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Billie Thompson - Headhunter |
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By Nigel McParr
Billie Thompson was sitting with her long legs crossed in a sumptuous leather chair in a corner office on the 87th floor of the John Hancock building. The glassed floor to ceiling walls afforded a spectacular view of Lake Michigan and Chicago’s skyline. She had been in the MIS Systems corner office many times before - MIS was her largest client - but she never failed to enjoy the awesome view. MIS Systems CEO Derek Hallstrom sat facing her from behind an expanse of rare and expensive polished wood. He was the epitome of the slightly graying hard-edged eastern transplants who’d been brought to Chicago to put its businesses on the map. Billie wondered how many Brazilian rosewood trees had died to pay homage to his massive ego. He was looking at her over tented fingers, ostensibly thinking about the issue in front of them. Billie of course knew better. The man was doing nothing but looking at her boobs and exposed legs. “Billie,” he murmured, swiveling his chair and gazing out into the hazy azure sky. “It’s a curious name. If you’ll pardon my asking, how did you come by it?” God, what an insufferable male ego, Billie thought, while carefully maintaining her professional smile. She watched him unblinking as he deliberately lowered his gaze to her too full breasts, which were plumped now in her lap and showing more cleavage now than she would have liked. She shrugged. “It’s short for Wilhelmina. My parents are Swedish.” “Wilhelmina” he said carefully, mouthing the syllables, savoring them as if it were some fine old wine. “Ergo, the white-blonde hair and cerulean blue eyes.” “Yes,” Billie said, annoyed as hell. She looked out the window to hide her pique. The sonovabitch thinks he’s a poet now. They’d been through other variations of this same how can I get to know you better and then into bed two-step so many times before. He wanted to get into her pants and that was not going to happen. No way…no how. She wished he’d get to the point. Why had he called her to this meeting? As if divining her thoughts, he finally said, “I asked you here because I want to discuss a new hire. Specifically, I want you to find someone for me. I don’t care what it costs or how you do it. And I’m giving you an exclusive.” “Well now, that sounds intriguing. Who is the target? I’m assuming you want me to pirate him or her from another firm?” “Exactly. It’s a him. Name is Evan Hart. I want him here…in my employ. I have a huge new systems project underway that is going to blow the doors off my so-called competitors. You cannot breathe a word of it to him or anyone else. I’ll cover the project when you get him in here and after he signs a confidentiality agreement. This project literally begs for his expertise. I mean this kid is still in his early twenties and he’s already a goddamn genius!” “Yes, I’ve heard things about him. It makes sense and it will be an interesting challenge. By the way, I appreciate your giving me the opportunity.” “Billie, you are the only one I would even consider signing up for this hire. Not another soul knows of what I’m up to. If it leaks, your professional ass is grass. You know that.” “Of course I do. My personal ass would be grass too. I can assure you I will not make any dumb moves. Have any of the others tried to recruit him?” “Everyone, but me!” “Do you have an address?”
“Some cheesy apartment complex in the ‘burbs
aptly named Meadowlark Manor or something equally distasteful.” He
slid a manila folder across the desk. “This is what I have on him.
It’ll get you started. Look, I’ll double your commission on this
project and pay all expenses - no questions asked. However, you must
hook Evan and get him into the boat. I want you to move this one to
the top of your pile. Use every weapon in your arsenal. Blind side
him if you must…do whatever it takes. ” Derek laughed. “Look, Billie, he doesn’t know you from Eve. Get in his head, but go easy. We don’t want to spook him or scare him off.” Billie managed a laugh. “The things I won’t do for my clients.” The CEO smiled and for a second actually took his eyes off her boobs. He looked her straight in the eye. “I want you to know we…I…do appreciate it.” She stood up then and straightened her skirt. “By the way, Derek, I hope you don’t think I didn’t notice you were checking out my boobs during the meeting. I’ve paid my dues. I spent years in H. R. before I went out on my own. We both know the rules. You could get in big trouble.” Derek laughed as he opened his office door. “So, sue me,” he said softly, patting her ass as she went through the door. “What an insufferable ivy league Yale asshole,” she muttered to no one in particular as she stabbed the down elevator button. “If that bastard wasn’t my biggest client…” Oblivious to her display of hips, boobs, and heels, she rode the elevator down 87 floors and strode out of the Hancock into the sunlight and onto crowded Michigan Avenue. She had already roughly formulated a plan. First she would do her usual homework, which meant digging up everything good and bad she could find on Evan Hart. That would include touching base with her H. R. mole at Evan Hart’s place of employment. Then she would find a nice virus to install in her lap top.
