What Happens in Vegas

I used to sit in one of these cubicles. Four of them, actually. They’d moved me twice with each promotion, and another two times just for the fuck of things. But hey, that was the firm. That was the way things went. Either you lived with the craziness, or you tried not to let the door hit your ass on the way out.

Actually two months and three weeks, and four days. But who’s counting?

I was counting, that’s who. More specifically, I was counting the days and weeks until I was entitled to my next vacation.

Of course, I had more than enough time saved up. Technically I’d banked several whole months of vacation time. But company policy for essential personnel dictated I had to wait four to six months before putting in for another leave greater than three days. Which meant four months of course, because I wasn’t waiting a single second more than that.

Lilith knew it too, but that was okay. All the better when I had to eventually bring it up, and not be accused of ‘springing it’ on her. She’d been absolutely furious when I got back from Vegas. But it was a silent fury. A cold, passive-aggressive anger served alongside tons of tedious new work and very few — if any — words on her part.

In fact, my boss had spoken no more than a dozen words to me in almost a quarter of a year. She used underlings to talk for her, and emails to dole out tasks or demand updates. She’d also taken a good deal of my better clients away, and redistributed them all over the office. Half of them had gone to her, and the other half had been sprinkled amongst my co-workers, much to their chagrin and discomfort.

It didn’t matter, though. I endured it all. I took everything she sent my way with a warm smile and happy words — even when she announced she was taking Esteé Lauder. That one had been my baby, my first big score. An account I’d worked hard to wrestle from a poorly-positioned competitor, and one I’d built up through the years into a multi-million dollar, money-making machine.

Yeah, that one really hurt, I had to admit. It stung for a few solid days. But most of the jobs Lilith took away were portioned out to people directly beneath me, and that part made me smile. Our department wasn’t big enough — there was simply too much work. And not only was I handling most of it, but the people working for me were handling a good chunk too.

All of t

his made working at the firm a lot more tolerable. Getting up every morning and dragging my ass into an office that didn’t know how to approach me, or whether or not even talking to me would put them on the big boss’s shit list. And by now, Lilith had a very long shit list. A long, detailed list of resentments and enemies… with Noelle and I positioned at the very top.

So I worked, I ate lunch, I worked some more. And when it was finally time to leave that hellish sea of cubicles and locked oaken doors?

I headed home… to where the guys were always waiting for me.

Not in person, of course — that would simply be too good to be true. But they were there in spirit, and messages, and phone calls. And best of all they were there on my big 72” television screen every night, when I locked the door to my apartment, stripped down to something sexy, and Skyped them from the privacy of my own living room.

Most nights it was Brody or Corey, and sometimes even the both of them together. Other times it was Mason, all the way from LA, Skyping me later rather than earlier due to his long Hollywood days.

Once or twice it was even all of them, brought in to the same call together. And those times were the most fun of all…

It was awkward at first, learning to relax. I’d never done phone sex with anyone, much less the things we were doing over video chat. The first couple of times I’d hung blankets over the curtains, just to make sure no one could see. But eventually I got more comfortable with the idea, especially as the clothes came off and the guys stretched out — each in their own room, of course — and I began letting them tell me exactly what they wanted me to do to myself…

And then doing it for them.

It was a strange relationship, no doubt. But the important thing was, we’d kept in touch. Corey and Brody had opened The Underground, which was a kickass name for any lounge really, much less one located in Las Vegas. I’d helped them with the signage, the branding, the publicity of their launch. Everything had gone famously, from the chicness of the modern re-design to the B-list actors and actresses Mason dragged down there intermittently, over the first few weeks.

I wish to hell I could’ve gone. That I could’ve been there not just for the celebrity, but for the excitement of their overall success. The guys were busy for a good five or six solid weeks, and there were times I didn’t hear much from them at all. But once the smoke cleared, the initial craziness died down, and the two of them settled into a nicely proportioned routine? They came at me with a vengeance… and promised me unspeakable things upon my triumphant return.

That part always put a lump in my throat. Thinking about seeing them again. About being held in their strong arms, crushed against some soft mattress by the weight of their broad, naked chests. I wanted to kiss them, taste them, have them ravage me any way they wanted to. Mason would come up, we’d already decided. We’d make another entire week of it.

All of these things barreled through my mind, like a dirty little freight train on its daily run. They distracted me. Kept me from succumbing to the mind-numbing politics of daily office life. In fact—

I jiggled the knob to my office door again, making sure the key was inserted properly. Actually, the key only fit half way. The other half wouldn’t go in…

Maybe it was bent, I thought to myself. Or maybe the lock had something jammed in it.

I tried it again. Shook the knob violently, while trying to—

“Lauren…”

I glanced up, and there was Noelle. She was off to the side, crouched down near one of the cubicle walls. Like she was taking cover from a bombing run or something.

“Hang on,” I said, still annoyed. “I need to get in my offic—”

“That’s what I’m trying to say,” she hissed, even lower than before. “It’s not… it’s not…”

Like a ghost, Lilith materialized out of absolutely nowhere. I saw Noelle’s whole face go ashen white. She cringed as our boss walked up behind her.

“It’s not your office,” said Lilith, with more than a little satisfaction. “That’s what she’s trying to tell you.”