“Never thought I’d see the day I was glad to have a homo around.” Carl was the only one laughing at his inappropriate jokes. “Speaking of Prescott, though, I hear he’s looking to sell Ms. Lana to the highest bidder. I thought flesh peddling was illegal.”
This man was a laugh a minute. “From what I understand, Ms. Losers,” he made sure to say her name correctly, for her sake if no one else’s, “has outgrown Prescott’s agency. He’ll make more money off a headhunter’s fee than he will keeping her in a place like DC.”
“Pah. Virginia. Unless she hops the border and starts selling in Chevy Chase, she’s useless both to herself and every firm in the area. I can’t lie, I’d love to have her on my roster.” Carl licked his lips. Ken wanted to gag. “She needs to move up to New York. The question is, who’s gonna snatch her up and make both her and themselves millions?” Carl looked back toward Ken. “Are Lois & Bachman interested in her?”
Ken closed his notebook and shoved it into his conference folder. Surrounding him were other men and their assistants typing up panel notes into clunky square laptops that started smoking after fifteen minutes of use. Ken had recently seen some prototypes for flat handheld computers that a man could use with a slide out keyboard. It sounded too good to be true. (It was. His friend in the tech industry told him that they were still a few years away from the public market.) Apple was particularly interested, but only if they got their flat touch-screen phones off the ground. Ken didn’t know if he would be able to give up his Blackberry, but he’d try.
“I’m sure my bosses would love to pursue a talented saleswoman like Ms. Losers.” Ken removed his reading glasses, folded them up, and stuffed them into his vest pocket. “But I don’t think I’ll be pursuing her on their behalf.”
“Oh? Why the hell not? You a mad one?”
Ken snorted. “Hardly. I don’t doubt her skills.” A woman that charismatic and flirtatious could sell a humidifier to a Floridian. “I just don’t think she’d be the best fit for Lois & Bachman. I have other enterprises to pursue.”
“That so? Well, all the more luck to me, then. Perhaps I’ll speak with Prescott about it later. Think she’d work for seventy a year before commissions?”
That’s underselling her, but you knew that already. Asking her to move to Manhattan on top of that? For only seventy-thousand a year? Ruthless. Lana couldn’t be that stupid to take an offer like that. “You should ask her.”
“Oh, I will. Then I’ll ask her to dinner, eh?” Carl’s laugh wasn’t much better than his manners. It certainly didn’t compare to Lana’s sweet giggles. She could come off as a cold woman, but when they were alone, Ken was able to hear a completely different side of her. I wouldn’t mind getting to know it better. Ah, so not meant to be.
“I’ll sweeten the pot with my own personal bonus, if you know what I mean.” Carl stood and nearly knocked the coffee table between him and Ken over. “Pardon me. Thoughts of beautiful women, you know!”
There’s no way your cock is bigger than mine, Carl, but you tell yourself that. “I do know what they’re capable of, yes.” Ken spared him a diplomatic smile before Carl took off to speak with someone else. When Ken looked for Lana, he could not find her. Just as well. He didn’t want to slip back into inappropriate thoughts, no matter how sweet they seemed in his head. Lana deserved better than to have every man in the room drooling over her – and that included him, the man who had his cock pumping inside of her the night before.
***
Carl Jefferson was not the only man with ulterior motives toward Lana Losers, as Ken unfortunately found out as the day went on. More than once he heard the underlings of this agency and the head gentlemen of that one discuss the grand achievements the woman accomplished during her short career. Then they talked about what they wanted to do to her in the bedroom. Or the shower, if one particular pervert could be believed.
Ken could hardly stand it. When he wasn’t being abruptly reminded of the amazing sex he had with her the night before, he was subjected to that curdling jealousy embroiling his heart in war. Settle down. She’s not your girlfriend. How else could he feel when half the men at the conference openly talked about wanting to fuck her when she wasn’t in earshot?