The mole in Evan Hart’s company was just one of several well-paid informants she kept under her thumb. She took good care of them, never questioned their needs. Consequently, they were completely loyal to her. She called the mole who filled her in. Much of the information Billie already knew. Evan’s company was a family oriented and owned business, nowhere near the revenue scale of MIS Systems. Evan was 24, reasonably good looking, and a totally geek. There were no disciplinary issues, no record of drug use, perfect attendance. He was definitely heterosexual and had no girlfriends that she knew of. Computers and on-line gaming were his life. Everyone in management seemed to love him. But there was one thing: Evan’s boss was concerned about Evan’s lack of social skills. He was too much of a geek. He needed to learn basic communication skills like maintaining eye contact, carrying on a non-computer related conversation, and even table manners. He would have to get out of his self-imposed shell before the family owners would move him up the ladder. Billie didn’t tell her mole this, but Derek Hallstrom couldn’t care less about Evan’s table manners. All Derek wanted was Evan’s techno- head on a Salome-sized platter. The next evening, Billie arranged her notes, took a deep breath, and dialed Evan’s number from her sumptuous home in Lake Forest. When he answered the phone he sounded like a wet noodle. Geez, I see what she means. “Hi, Evan, my name is Billie Thompson. We haven’t met, but someone told me you might be able to help me. It’s about computers.” “Let me guess,” he said with a tiny bit of enthusiasm, “You have a computer problem and you think I can fix it.” Picking up on the measure of pride in his voice, she went after him. “Yes, and I’m sure you can help-” “How did you get my number?” She lied so easily it sometimes frightened her. “One of the service guys at a computer service center gave me your name. He said he knows you and suggested I contact you. He says you’re the best.” “Mmm…not sure if that’s true, but why not let them fix your problem?” “Frankly, I don’t trust these guys. For all I know they’ll steal my business files. I cannot afford that. So can you help me?” “I’ll try and I’ll even promise not to steal your files. So what are the symptoms?” “Acts crazy. Can’t save anything. Screen goes black.” “Okay, we can’t do this by phone. Where can we meet?” “If you don’t mind, I’d like to meet at your place? You have all your stuff there…” “My apartment’s a mess, but if you can live with that…tomorrow night?” “Give me your address. I’ll see you there.”
Billie never did anything half-assed. Her plan to recruit Evan Hart would begin gently so as not to frighten him away. As time went on, she would ramp up her attack to a full-fledged assault on his computer clouded senses. For her first meeting with Evan, she showered and dabbed on a subtle but intriguing scent she rarely used. She artfully highlighted the glowing darkness in her eyes and swept her lashes until they were obscenely long. She applied a creamy carmine lip gloss and just a hint of blush to her cheeks. She put on a new pair of seamed panty hose and a bust minimizing bra that took a couple of inches off her bust line. Surprise, surprise, she thought as she hooked the sturdy bra. I never thought I’d actually wear one of these boob corsets. She chose a chiffon blouse with flowing sleeves that almost but could not completely hide the cleavage rising from the vee of her bra. She put on low-rise indigo designer jeans. The denim fit perfectly, hugging her hips and heart-shaped shaped ass. After donning a pair of low heels, she gathered her long chestnut hair, pulled it back from her face, and rubber banded it into a slinky pony tail. Next time she would wear it up like those ladies in the Gibson Girl cartoons. Her hair dresser would love that. He’d been begging her to let him transform her into an old fashioned girl for years. She checked herself one last time, grabbed her virus-laden laptop, and headed out the door. The things I won’t do to snag a client, she mused as she expertly stick-shifted her Mercedes convertible out of her tony suburb and onto the toll way.
