What Would You Do?

What Would You Do?

What would you do? That question has always intrigued me.

During the Nuremburg trials after the Second World War, a 19-year-old girl was sentenced to prison for being a guard at the gate of the prison at Auschwitz. "I was just a young girl and was told to stand guard or they would shoot me. What would you do, judge?" she pleaded--to no avail.

A number of years back, a few salesmen were standing out front of a retail establishment on a slow summer Friday night. One brought up the question: "What would you do if you caught your wife in bed with another man?"

There being always one joker in any group, an older gentleman who had been married a long time, quipped: "I'd just give him back his white cane and dark glasses, hand him the leash to his seeing-eye dog and help him out the door."

Most of the others had more macho comments like: "I'd beat the shit out of him," or "I'd kill the wife," or "I'd kill the guy." One in particular said, "I'd take the gun I keep in the bureau drawer and shoot them both. I don't care what would happen to me, nobody's gonna take what's mine, and that whore who gave herself to someone else doesn't deserve to live."

As fate would have it, a couple of months later this same man felt sick at work and decided to go home early and lie down, and in doing so caught his wife in bed with another man. He did go to the bureau and take out the gun. But he then went to the closet and took out a duffle bag, put the gun in the bag, took down all his clothes in the closet and put them in the bag; cleaned out the bureau and put the rest of his clothes in the bag. Then calmly walked out of the house and never went back.

So, you see, people don't always do what they say they are going to do when confronted with the actual event.

Many people, over the course of their lives, are forced to make decisions that can seriously alter their lives.

Which brings us to Harry Miller.

Harry is 40 years old, about 5'11" tall, athletically built, handsome, and successful. He has worked for the same company since he graduated from college, and has gradually moved up the executive chain to a fairly large office on the fifth floor, earning a fairly large salary, a 401K and lots of perks. He is well-liked and respected by the employees and his employer.

Harry married Joanna before they even graduated from the same university. Joanna is now a 38-year-old beautiful woman. (As a side note: I believe that the most beautiful age for a woman is between 30 and 40. By 30, if she has taken care of herself physically, she has lost her baby fat or her awkward skinniness, and if she has taken care of herself mentally and emotionally, she has matured into a voluptuous woman who can hold intelligent conversations on many subjects; who is sexually experienced enough, even if with only one man, to know how to satisfy herself and a man in bed.) Joanna is such a woman. She is not movie-star gorgeous, but she is beautiful and sexy and desirable.

Harry loves--passionately loves--Joanna.

Joanna passionately loves Harry.

True, they had each once had an affair outside their marriage. Really not an affair--just a one-night stand. That was back not too long after their son was born. She felt stressed and overworked; he felt deserted and lonely. Ultimately they both decided individually that that was not what they wanted in their marriage and never did it again. They never admitted it to each other, and neither found out about the other, but each spent the rest of their marriage dedicating themselves to each other. Consequently, they now have a life together that many people dream of but very few attain.

There is only one slight irritation for Harry as he drives to work this Monday morning. His secretary of many years had quit the previous week to follow her husband to another city, so he has to interview for a replacement this morning. It is a chore he dislikes doing; he feels it takes away from spending time at the work he really enjoys.

When he exits the elevator on the fifth floor there is a mid-twenties-year-old black man sitting at the desk his secretary used to occupy.

"Can I help you with something?" Harry asks the young man.

The young man rises and holds out his hand. "You must be Harry Miller. My name's Maximillian Jonas. My friends call me Max, but you can call me Mr. Jonas. I'm your new executive assistant."

Harry shakes Max's hand before he realizes what is happening. He pulls his hand back and looks at Max suspiciously.

"But I didn't hire an assistant and I don't need an assistant. I do need a secretary if you'd like to come into my office, I'll interview you for that." And he heads for his office.

Max follows. "No, you don't understand, Old Man. I'm already hired. I'm your executive assistant. And while I assist you you're supposed to teach me everything you know about the business."

"There's no way you would be hired without my prior approval. Who do you think hired you?"

"Mrs. Browne on the fourteenth." Max notices Joanna's picture on Harry's desk. "Say Old Man, is that Mrs. M? Man, I'd sure like to fuck that."

