Johanna – 11

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It was a cold and blustery Thursday in January 2019. Burton’s daughter Annabel had a performance, so he had left early in the afternoon to attend. I was working on my own in my cubicle when Benson poked his head in and asked me if I could stop by his office and help him with some briefs.It really wasn’t my job, and he knew it. But he liked treating me like a research assistant and I’d helped him a few times just to keep the peace. He always used it as an excuse to trip me up and make me look foolish. He was much more experienced than me, so it was easy for him to do. Then he would make a cutting remark about how I was a cocktail waitress trying to be a lawyer. He wasn’t stupid, it was all planned and rehearsed. I knew he was trying to make me lose my temper and shout at him so he could get me censured.“No, Mr. Benson,” I said. “I’ve got work to do for Mr. Wilson. He’s left, so I was just leaving to continue working at home.”“It will only take about half an hour, Johanna.”Calling me “Johanna” instead of “Ms. von Eschenbach” was also part of his effort to get me angry.“I wish I could, Mr. Benson. I’m sorry.”I put my coat on before he could say anything further. He abruptly left, his displeasure clear.I took the subway home and when I got to street level, I realized it was five-thirty in the evening. It was much earlier than I normally came home, so I called Jerry. It rang several times and I thought it would go to voicemail, but he picked up at the last minute.“Hi, Johanna,” he said. He sounded breathless, like he was working out.“You at the gym, darling?”“No, no, I’m home.” His breathing slowed, but his voice was still a pitch above normal. “You at the office?”“No, I decided to come home early. I just got off the subway, I should be up in five minutes.” I dropped my voice to a husky whisper. “I’ll take my panties off in the elevator. I’m looking forward to your special welcome in the hallway!”I quickened my step as I thought about this. Luckily, I got an elevator to myself, so I could slide my panties off. I put them in a pocket of my coat. I willed the elevator to rise faster and stepped out even before the doors were completely open. A woman in a short red dress was just getting on one of the other elevators. She had her coat over her arm and looked a lot like Stella Williams, a girl who worked at the gym with Jerry. She sometimes ran with us on our club runs.I tried to hold the doors of that elevator, calling out, “Stella! Stella!” But the doors shut with no response, so I thought I must be mistaken.I got to my apartment – I still had a hard time calling it “our” apartment – and opened the door. I hoped Jerry would be in the hallway in his briefs, but he wasn’t there. I went in calling for him, but he didn’t respond. I went through the kitchen, the dining room, and the living room, before going into the master bedroom. He was there in his briefs, but he was making the bed.“I was hoping you’d be in the hall with a hardon,” I said lightly.“I did a really hard weight workout at the gym. I was tired, so I took a nap when I got home.”“Did Stella come by? I thought I saw her getting on the elevator just now.”“No, no,” he replied. “Why would you think that? What would she be doing here?”He sounded nervous. He’s probably just tired, poor lamb, I thought.“I don’t know,” I said, with a laugh. “You always say she’s a nine and a half, and you used to sleep with her.”“You’re just jealous,” he said. “It’s making you crazy.”“I don’t want to talk about Stella. In fact, I don’t want to talk at all. I just want to jump into bed with you!”“I told you I’m tired, Johanna.”“It’s never stopped you before,” I said, still light and teasing. “You got it up after a marathon!”“Well, right now, I don’t want you. Stop begging me for sex.”I felt like he had slapped me in the face. I picked up my briefcase and purse, went to the study, and began to work. I heard Jerry in the kitchen fixing himself something to eat, but I wasn’t hungry and skipped dinner. I worked till ten at night, and when I came to the bedroom, he was asleep.He shook me awake about five AM. I was only half awake, so I could not be sure, but I thought I heard, “You want sex, I want a blowjob. Get on your knees, bitch.” He pushed me out of bed onto the floor and stood before me with his hardon in front of my face.“Cuddle me first, Jerry,” I mumbled as I gained coherence.“Open your mouth and suck on it!”“Can’t we make love –”“I want you on your knees, dammit! Come on!”He was being silly, but I wanted to get some more sleep before leaving for work. So I opened my mouth. He put his hands in my hair and rammed his erect member in all the way to my throat. I was surprised by the suddenness of his action and gagged.“Yeah, choke on me! It’s what you wanted, right?”I was experienced enough to give him what he wanted. But he was unnecessarily rough, pulling my hair as he fucked my mouth savagely. He held me tightly as he spurted his load down my throat. He didn’t act like he loved me, or even liked me.I had to remind myself once again of his difficult upbringing. He did not like to talk about it, but I had weaseled it out of him by bits and pieces over the year. His childhood included a drunken, drug-addicted mother who beat him mercilessly. She had a series of boyfriends who did the same and worse. As a teenager, he’d had brushes with the local drug gangs and was once shot in a crossfire. His high school teachers had been contemptuous of him, gave him little attention, and assured him he’d be in prison or dead before he was twenty. Compared to his life, mine had been a bed of roses.I was going to ask him why he was so mad after I rinsed out my mouth, but he was lying in bed with his back to me. I guessed it was his continuing reaction to what he saw as his humiliation at the office Christmas party at Burton’s place. He wanted blowjobs much more frequently since then and began using those phrases, “on your knees” and “choke on me.”As I was getting back into bed, I saw something bright red on of the floor, almost completely under it. I reached down picked it up. It was a lacy thong, still damp. I put it to my nose. The smell of female sexual fluids was very strong, the tiny garment was completely saturated with them. I was sure of one thing. It wasn’t mine.I put it back güvenilir bahis where I found it and got back into bed. I couldn’t get back to sleep and after fifteen minutes, I gave up trying. I shook Jerry and showed him the thong.