Opportunities

The letters landed late Friday afternoon when the office was almost empty. Bianca instinctively knew what they were yet, even as she opened her envelope, a tiny part of her refused to believe it. Across the room, others were reading, too. Their expressions showed it was the same letter.
Outside, shadows slanted across from the jagged line of rooftops. The setting sun seemed symbolic. A lurching feeling rose in Bianca's chest and, against her better judgement, she rang Cedric. "That's too bad," he said. It was a thoughtless reflex answer. He quickly added, "But you'll find something else." Bianca said nothing. Cedric asked, "What time are you coming home tonight?"
She put the phone down and cursed her weakness. From across the room, Jason spoke quietly but audibly: "The slimy bastards." He had joined the same day as Bianca.
By the time she got home, it was growing dark. Cedric was not there. She was grateful, as she was in no mood to talk to him.
She went to the bathroom and looked at her face in the mirror. In spite of her 40 years, it was still smooth--not beautiful perhaps, but, as a boyfriend once remarked, it was the spirited face of a prima ballerina. She stripped off and surveyed her body in the cheval glass. She was, she thought, in good condition. Her hair was still black, breasts round and firm, her belly flat, her thighs smooth, the triangle of hair bushy. She turned and surveyed her smooth buttocks.
v
Over the next days, Bianca wandered in haze of changing moods; from despair to hope to despondency, and back again.
Experienced people were always needed, she told herself. Maybe waitressing would do until something better came along.
Sometimes as she sat in her living room she felt she was hallucinating: the grainy pattern in her chest of drawers appeared sharper; the facets of the crystal decanter glinted more brightly than ever; her curtains seemed a deeper shade of blue. She hadn't noticed before how sharp the polished wood smelled.
v
Bianca and Meredith met at the shopping mall cafe. Meredith looked on the bright side. She always did. Life was an adventure. Meredith, at 55 not one ounce heavier than when she was in her 20s; gray hair pulled back into a pony tail; painted eyebrows rising like arches over her dark, probing eyes; flame red lips, lines forming along cheeks and jaw; floral dress cleavage plunging deep between her breasts, showing the dappled skin of a woman who has spent too much time in the sun.
"Losing a job, dear," she said, "is no disaster. It's an opportunity." She smiled, teeth showing stains of endless cups of coffee and cigarettes. She reached over and caressed Bianca's cheek and let her hand drop so it carelessly brushed Bianca's breast.
Bianca suppressed a jolting tingle.
Easy for Meredith to say, thought Bianca, but she said nothing. A free-lance artist, able to exist only because she was Harry's girlfriend. But how long before Harry found a younger girl? Harry had met Meredith through Bianca, and they shared him. For a time. Then Meredith was Harry's alone.
In her mind's eye Bianca saw Meredith, naked, Edirne Escort speckled, flame-red lips, mouth open, grunting and heaving in Harry's thrusting embrace.
Bianca's meeting Cedric meant the transfer of affections was not painful.
They ordered coffees. The young waitress took their order impatiently. The place was only half full but she was already under pressure. A sign on the door said, "Waitress wanted part time apply within". Not here, thought Bianca.
v
Over the following days, they surfed the "jobs" columns. Bianca sent off three applications, none of which drew immediate replies.
On the fourth day Bianca tried Craigslist. One entry caught her eye: an executive needed a personal assistant. Part-time but well-paid. The qualities expected matched hers and there were "travel possibilities". She hardly registered the "and other duties from time to time" tacked on the end.
But Craigslist? Meredith was adamant.
"Go for it," she said, caressing Bianca's neck and shoulders.
Bianca did answer. An hour later a certain Linda Barry wrote back. Bianca sounded ideal, in fact just what they were looking for and Mr Brown wanted to know if she could come for an interview? And could she send pics? Bianca hesitated. Meredith did not. "Send him one. You don't have to accept, but maybe this will swing it," she said.
They found the firm on the Internet.
v
Bianca dressed in a pants suit, choosing a white blouse with the merest suggestion of frills behind the line of buttons.
She took a cab. The address was in a part of town she'd never been to--light-industrial, tatty. They pulled up at a nondescript gray building. She photographed the nameplate and sent the pic to Meredith. She took a deep breath and rang the bell.
The office was up one flight of creaking stairs. At the top, a trim, gray-haired woman smiled through layers of lipstick and sun tan.
"I'm Linda," she said, in what seemed to Bianca to be a faux posh accent.
The office was dismal, minimally furnished. A collection of photos showed the hustle of the firm's employees at work.
A laptop lay open on a desk next to untidy piles of paper. A vague smell of cleaning fluid hung in the air.
A grubby window gave a view over a row of single storey warehouses.
Linda explained that they would soon be moving to a new place closer to town. She talked about pay, she explained that the duties included maintaining email and telephone contacts, and that interviews were being held over the next three days and applicants would be notified inside a week, and on, and on until Bianca's attention wandered.
"Ricky sees you as a lead candidate," she said. "He would like to interview you in the next room."
She pressed a buzzer and said, "Bianca is here."
A side door opened and a man's pallid face appeared--close-set eyes and a pasted grin. "Hello. Welcome, Bianca."
Bianca felt his eyes assessing her. He finally said, "Please come in."
He was about 50, wiry with thinning brushed-back hair a shade too black, and dark green t-shirt and loose jogging trousers. Edirne Escort Bayan He reminded her of an off-duty car salesman.