In a fit of rage Harry jumps up and with his left hand grabs Max by the collar while he raises his right fist to strike Max in the face--before he thinks better of it, and pushes Max away.

Max is not intimidated. He is a little taller than Harry, more heavy and muscular, and of course, much younger. "Jeez, calm down, Old Man. Don't get your nuts in an uproar. You should take that as a compliment; that's how I meant it. I've seen women whom I've thought; 'Wow, that's one ugly woman. I wouldn't fuck that with your dick.' No man wants to hear that about his woman. You should be proud of the fact another man finds her so attractive and fuckable. Most men secretly like the idea of another man wanting to fuck their old lady."

"Well, you keep your crude and rude remarks to yourself and get the fuck out of here. I'm going up to see Mrs. Browne and when I get back you better be gone or I'll have security throw your ass out." And he storms out of his office to the elevator. His rage builds more and more as he waits till he punches the elevator door.

On the fourteenth floor he storms past Mrs. Browne's secretary and barges right into her office, screaming: "What the hell is going on? There's some obnoxious son-of-a-bitch down in my office telling me he's my executive assistant and that you hired him."

Mrs. Browne is a wizened, thin, black lady in her sixties. She looks frail but she is as tough as they come. She knows everything that goes on in the company and rules it like a queen. And the employees treat her like a queen. She and her family built the company from scratch when she was a young woman and it is now a powerhouse in the county and even the state. Her family owns all the stock and she is the main stock-holder.

"Thanks for knocking and waiting to be asked to enter, Harry," she states sarcastically. "How did you know I wasn't having a meeting or something in here? I see you've met Max."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Browne. I don't mean to show disrespect but that clown has really pissed me off. I just met him and first thing he tells me he wants to fuck my wife."

"Settle down, Harry. I'd offer you a drink but it's too early in the day. How about a coffee or water or something?

"No, Thanks. I'm fine."

"Yes. Max can be crude and rude. That's why I sent him to you."

"But why? Why him? Why me?"

She moves her chair next to Harry's and speaks to him as though they are really close friends. "Why him? He graduated with an MBA from Harvard--3^rd in his class. He's brilliant. Everyone who knows him says so."

"But there are plenty of MBAs out there who aren't such son-of-a-bitches. Why him?"

"Well, because he's my sister's son--my nephew. The family has decided he's been sowing his wild oats long enough and he should start learning the family business. You should really learn to get along with him. He is a large shareholder in the company and someday, when I retire or keel over, he'll probably be sitting in my chair. So you probably wouldn't want him as an enemy.""

"Okay, I see. But why me? Couldn't you stick him with someone else?"

"Harry, you've been with us a long time and we all, the whole family, know you have been especially instrumental in our success. You know all the ins and outs of the business and you keep us out of legal trouble. You have a way of keeping the bad clients placated and staying with us and of promoting enthusiasm about us in our good clients so that they keep recommending more business to us. We love you and trust you and all feel you are the best one to smooth over Max's rough spots. We want you to teach him how to read these different clients, what makes them tick, how to best handle their needs. We believe you can give him the couth and sophistication he lacks. In short, we want you to teach him to handle our business the way you do."

"Okay, you've buttered me up pretty good there. But why just spring him on me. Why couldn't you have at least discussed it with me first?"

"I'm sorry we did that to you, Harry. The family just had a meeting over the weekend, and we decided we wanted to do it right away, without delay. I've never asked you to do something out of the ordinary before, but I'm asking you, as a special favor, to do this for me. And we realize this is going to be a difficult assignment for you, but if you get what we want accomplished there will probably be a promotion and a raise in the offing."

"Mrs. B, even though you did it very subtly, you needn't use the carrot and stick argument with me. You know I'll do whatever you ask. So count me in."

"Thanks Harry. And just so you know, we have told him that you are in charge; that he's to listen to whatever you say and do whatever you ask. So even though he may be crude at first, he will do as he's told."

*

Harry doesn't go directly back down to the fifth floor. He leaves the building and walks around the block, steeling himself for the coming ordeal.

When he gets back to his office, Max is sitting with his head back on the couch just staring at the ceiling, humming to himself.