“You want to show me your thong?” he said.“It’s not mine. I found it under the bed.”“How do you know? You have a drawer full of thongs. It must have fallen under the bed one of the times we were having sex.”* * * * *Less than two hours later, I was in the office. With all the tension with Jerry, I’d forgotten it was casual Friday and was dressed in my normal workday dark Chanel suit. I had just hung up my coat and changed out of my winter boots into my office high heels when Burton called me into his office. He asked me to spend the day at a high-tech ventures Expo at the Javits Center.“I’ll be frank with you, Johanna,” he said. “It’s a fishing expedition. A lot of these new startups have dizzying market caps, cutting-edge technology, and engineering smarts, but don’t have the first idea about how to protect their intellectual property. With your engineering background, I can’t think of a better representative for the firm. Of course, I’ll make sure that any new business you drum up generates a bonus that will be added to your paycheck.”I put my coat back on and headed out. As I was representing the firm, I stayed in my high heels. I called a luxury rideshare and waited in the warm lobby of our office building, going through my emails. A uniformed chauffeur showed up in about fifteen minutes. As he drove me to the Javits Center, I drank sparkling water from the seat cubby and scrolled the Expo website.It was a glitzy affair, dominated by the Silicon Valley tech giants that had huge displays, banners and booths staffed by dozens of representatives. The cavernous convention center was filled with the buzz of thousands of conversations. I checked my coat, went to the stand of a California coffee chain, and got myself a cappuccino.Then I wandered around, making notes on the various technologies on display on my iPad. Most of what was displayed was very technical and specialized, but everything was dumbed down to appeal to the layperson. I felt like I was just out of college again and was really enjoying myself talking to representatives at various booths where I saw something that interested me.I concentrated on the smaller companies and focused on making contacts with the founders. It was really ‘geek city’ and I found that being a woman who was at least average looking was a big advantage. At almost every stall, I was able to get to the persons I wanted to meet very quickly and had extended discussions.They talked about their technologies as well as the applications they had and hoped for. I told them what they had that was protected, what they needed to protect, and the legal ramifications of licensing deals, mergers, being acquired, or going through an IPO. Almost all of them were legally naked. As Burton said, it was surprising how naïve and unaware they were about the law.“So, how much are we talking?” I was asked for the umpteenth time, this time by a long-haired guy in a black Grateful Dead T-shirt with prominent tattoos on his forearms.“We’re one of the top law firms on Wall Street, so we’re not cheap,” I mentioned our basic retainer and he blanched. “But remember, you get what you pay for. If you retain us, you’ve got the big guns on your side. We’re not afraid to take on anybody. We’ve won for our clients against all the big boys, Apple, Google, Microsoft.”That got to him and I saw it on his face.“Well, you’re still talking about a lot of money,” he said. “We’d have to pay you more if we actually had to go to court.”“Of course,” I said. “But our retainer still provides you with a long list of services. Check them out and give me a shout if you’d like to talk some more.”By lunch, I had collected a thick stack of cards, in addition to electronic contacts on my iPad. I doubted whether any would lead to new business for the firm. Our fees were steep. These guys had lots of ideas and incredible brainpower, but not much money.I ate lunch by myself at a taco stand in the convention center and washed it down with more sparkling water. Then I went back to work, pitching the firm’s services. I got another cappuccino in the late afternoon, grateful to find a chair and take the weight off my feet. My office shoes had four-inch heels that made me about six feet tall. Being tall was an advantage in a work environment for reasons too numerous to list here. But several hours on tall heels always made my feet and legs hurt.Luckily Burton was six foot three. I was sure he wouldn’t feel threatened by a taller woman, but it made me comfortable that I could look up to him.“Johanna?”The voice was tentative, but very familiar. I mechanically stood up, groaning inwardly. But then my eyes lit up.“Tim? Tim Herbstein?”We looked at each other’s Expo nametags to confirm. He still wore glasses, but with fancy thin lenses set in an expensive Chopard frame. His hair was cut fashionably, and he wore a designer turtleneck with a beautifully cut blazer. I towered over him in my heels, and he was as pudgy as he had been in high school, but his jawline was firm, and his face had gained maturity. His eyes were as alive and boyish as they had been back then.