The world is turned upside down. My boss was arrested this afternoon for the murder of Grace Clayton. That was FASTFILLY. Apparently she didn’t disappear into the ether. She disappeared into the Hudson. I don’t know what to believe, and I’m worried I might become a suspect by proximity.
Anonymity is a myth. Eeven the smallest actionshaveconsequences so perhaps one e-mail account is simpler after all…
The boss’ wife is becoming quite adept at surfing the web and has found this blog. Mia, I am publicly begging you to show forgiveness.
Nothing is as it seems.
This is so not my day. It seems as though I missed my chance with my dream girl. While I was having dinner with his wife, the boss moved in on Katherine. I couldn’t believe she would be that easy, but this morning I saw his Beemer pull up to work, and I watched her get out of his car. I suppose he could have picked her up for work, but much more likely they spent the night. Together. Bastard. He knew I wanted her. I guess the good news is, maybe now he’ll be less interested in Veronica, which will make the wife happy, and my secret safe.
Maybe it’s time I focus in on Luisa. Being free range isn’t that fun when you’re in competition with someone like him.
There should be a manual for how to handle the boss’s wife. I try to massage her every once in a while, reassure her of his love in a way that’s neither obvious nor over the top. So imagine my disappointment when she insists I have dinner with her on the very night I was supposed to see Katherine, my temp crush. But since her request was more demand than invite, I accepted and prepared myself for a frustrating evening spent again reassuring her of her position. But, it turns out that the dinner was less about her than it was about me.
She thinks I haven’t been straight with her. I haven’t given her the truth. I told her that the truth is irrelevant. All she needs to know is what she knows, not what she doesn’t. She just smiled and said if I didn’t come straight with her right now, she’d reveal something that she knows about me. Something I told her in a weak moment. Something I don’t want anyone to know. (And, no, sorry folks I’m not revealing it to anyone else.) It’s blackmail. But, she’s a woman obsessed. Maniacal. Following him, apparently. Even online.
I asked her how she got so computer savvy. Apparently she knew enough to create her own blog and an e-mail account, NEED2NO@iol-mail.com. From there she met someone who helped her get on her husband’s e-mail. And that gave her full access to his perfect world full of perfect strangers. She even knew about FastFilly and how FastFilly had stalked her at her gallery. She said, at one point, she’d even had sex with FastFilly disguised as her husband. That was twisted enough to get my attention. What a vindictive sneaky cow.
I was completely turned on and began to see her in a different light, that is, until she asked me to get rid of Veronica. As if I could…as if I wanted to…It’s funny how both she and her husband expect me to handle all of their problems.
I’ve never been in competition with the boss. But I’m watching him move in on my Katherine, and I’m having feelings I might regret. I told him I thought she’d be more interested in me than in him. I figured that way I could stake a claim. He laughed and said he could change her. Conceited prick. I’m trying to distract him by having him focus on another girl who’s contacted him online. Don’t worry, she’s no FASTFILLY. She used to temp here. Her name’s Veronica.
She’s definitely got his curiosity up. Divine intervention. He asked me what I remembered about her, and I built her up as sexy, hot, smart, kinky—all the things he loves. Little does he know that she was more mall trash than trashy lingerie. But right now she’s turning him on enough, so I might just get my shot with Katherine. I’m asking her out tonight. Wish me luck!
We had the party for the lingerie client last night, and as I predicted Bethany, the too young for her own good account manager, made a scene. The wife noticed causing the mistress’s shelf life to expire. He’s done with her. Stupid bimbo. They all think they’re the one until he’s over them. And then it’s bye, bye Miss Account Manger.
Meanwhile, guess who had to manage the wife? She doesn’t miss a trick. I explained that the account manager was unhappy that the boss didn’t thank her in his speech. “She has such a sense of entitlement,” I said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he let her go.” And I wouldn’t. The wife bought it. I’m a quick thinker, but unfortunately, not quick enough to spend time with Katherine, who was giving out gift bags at the door. I find myself fantasizing about her 24/7. I’ve been making all of these deals with the universe. "Give me Katherine and I’ll do anything you want.”
So much has happened since my last entry. First and foremost, the FastFilly freak, Grace, disappeared. She melted into the ether somewhere. Not sure how the boss managed it, but let’s just say I’m glad I didn’t have to. What else? What else? Oh, Luisa’s dating someone. Another artist. She says it’s not love. But they do share an e-mail. I could cry if it wasn’t so retarded. Who breaks up with someone over an e-mail account, and falls in love with another person who agrees to share one?! Hopefully they have more in common than a shared address. But I’m not that worried about it. I’m fairly certain that I could get her back. If I wanted to. But I don’t. Not now.
I’ve got my eye on someone at work. Katherine, a GORGEOUS new temp and I are having some serious non-verbal foreplay. To say she’s beautiful is beyond an understatement. Naturally, the boss is watching her as well. Who wouldn’t? Esmerelda (the boss’ secretary) doesn’t trust her. She thinks she could be a spy for K+B, but I don’t care what she is. I love looking at her…more later.