Bianca stepped inside. And gaped. It was a hall of mirrors, a kaleidoscope of reflected images multiplying as they receded into the distance.
At one side was a desk and, behind it, a chair, and a charcoal suit hanging on the wall. Facing the desk was another chair. Strange, she thought. This chair was not in front of the desk but in the centre of the room.
Ricky grinned at her surprise and said, "you like it?" His voice was deep, smooth and reassuring.
Bianca said, "Should I?"
He ushered her to the chair in the middle of the room.
To one side was a bed covered by a blanket. "When we're really busy, I can sleep here if I need to," he said, needlessly.
Ricky sat himself behind his desk and picked up a sheaf of papers--and Bianca saw why she was seated where she was. In whichever direction she looked, she could see Ricky--and he could watch her.
She felt discomforted but, well, maybe he was testing her...
Ricky held up the papers and pulled a face to indicate that he was not impressed by most of them.
"You do make a good impression," he said. His voice was soft and pleasant and his eyes sharp, roving, looking her up and down and left and right.
Bianca nodded.
Her mobile sounded. It was Cedric. She ignored it.
Ricky continued, "You must be able to maintain a friendly disposition, whether answering phones or face-to-face. You will meet with customers who come into the office, and show apartments to prospective tenants." It was a practised speech.
"This position is for afternoons and several weekend days each month," he said.
"Do you think you would be good at all these things I mentioned? Would you like the job?" Smiling now, concerned, solicitous.
"Now," he said, "tell me something about yourself."
Bianca talked. Her nervousness faded. As it did, a strange feeing came over her. She saw her own reflected face and felt that she was not watching herself but someone else. She heard herself telling a fanciful version of her life, and she didn't care if he knew it.
Ricky occasionally nodded.
Thoughts raced through Bianca's head. Cedric and his string of women. What would he think if he could see her now? The thought suddenly aroused her. Like a shot of cocaine.
Ricky's expression hardened. "Bianca," he said. They looked at each other. It was as if he could read her thoughts. "If you want the job, it's yours. But, please stand up and tell me what are you going to do for me."
She should have turned and walked out, but she did not.
v
She felt as if she was out of her body. She stood up and watched her hand reach the top button of her blouse and undo it.
Bianca undid the second button, and the third. She removed her blouse slowly without taking her eyes off Ricky. He ran his tongue over his top lip.
"Slowly," ordered Ricky. He pulled his shirt over his head.
In the distance, came the sound of hammering.
Still holding his Escort Edirne gaze, she slid her trousers down and slipped out of them. She stopped, still in her panties. "Take them off, " said Ricky.
He pursed his lips as she removed her panties.
"Turn slowly," he ordered. His voice was croaky. "Keep turning."
Bianca obeyed. She turned to face each mirror, one after the other. Ricky was now naked, his cock erect.
The hammering stopped. Far away, a car accelerated.
"Bend forward and open your cheeks," ordered Ricky.
v
She lay face down on the bed. His hands slid gently over her shoulders and neck and down her spine. He smeared oil across her buttocks. He ran a finger down between them. She gave a tiny shudder as he touched her there.
Bianca felt his finger remain there for a tiny second longer than necessary and pushed inside her. Then he massaged her legs.
Bianca turned over on to her back. She held her legs together as Ricky moved his hands over her breasts and belly and onto her thighs. At his touch, Bianca spread her thighs. She heard the little battery motor whirring into life and felt the smooth tapered end of the shaft play around the lips of her pussy.
Ricky turned the power up and pushed inside. Bianca gasped.
v
Bianca slid her legs off the bed and swung into a sitting position facing Ricky. Behind Ricky, Meredith stood nude, dappled breasts swaying, thighs straddling thin wisps of graying hair.
A cascade of fiery hormones swept through Bianca. She took Ricky's testicles in her fingers, and applied her tongue to his swollen red knob. Gently she ran her forefinger and thumb along the cock and then took it deeper into her mouth. She moved her head slowly at first, savouring the sensation.
Then, hot for the dam to release its contents into her mouth, she quickened the pace.
v
On the ride back, Bianca fell into a pensive mood. She felt none of the drained satisfaction she usually felt after sex. She watched blankly through the cab window as blurred images passed by. She wasn't so worried about the job. She didn't believe she would get it. Instead, she pondered her fantasy in mistaking Linda's naked body for Meredith's, for it was the image of Meredith that had unleashed that second burst of sexual energy.
Days passed, a week passed, and still no message from Linda or Ricky. After three weeks she sent a query through Craigslist, but there was no response.
Bianca never heard from the firm again, not from Ricky Brown, not from Linda Barry. She checked the Internet but the firm's web site had vanished. Its Craigslist posting had been removed.
"Don't worry," said Meredith. "That wasn't an opportunity at all. Your opportunity will come."
v
Meredith was waiting at the cafe. She smiled an uncharacteristically wan smile. Bianca knew something was wrong. Harry, she guessed.
"Losing a man, dear, is like losing a job" Meredith said. "It's no disaster. It's an opportunity."
However, her voice was tired, and she seemed to have aged. Bianca almost said, "Don't worry. Your opportunity will come." But she resisted as it might have sounded mocking.
Meredith's expression was imploring, as if she were wanting to say something, but she didn't. They both found conversation difficult.
Bianca felt Meredith's hand on her own, and heard her whisper, "Let's go dear."