it because he heard Bill yelling at her?

John opened the passenger door for her and waited while Charlie got in before he closed it and came around to the driver's side. He didn't say anything until after they had pulled out of the parking lot and were cruising down the road towards Chase's apartment.

"Something's not right at that place where you work," John started in. God, there were a lot of things that weren't right, Charlie thought to herself, but it wasn't anything she could discuss with him. "Your boss shouldn't talk to you that way. What did he need you to do that badly that the other three employees out front couldn't do?" Charlie tried to think fast on her feet, to come up with something, but her mind was blank. John glanced at her before returning his eyes to the road.

"Umm... it's... I can't discuss things that are done in the back of the shop," she said softly. John narrowed his eyes, frowning, giving her a quick look again.

"What do you mean?"

"I... well..." she stammered. "There's this non-disclosure agreement that he had me sign and I would get into trouble if I said anything." John was clearly confused, he scratched his head, his forehead still creased. When they stopped at the next light, he turned and looked her over carefully, as if trying to read something in her eyes. "It's like this contract that says that I can't talk about anything that happens in the back of the shop."

"Charlie, I know what a non-disclosure agreement is, I work at a law firm and have two years of law school under my belt," he wasn't condescending in the way he said it, but her breath caught in her chest. She stared back at him with wide eyes. "Do YOU know that those contracts don't cover anything illegal?" John kept eye contact with her, gauging her reaction. The car behind him honked as the light changed to green and John switched his gaze back to the road.

"No," she shook her head.

"Like it's fine if he doesn't want you sharing his proprietary recipes with anyone, that makes sense, but if something is happening in that shop that would be illegal if it were to take place outside of it, you can speak up. You wouldn't be in breach of contract if you were to report on someone being... abusive." He glanced at her again to see how she'd react. Charlie suddenly felt naive and stupid. John had always been so smart and had his shit together and she would believe what he was saying over Bill any day. "Was what your boss needed you to do something... specific to running that shop that non-employees shouldn't have knowledge of? Like... placing an order for ingredients or doing inventory or something?" John shrugged. "I don't know what else you'd do in the back office of an ice cream parlor." Charlie stayed quiet. John swung his head over to look at her again, she bit her lip, staring ahead through the front windshield. "Charlie, what happened?" His voice was soft, worried. She blinked and tears poured out down her cheeks at the thought of admitting it all to John and how dumb she felt for being duped into it. He was pulling off the road, onto the grassy shoulder, and putting on the hazard lights. "Charlie, what happened?" John repeated reaching his arm out to wrap around her shoulders.

It all came out in a gush of tears and verbal diarrhea. She told him about her uniform infractions and the spanking, about Bill's demands for blowjobs and sex, about the fact that he was likely doing this to all of the girls who worked there, not just her. Her suspicion that Bill's dad and uncle, who were also owners of this shop, didn't know about what he was doing. The only thing she had omitted was the night at the sex club, as she focused on the things that had gone on in the shop. John listened to everything she said carefully and then offered his help. He assured her that none of this was covered under the confidentiality agreement she signed and she could most definitely file a police report against Bill and start an investigation into all this. He also suggested that this sort of employee abuse could be grounds for her breaking the contract she signed for the entire season without having to pay the penalty for early termination.

He put the car back in drive, driving the rest of the way back to Chase's apartment, all the way discussing what he thought she should do and how he thought he could help.

The following morning, shortly after the shop opened, Charlie saw John's car pulling into the parking lot and felt a bolt of nervous energy firing through her. Did she do the right thing? Should she have just stayed quiet? Would the other girls be on her side in this, or think that she was a bitch for reporting Bill? She was suddenly doubting everything that they had discussed last night and again this morning at John's dad's law offices where he was working over the summer. Would Bill decide to use the fact that she had been turned on against her? Would he claim that she was into it and what they had done had been consensual?

She stood off to the side, in the back, when John walked in along with another man, dressed in a crisp suit, shirt, and tie, his posture confident and slightly intimidating. The other man, Derek, was a junior associate lawyer at the firm who'd be able to dedicate a bit of time to this situation pro-bono. John came right up to the counter where Debbie greeted him with a smile and asked to see the owner. Bill wasn't in yet, but Lester came out of the backroom wiping his hands on a dishtowel with a displeased look on his face.

"Good morning, sir. I'm with the law firm Bradford, Mason, and Associates. My name is John Bradford, this is Derek Esser," he gestured to the other man, "and we wanted to speak to you about some accusation of employer misconduct reported against co-owner Bill Rainer," John delivered his line. This wasn't the usual modus operandi, John and Derik had explained that to her, but Charlie had filed a police report against Bill that morning and they were going to try a private conversation with Lester to get Bill out of direct contact with the employees immediately.

"Fucking Bill," the words came out of Lester's mouth in an angry breath. "That fucking kid is going to cost me this shop, isn't he?"

"Can we discuss this privately?" Derek spoke up.

Lester ushered them to the back office and they stayed in there for a long time. The girls at the front of the shop could hear their voices, but they weren't loud enough to actually decipher what they were saying.

"Someone reported Bill?" Debbie's eyes were wide, her face seemingly gleeful. Charlie didn't say anything, biting her lip.

A pair of customers came in then who needed to be helped and then there was a bit of a lunchtime rush where people came in quick succession, one after the other, although no true line had the time to form. Charlie was busy scooping ice cream into cones when Bill stormed in through the door. She looked up just in time to see him shoot an angry look in her direction before walking right to the office. She tried to focus on helping the customers even though her heart was hammering in her throat. There was a lot of shouting coming from the office, none of which she could decipher. There was a pair of young guys waiting on their sundaes at the counter when the office door crashed open and Lester shoved Bill out. He had a baseball bat in his other hand and Bill backed away from him through the back area towards the front.

"Get the fuck out of here and don't you dare show your face here again," Lester spoke through his teeth, brandishing the bat at Bill.

"Dad," Bill held his hands out in front of him defensively, backing away. "Don't make a scene."

"I will NOT be associated with your criminal shit! I did not build this business for you to fuck it all up," Lester continued to advance at him, jabbing the end of the bat into Bill's chest. Bill grunted at the impact while everyone in the shop stood and stared.

"Dad," he tried to protest again, his back already at the door.

"Get the hell outta here," Lester jabbed him again.

"Fine," Bill swung the door open. "I don't need this," he shot glare out across the counter toward Charlie, then back to his dad, before he walked out, stalking angrily to his car.

"I apologize for that," Lester swung his gaze towards the customers. "Whatever you had ordered," he waved a hand, "it's on the house." Lester went back into his office where John and Derek were still waiting for him and Debbie added a little extra whipped cream to each of the sundaes before sliding them across the counter to the customers with a huge smile on her face.

"This is the happiest day of my summer," she told Charlie after the guys walked out of the shop. Charlie was still too filled with anxiety to agree, but this was probably hers too.