FASTFILLY’s out of her mind. She sent a dozen e-mails, even threatened to go to the newspapers. And, as if that’s not bad enough, she showed up at my boss’apartment building, and HAND DELIVERED this note to his doorman; “I know your wife’s away, meet with me now, or I’ll meet with her later.” He’s enraged, naturally. Feels stalked. Violated. I told him to call the police. He just looked at me and said, “Get rid of her.” Right! It’s enough I have to “handle” his clingy mistress, but this girl’s certifiable. He needs to bring me in sooner, or be a bit more discriminating when he strays, because at this point it’s way too late for me to step in. He’s going to have to deal with Grace personally. I’ll keep you posted.
That girl the boss met online is a freak. What a nightmare! I accidentally e-mailed her from my personal account and now she’s sending me spam and posting my screenname all over the place. As a warning to all those prowling the net her name is, FASTFILLY413@iol-mail.com. Avoid her at all costs! I think someone should start a site “AMERICA’S MOST UNWANTED”! I’m not kidding. We should warn each other who to avoid. Those kind of people should NOT be anonymous. Therefore, allow me to fill you in.
Her name is Grace and she’s a small time model from Philadelphia. They met during one of his monthly Q&A’s. She asked him some inane question, and it went from there. She sent pictures…I’m sure he sent a few, and so on until one day she showed up IN PERSON at a political fund raiser. The wife was there too. Apparently, the boss showed Grace out of the building. From reading her blog he showed her a few other things as well. Then, of course, because he’s a DOG, he invited her up for a few more weekends.
This was a few weeks ago. Now she’s talking about moving here. She even intimated that she’d gone to his wife’s gallery. Can you imagine? Of course he cut her off. Cold. The only problem is that when you give someone an all access pass, and then you shut the VIP door in their face, they can get a little, oh let’s just say…angry.
Someone e-mailed me wanting to know what my “ job” is. You could say that I’m a juggler. There are women within my boss’s circle who each want to be reassured that they’re the only ones within that circle. So when the mistress asks if I’ve ever seen him this happy, I tell her, “no.” And she believes me. And when his wife calls to make sure that the new account manager (a/k/a his mistress) isn’t getting too close, I tell her she isn’t. And she believes me, too.
But my loyalty is to only one person, and my job is to make his life easier. So if lying to the wife or buttering up the mistress helps him, then I’ve done it well.
There is a potential storm on the horizon… the Valentine’s Day party that my agency is hosting next month for one of our clients – a global lingerie brand. The wife naturally will be there, and the mistress, who is the account manager for the lingerie company, will be there as well. It could get tricky if the mistress wants to prove something. And she’s young enough to be that stupid. I have to be on my toes because if the wife finds out that the account manager IS the mistress then she and her money are out the door… and my ass is going to pay.
If that’s not enough, apparently my boss has met someone else online. I warned him it’s not a good idea, but he told me I was beginning to sound paranoid like Luisa. I’m beginning to think Luisa was right in her paranoia. Especially since this new online fling keeps calling the office excessively. I’m sure I’ll have to handle this one, too.
WOW! There are a lot of you out there! Anonymous friends, or as my boss says “perfect strangers”. He calls the internet the moral compass; a place that shrouds you in anonymity, allowing for complete honesty. He's a smart man. He thinks we only lie when we fear judgment. Maybe he’s right. The only perfect stranger is one who listens without bias and responds without consequence.
He’s a powerful advertising executive with a brilliant mind and a ruthless ambition that makes me utterly devoted and sometimes contemplative of what it would be like to have him. That’s actually Luisa’s biggest fear; that I’d jump the fence with the boss. Her last girlfriend left her for a guy. In reality, she has nothing to worry about. I know that the boss’ conquests have a short shelf life. I’d rather tantalize him with stories of Sapphic love and leave the bedding down to his wife, mistresses and assorted others who cling to him.
He depends on me and I like it. He calls me his walking hard drive so he never forgets a name, a company, an idea. I’m in every meeting, on every phone call. Sometimes he needs to be reminded of what he said, and other times, he doesn’t want to be reminded of anything. He expects me to know the difference. Because with someone that powerful one mistake means you might not get the chance to make another.
I’m frustrated. My technophobe live-in girlfriend, Luisa, thinks I’m hiding something. We have been sharing a computer and have been using the same email account. But she recently found out I set up a new gmail account for myself. I’ve explained that wanting privacy is different than having secrets. But not to her.
Last night she gave me an ultimatum: either share an e-mail or lose a girlfriend. I chose the latter. It actually sounds more dramatic than it is. We break up once a month. Gives us license to roam. Now I’m free range with a new account, and this blog to match. Our breaks never last more than a few weeks, so I’m taking full advantage. The name’s Josie. My e-mail is SAMESAME@iol-mail.com. Contact me if you’d like to chat. But do so knowing that since I will get back with Luisa, time is of the essence!