"Are we cool now, Old Man?" he greets Harry.

"We're cool. But there are a couple of rules to start off."

"Hit me. What are they?"

"First of all, you will call me Mr. Miller, especially in front of clients or employees. When you get in an executive position you will expect respect, and to get respect you must show respect."

"Okay, got it. What else?"

"Most important, you will keep any and all sexual or political or racial remarks to yourself. We don't need any lawsuits or harassment charges from anyone, and you never know what remark is picked up and spread, even though you didn't intend for them to even hear it. So keep them to yourself."

"Okay, I'll try."

"This is not a try situation. There is no room for even one mistake. Just do it."

"Okay, Mr. Miller. You got it. How's that?"

"Fine. Now let's get to work."

*

The first thing Harry does when gets home that evening is fix himself a drink and collapse on the couch.

Joanna walks in and sees how dejected he is. "Well, you're not very cheerful tonight. Bad day at the office?"

"Yeah, well, it started that way, anyway. It ended up not too bad, but I'm still trying to settle my nerves about the way it started."

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

So Harry tells her the whole story. "What a crude and rude son-of-a-bitch. Are you going to be able to get through it okay?" She does, though, feel a little bump of pride on hearing the part of this young man wanting to fuck her.

*

On a Thursday evening a month later, after they have a pleasant meal and sit down to watch some TV, Harry reaches over and takes Joanna's hand, "You know I'm really starting to feel good about this whole thing with Max. I think it is going to work out just fine. How about I take a cab to work tomorrow and you meet me after work at that bar across the street from the office, and Ill take you out to dinner. We haven't had a date night in a while. What do you say?"

"I noticed you've been in a much better mood lately. I'm glad for you." And she snuggles up next to him and kisses him, "And I'd love to go on a date with my loving husband. I'll take a cab to meet you, then we can take a cab home and won't have to worry about how much we drink."

*

Joanna is at the bar the next evening just a little before Harry and already has had one drink when he walks in and sits next to her. He orders himself a drink and one for Joanna. They are discussing where they want to go to dinner when Harry stops mid-conversation, stares at the door. "Oh shit!" he says.

"What's the matter?"

"Max and some girl just walked in."

"Max? Is that the young man you're training?"

"Yeah. I was hoping you wouldn't have to meet him."

The girl Max is with is young, maybe 23 or 24, blue-eyed, blonde, and she's drop-dead gorgeous; and both Harry and Joanna notice, braless. When Max notices Harry at the bar, he stops and whispers in the girl's ear, then proceeds to the bar. He slaps Harry on the back. "How ya doin' Old Man? Out slummin' are ya? And this must be Mrs. M."

He then reaches over to kiss Joanna on the cheek and whispers in her ear, "I would like to fuck you even more now that I see you in person than I did looking at your picture."

Joanna blushes and quickly pulls away. "You are just as crude and rude as my husband said you were. Don't you dare talk to me like that ever again, young man."

"What's going on?" Harry asks.

"I'll tell you later. Let's get out of here," Joanna tells Harry.

"Wait a minute," Max exclaims. "Don't run off. Let me buy you a drink." Then he looks at Joanna directly. "As I told your old man when I first saw your picture, I meant it as a compliment; I'm sorry if you took it the wrong way. Please stay and let me buy you guys a drink."

Harry says, "That's okay. We were just on our way to get some dinner."

"Where are you going?" Max asks.

"We hadn't decided yet. We don't have reservations anywhere," Harry responds.

"Well then, let me take care of that. Let me make it up to you guys. I'll buy you guys dinner. How about 'The Vault'; they have great steaks and prime rib. Connie can drive us. Oh, I'm sorry. Where are my manners. I forgot to introduce you, This is my very good friend Connie. Connie, this is the man I work with, Harry Miller, and his wife Mrs. M.

"Joanna is my name," as she reaches her hand out to shake Connie's. Then handshakes all around.

"It's Friday night and as we said we don't have reservations. There's no way we can get in there, Harry states.

"Don't worry about it," Max responds. "I'll get us in. Please let me do this."

