One Weekend with the Billionaire Chapter 12

*Braxton*

Jeff Thompson rushes into my office like a child hurrying in to see the principal before he gets in bigger trouble for acting out in class. It’s too late for Thompson to change his behavior now to avoid punishment, but then, what I have in mind gets him off of the hook for all of his mistakes anyway, assuming he goes along with it, assuming his wife does not decline. If that’s the case, he’s in bigger trouble than he knows.

“Mr. Merriweather, sir,” he says, offering me his hand. “I’m so sorry I’m running behind. The company car you sent was caught in traffic.”

I arch an eyebrow at him. Does he really think I’m not aware that the reason he is late is because he didn’t even get into the car until a few minutes before he was meant to be here? I will not have that discussion with him, though. “Have a seat, Thompson,” I tell him, declining to shake his hand as I can’t force myself to do so at the moment.

He drops his hand, drags it along his suit pants like there’s something wrong with it, and sits down across from my desk. I make my way behind it and sit in a chair that exaggerates our height difference. “You’ve worked here for about three years now, haven’t you Thompson?” I ask him.

“Thereabouts,” he agrees with a nod. I know exactly how long he has worked here, but I'm wagering he doesn’t.

“And do you like your job?”

“Very much so,” Thompson says with a sharp nod. “Best job I could ever hope for.”

I imagine it is, considering how much non-work he does while he is on the clock. I study him for a moment, wondering how much of that to tell him I know about. I keep those cards close to me for now. “How do you feel your job performance has been lately?”

“I think I’m doing pretty well,” he says. “We got that new account yesterday.”

“Do you really think you can take any credit for that?” I ask him. “My understanding is that negotiations were not going very well until after you were taken out of the loop.”

He frowns, like maybe he thought I didn’t know that. “Well… I’ve been working on it for months. Then, there’s the Green account.”

“I thought Todd Hughly was leading that up.”

“Yes, but Todd and I speak often,” Thompson says, as if he has anything to do with the large account Todd is assigned to.

I think about the accounts he’s lost recently. “What about Brown? Trenning? Waterton?”

Thompson makes a face. “Those were unfortunate situations,” he stammers. “I thought I had more assistance from team members than I actually did.”

“So you’re saying others let you down?” I clarify.

Thompson nods. “Yes. It was a shame we lost them, but… there wasn’t much I could do about any of them. In the future--”

I stop him right there with a raised hand and a look that tells him that’s enough. “I do want to talk about your future, Thompson, but probably not in the context you’re about to mention.”

His face melts into a frown. “What’s that, sir?”

I clear my throat and change the subject. “Do you remember the conversation we had last night--about Julia.”

“Julia?” He repeats the word like his wife’s name is foreign to him. “What account is that?”

“It’s not an account, Thompson.” I am annoyed with him, and it’s coming out in my tone. “Your wife. Julia.”

“Oh! My wife?” He is confused. I can’t blame him. Everything I’m about to tell him will be confusing until he accepts it. “At the party?”

“Yes. I told you not to take your anger out on her, and yet, when you got home last night, you screamed at her and hit her.”

“Hit her?” Thompson seems mortified. “I would never--”

“She has a mark on her face, Thompson!” I will not listen to his lies. “Don’t try to deny it.”

He shakes his head, not owning up. “Julia is very clumsy,” he says. “She’s always running into things.”

“Like the back of your hand? Thompson, I’m going to need you to stop fucking around with me or else you’re going to end out on the street on your ass. Do I make myself clear, or do I need to restate that?” I am at the end of my patience with him. I can tell by his wide eyes that he gets it now.

Thompson nods. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t remember what happened last night. I had a little too much to drink.”

“Finally, the truth about something,” I mutter under my breath. “I’m not going to beat around the bush with you, Thompson. The fact of the matter is, your job performance has never been stellar, but lately, it’s been falling well short of the mark. I know you’re spending a great deal of your time on the clock doing things that are not work related. I have enough evidence to fire you right now on the spot based on any one of those things.”

Thompson’s mouth drops open, and he gapes at me for a long time. “Sir…” he finally says, “please… give me another chance.”

“I could give you all of the chances in the world to redeem yourself at Merriweather and Associates,” I tell him, “and you wouldn’t be able to do it. So… instead, I have another offer for you, something that is as un-work related as the pornographic videos you spend hours watching utilizing the company Wi-Fi.”

Thompson’s face starts to turn red as he says, “I never do that, sir.”

“Bullshit,” I say, fingering the folder on my desk. “I have a stack of paper that proves otherwise. That’s really not the point, though, Thompson because I have a way for you to redeem yourself, at least, if your wife agrees to it.”

“My wife?” Thompson asks, confused. “What does any of this have to do with Julia?”

I take a deep breath and blow it out. I am not ashamed of what I am about to propose to him, but I know how it sounds, and I’m not sure how he will react. “I noticed your wife at the Christmas party, Thompson. She’s a beautiful woman. I wanted her there last night so I could remind myself of that, but it wasn’t really necessary since I’ve been thinking about her ever since December.”

He doesn’t know what to say, and I can’t blame him. He may treat his wife like garbage, like she’s hideous and needs to stay hidden away, but that’s only because, deep down, he knows she’s gorgeous. “What is it you want?” he asks me, speaking slowly, his tone low.

“I want your wife for the weekend,” I say to him in a no nonsense tone. “If she’ll have me. If she says yes and comes out to my house away from the city for the weekend and consents to anything and everything I ask of her--on her own accord--then you’ll be able to continue working here, and I won’t say another word to you about your performance. Ever.”

“And if she says no?” Thompson asks, his words measured.

“We’ll talk about that after the fact,” I say with a shrug. “The real problem for you comes if you say no.”

He arches an eyebrow at me, but does not speak.

“If you say no, well, then, you’re fired.” It is as simple as that.

He nods his understanding, and I think I see a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I’m not sure what it is you see in her, sir. Perhaps it’s because you do not know her well. Sure, she’s a beautiful woman, but she has lots of problems. You might not be able to pick those out at a Christmas party or even over a weekend, but I think you’ll see quickly enough, if you intend to continue this affair, that Julia isn’t as lovely as you think she is.”

I narrow my eyes at him, thinking he just doesn’t know what he has. He is taking her for granted. I have no idea what my intentions are beyond the weekend. I will have to figure that out later. “What are you saying, Jeff? Yes--or no.”

He smiles at me. “Sure. You can have her for the weekend. You should probably know that she’s never been with any man other than me. Sleeping with her is about as exciting as jerking off to the dryer, watching the clothes chase each other around. She’s condescending and will make you feel like nothing you do is ever good enough. But she does have a tight pussy and will do whatever you tell her to in bed--if you can get her to say yes. I’m not sure she will.”

“She’s got to know that there will be absolutely no punishment from you if she does,” I tell him. “That would absolutely cost you your job, and just like I told you last night, which you apparently didn’t believe, I will find out.”

He nods in understanding. The trace of a smile lets me know that he thinks he’s getting away with a bargain, at least for now. Maybe by Monday, when he realizes I’ve been fucking his wife all weekend, he’ll change his mind.

Thompson extends his hand first. “You’ve got a deal,” he says.

This time, I shake it.