Billie could barely hide her reaction when Evan opened the door to his apartment. Her mole had e-mailed her an employment photo, which as it turned out didn’t look anything like the young man standing before her. He was tall and thin with a boyish face and dark hair frantically splayed over his forehead. He wore a faded rock band tee shirt that hung on his slender shoulders and baggy khaki shorts that had seen far better days. Worn out sneakers adorned his sockless feet. She’d never seen more ugly knees. Someone ought to remind him not to wear shorts, she thought. “Hi, Evan, I’m Billie Thompson,” she said offering her hand. He awkwardly took it in his, which felt surprisingly warm. “Hi, yourself,” he said, softly, unable to hide the fact he was torn between looking at her and the laptop in her hand. He gave her a shy smile and invited her in. Evan had been sort of right. His apartment wasn’t just messy. It was a bona fide man-cave disaster. Computers, printers, stacks of paper, manuals, cords and cables, hardware, half eaten plates of food, clothing and pillows were piled everywhere. Being a compulsive neat-nick, she had to force herself not to say anything much less wade into this mess. If this was his living space, she could not help wondering what his bedroom and kitchen looked like. Perhaps he never actually went to either room. She would not let herself think of the state of his bathroom. Housekeeping aside, he really was pretty cute. He had lovely blue eyes and a sweet smile that endeared him to her. His handshake was warm and firm, which she liked. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be so bad after all. She also liked his self-effacing demeanor. Most of her male clients thought way too much of themselves not to mention their capabilities. Thank God, Evan did not seem to be of that ilk. She handed him the laptop. “Well, here it is. Can you look at it now?” His eyes lit up at the prospect of her challenge. “Sure,” he said, clearing space on his crowded desk where he quickly powered up the laptop and hunched over it like it might want to escape his scrutiny before he uncovered its secrets. She knew immediately he was trying to hide his interest in her breasts. Curiously she found herself relieved. Evan had shown his true colors, but it didn’t bother her. In no way was he even remotely like the others. His glances made her wonder if he would masturbate after she left. She found herself hoping he would. It would be the first measure of her hold on him. “Wow,” he muttered as the lap top screen lit up. His expert fingers danced lightly over the keyboard. “Someone really did a number on your hard drive…one helluva virus. Lemme try something.” He plugged in an external drive. The screens changed so fast under his flying flingers, Billie couldn’t keep up. He was so preoccupied he didn’t seem to notice she was standing right behind him. She carefully leaned over him, close enough that he caught her scent. She let the thrust of her over-filled bra graze his back. She could feel his response. This boy was not made of wood. He was so nervous at her proximity she could feel his discomfort fighting with his excitement. She backed off then and said nothing. Moments later, he finally turned to her and announced proudly he had repaired her hard drive. He closed the lap top and handed it back to her. She thanked him and kissed his scarlet cheek. “What do I owe you,” she asked. He gave her a crooked smile. “It was a simple fix. You don’t owe me anything.” “Look, I need to pay you something. I’m computer illiterate. I’d love to learn the basics from you. Tell you what: why don’t you let me take you out? I know of a great little place. How about Saturday at six? I’ll pick you up.” She looked at him with her sweetest unassuming smile and waited while he thought. He did not detect Mama Spider lurking behind her mask of innocence. “Sure…I’d like that,” he finally murmured. She could see he wasn’t at all sure if he really liked the idea of going out with her, but what the hell he hadn’t turned her down had he? All in all, she thought, it is a very good start.
That Saturday, she thought hard about what to wear. She wanted to entice Evan, draw him deeper into her web, but she didn’t want to scare him away. She could not afford to lose this financial plum nor did she want to listen to Derek’s rants. If she failed, he would never let her hear the end of it and she’d lose one helluva big bonus. She had to dress tastefully and professionally yet be provocative enough to slice through Evan’s nervous exterior and win over the delicious young man that lay beneath. She would not lie or mislead him about the job, but if a little dress-up worked, hey, she’d use it. She decided to go braless like those smaller busted girls that were everywhere now. But with her bust line, she wondered if she could pull it off without looking like a tart. She took her little black dress from the closet. The one she rarely wore. She called it her “just in case” dress to be worn only on those very special occasions. Well, this was one of those times. It had a cross-over bodice with a low vee neckline and an above the knee hemline. It fit her toned body like a glove. Beneath the dress she didn’t wear much more than a T-thong and skinny little garter belt to hold up her smoky seamed nylons. Stiletto heels rounded out her outfit. After brushing out her ash-blonde hair and putting on makeup, she checked herself in her bedroom mirror. A tall full-busted figure with deeply shadowed emerald green eyes and startlingly carmine lip gloss stared back at her. She’d drawn her hair back into a severe bun at the nape of her slender neck, which she hoped offset her dress and jiggling bustline and made her look at least a tad more business-like. The hem of her dress stopped halfway down her thighs. Her braless breasts were straining at the bodice of her dress. If she turned just right to the light, she could make out the outlines of her proud nipples nudging through the fabric. The neckline was low, but not too low she judged. Depending on how she moved when standing, she would only show an inch or two of cleavage. She’d show a lot more than that when she sat across from him at the restaurant. Poor Evan, she mused. He really doesn’t stand a chance.