They all finally agree. Max pays the bartender and they follow Connie out to her car. Harry and Joanna climb in the back seat and they drive to the restaurant with very cursory conversation.

They leave the car at the valet and walk inside, where Max seeks out the Maître D. They have a conversation and shake hands and the four are escorted to a table. Max turns out to be a great story-teller and conversationalist and is quite entertaining and gracious when he wants to be. Both Harry and Joanna are surprised and are having a good time.

After dinner they all move to the bar. Except for Connie, who doesn't seem to be drinking, they have each had a couple of drinks at dinner and after a couple more at the bar, Connie seems to get overly interested in Harry. She moves over and stands next to him, puts her hand on his thigh and speaks in a low tone. "You are quite the handsome man, Harry. But I guess you already know that. I bet you have plenty of girlfriends on the side, don't you?"

Harry feels her breasts and nipples up against his arm, blushes and stammers. "Of course not, I'm a happily married man. And you know my wife is sitting right there."

Connie suddenly looks at her watch and blurts out: "Oh, I'm sorry guys. I didn't realize it's so late. I hate to do this to you, but I've got to run. There's someplace I've got to be right now. You're going to have to take a cab or Uber or something."

Before she leaves, though, she reaches over and kisses Harry, a sexy kiss in which she inserts her tongue, and at the same time, reaches down and caresses his crotch.

Harry is stunned and embarrassed but finally is able to pull away and remove her hand. She says, "If you ever want to get together, Harry, Max knows how to get a hold of me." And she hurries out the door.

Joanna watches what is going on in stunned silence. Her face is red and she is glaring at Harry. He reaches over and takes her hand. "Boy, that took me by complete surprise. Please don't be angry. I really had nothing to do with it."

"Okay," she says, but she doesn't have much to say after that. She pulls out her cell and calls for a Uber.

Max again pays the bill and they all go outside to wait for the Uber. Max asks if they would mind dropping him off before going on their way and Harry agrees. When the Uber pulls up, Harry opens the back door for Joanna and she climbs in and moves toward the other side of the car. But before she can move all the way over Max rushes to the other side of the car and jumps in. That leaves Joanna sitting between Harry and Max, crammed in the small Honda shoulder to shoulder. There is not much conversation between them on the way.

When they reach Max's building he reaches for the door handle and starts to open the door, but then, suddenly he stops, turns quickly, grabs Joanna and kisses her--passionately--lips slightly open, tongue probing. At the same time his left had strokes her breast, then moves down her body and caresses her pussy.

Harry is awestruck and stunned, unable to move. Joanna, at first, is the same. But when his tongue hits her lips her body is struck with an electric shock. She feels a tingle in her groin and her heart starts beating faster. She comes to her senses and tries to push him away but he is too strong.

Just as quickly as it began it is over. Max pulls away and opens the door and exits. Once outside he sticks his head back in the door and says to Harry, "Now we're even, Old Man for what you and my girlfriend did." And he walks away.

Joanna moves over on the seat close to the left door, leaving a wide gap between her and Harry. They don't speak.

Finally Harry says angrily, "I can't believe you let him do that. What's wrong with you?"

Just as angrily Joanna responds: "I didn't let him do anything. He overwhelmed me. I tried to push him away but he was too strong. Besides what about you and Connie?"

"I didn't kiss her, she kissed me. And I put a stop to it."

"Not right away. You hesitated a little. You looked like you were thinking about letting it continue. You liked it, didn't you? And you didn't take your eyes off her chest all night."

"Yeah, well what about you? You looked like you were enjoying it too. And he pulled away from you, you didn't pull away from him."

"I told you I was trying. He was too strong for me."

They don't talk the rest of the way home. When they get home they undress and each sleeps on the opposite side of the king-size bed.

By the next day, though, they have forgiven each other and things slowly get back to normal. By Saturday night they are in each others arms and making passionate love. By Sunday they are acting like newlyweds to each other. They have ostensibly forgotten the indiscretions with Max and Connie.

But they really haven't forgotten. Harry can't get it out of his mind, and Monday and Tuesday at work he is short-tempered and curt and uncommunicative, especially with Max. Max, on the other hand, is cordial and jovial and acts like nothing is changed.