Her assumption was confirmed when she picked him up at his apartment. His eyes bugged out when she got out of her car. While he stood there speechless, she took a good look at him. He’d actually surprised her by dressing for the occasion. She didn’t know what she had expected but it sure as hell wasn’t the old school look: polished oxblood loafers, pressed khakis, button-down blue broad cloth shirt, striped tie, and a blue blazer that looked like it was brand new. Her boy had been to the men’s store. All to the good, she thought, all to the good. His hair was still damp and combed to one side, giving him a delightfully boyish look. When she brushed her lips across his cheek she caught the hot blush spreading over his countenance. “Look at you” she laughed. “You’re beautiful. You clean up real nice.” Evan shrugged, tried to hide the fact he liked her flattery. “I haven’t been on a…a date since I can’t remember. I am really looking forward to having dinner with you.” She touched his arm. “Well…um, I wouldn’t call this a real date, at least not yet.” “Oh, no…” he stammered. I didn’t mean to infer anything.” “Evan, I’m sure you didn’t,” Billie Mama Spider murmured, keeping him right where she wanted, completely off-balance.
She drove her five-speed convertible to the restaurant aggressively, coming off each light at the split second it changed, popping the clutch and shifting as smoothly as a race driver. In her peripheral vision, she caught him stealing glances at her long legs, exposed bosom, and cleavage and was content to leave him be. Let him graze, she thought. He needs some eye candy. Come to Mama Spider, Evan. Step right into my parlor. At the restaurant, which was far more upscale than she had intimated, she saw how nervous he was and promptly took charge. She ordered wine for both of them, a bottle of Bavarian white aptly named Liebfraumilch. She wondered if he knew what it meant. They made small talk while he gulped down a couple of glasses of the wine. She began to tell him about herself, vaguely mentioned what she called her consulting business, but didn’t go into details. She was appalled at his lack of table manners. He would need a lot of help in that area. As he relaxed she began to gently pry him out of his shell. She asked him a couple of personal questions and then waited for him to answer. He began tentatively, telling her she didn’t possibly want to hear his story. But in her convincing way, she disagreed and never once raised her eyebrows when he stole looks down her dress. The Bavarian wine was sweet and delicious and loosened him up. He began to talk about his early fascination with computers. He told her about his father who had taught post-graduate math courses at the University of Chicago before he ran off to Cal Tech with one of his graduate students when Evan was just ten. He and his mother had survived, but just barely. He had entered college at sixteen on a scholarship and went on to earn a master’s degree in computer design before he was 21. She was barely listening. She knew all of this already, but acted as if she didn’t. She nestled her chin in her folded hands and gazed into his eyes. What the hell was going on? Evan, the boy wonder and mathematical whiz kid, was growing on her in a totally non-professional way. This had never happened before.
After dinner, she took him to her place. They were sitting on her patio, which overlooked a small lake. The air was still. There wasn’t a sound. Evan was tipsy now, giggling at his awful geek jokes. She sat beside him, wanting him, desperately fighting off the urge to take him into her bedroom and fuck the daylights out of him. She knew it wouldn’t do - not on their first meeting…or was it now a real date? She leaned over to him to refill his glass. She let the full weight of her unsupported breasts settle onto his arm and could sense the change in him. Some of his tipsiness disappeared as he looked into her eyes, wondering what she was up to. She saw the rise in his khakis and damn near took it in her hand. She knew he wouldn’t make a pass unless she allowed him. Tonight that was not going to happen. “You are absolutely brilliant, Evan. You have so much potential,” she whispered. “But aside from being a genius with computers you need guidance in other areas and I can provide that.” He looked at her puzzled. “Guidance? Don’t know what you mean.” She laughed softly. I’m talking about communication and social skills. Didn’t your mother teach you any table manners?” Evan gave her a crooked smile. “Um, she tried. She really did. Hey, I admit I’m a geek. It’s all I know.” “And you are superb at what you know and what you do. However, there is so much more. Look, you can and you should advance. I can help you with that.” “Why,” he asked, “are you trying to help me?” he giggled, gulping down another swallow of wine. “What is this wine? It’s s-o-o delicious.” Billie laughed. She knew she had him in her web. “It’s Liebfraumilch. It comes from Bavarian vineyards. Literally, it means Dear Lady’s Milk.” “That makes sense,” he mumbled, as his eyes dropped once again to the depths of her cleavage. This time her eyes encouraged him and he did not avert his gaze. She leaned to him and kissed him softly on his lips. When he responded, she opened her mouth and kissed him again, eliciting a little groan. She understood. Evan had reached the point of no return. She squeezed his hand then and felt him lose control as his cock stiffened and he began to come in his pants.
Continued in Part Two |