“My God, Johanna! I can’t believe it! You’re a lawyer?”“You know our firm?”“Of course. You’re the top name on Wall Street.”I looked at his tag again.“Who do you work for? I thought you’d be with one of the big boys.”“Long story,” he said. “What are you up to? Do you have time?”“I must have done a hundred sales pitches today that won’t result in a dime in fees. I’m exhausted, done for the day. If I have to explain what a retainer is again, I’ll scream.”He laughed.“The little guys can’t afford you. And the big guys already have topflight representation.”“You said it,” I said. “What about you?”“I’m done too. My staff will stay with the booth and shut things down at closing time. I see you already have a coffee. Can I join you? Want another one?”“I’m caffeinated out. But I won’t refuse a bottle of Perrier and a croissant.”“Coming up,” he said.He came back with coffee, the Perrier, and two croissants. He sat down facing me.“So tell me about yourself,” güvenilir bahis siteleri he said.“Nothing much to tell. University in Wisconsin, law school in New York. Research assistant, then associate. Here I am, drumming up business, not very successfully.”“You’re as modest as you were in high school, Johanna. You’re an associate with the top law firm on Wall Street, yet you make it sound like nothing.”“I got lucky,” I said. “But I want to know about you.”“How much do you want to hear? I can give you the short version right here. If you want the long version, we should go someplace nicer.”“Oh, the long version, Tim. If you have the time and the inclination.”“What are your time constraints?”“I usually work late at the office. But I’m not going back there today. I’m a free woman.”“Would you like to have dinner with me?”“I’d love that.”“You’re the New Yorker, but I’d like to plug the place at my hotel, the King Cole.”“You’re at the St. Regis? That must cost a pretty penny.”“Corporate account, all fully tax-deductible. I’m the son of an accountant.”“Sure, let’s go.”It took us a while to get a rideshare, so it was nearly six by the time we got to midtown through traffic. Tim spoke quietly to the maître d’ after got there and we were ushered to Table 55 under the Old King Cole mural.“You can’t just walk in and get 55,” I said. “And it costs a fortune.”“It was already booked. My assistant did that a few months ago as soon as we paid for our booth at the Expo. It’s a business expense.”“That was underhanded. You brought me here under false pretenses.”“I did,” he said. He rubbed his hands and hummed the first few bars of Mysterioso Pizzicato, the classic villain’s theme before going on. “My real name is J. Evil. But you’re in my power now, you helpless young maiden.”“Oh, oh,” I said, putting on a falsetto. “Take me, J. Evil, please take me!”“Curses!” he said, twirling an imaginary mustache. “That’s not how it’s supposed to go.” The waiter came, stood by quietly, and he went on. “What will you have, Johanna?”“We’re at the King Cole, I suppose I should have a Bloody Mary. Or a Red Snapper, as they call them here.”“We’ll have two of those,” Tim said to the waiter.“You’re obviously doing well,” I said.“As Crocodile Dundee would say, better than average.” Tim’s attempted Australian accent was dreadful and made me laugh. “The way you’re dressed right now, you look just like your mother, so sophisticated.” He paused, looked down into his drink before continuing. “I heard she passed. I’m so sorry.”“Thank you. You don’t know how much it means to me, to hear you say I look like her.”“She was the most elegant lady I ever saw. I’ll never forget her.”“She’s my role model. In so many things.” I raised my glass. “But let’s talk of more pleasant things. Like your path to fame and riches.”That made him laugh.“Well, you asked for the long story, so don’t complain now.” I smiled, and he continued. “But seriously, stop me any time if I’m boring you.” We took sips of our drinks, and he dabbed his upper lip with his napkin. “I graduated MIT in 2013 and immediately left for Silicon Valley with some classmates to launch a startup based on a data compression software project we had done while at school. All five of us lived in a little rental rancher for which we paid a fortune in rent, ate nothing but eggs, powdered potatoes, and white bread. We burned through all the advances on every credit card we could get. Pitched, pitched, pitched for over a year. Nothing, not a dime. Then one of us found our software in the engine of a much bigger company. We all trooped over there but couldn’t get past security.”“Lesson learned,” I said. “Intellectual property rights are much more important than the ideas themselves.”“Exactly. Without legal protection, you’ve got nothing. That’s your territory.”“Yes,” I said. “I spent all day telling that to anyone who would listen.”“Anyway, I got to know a few people through all my pitching. I’d been working on a few other ideas that used our compression algorithm. I wrote a suite of programs for audio-visual enhancement using pattern matching routines. An angel investor saw downstream potential and staked me with a small space in a warehouse in the Mission District, funded some equipment.”“Gaming, facial recognition,” I said. “I can see lots of applications.”“That’s right. You’re as sharp as ever, Johanna, already two steps ahead of me.”“Don’t get over-excited,” I said. “It was pretty obvious.”“Only to someone with a super high IQ.”“Speak for yourself,” I said. “You’re the MIT grad. I went to university in Wisconsin.”“You got into MIT, Johanna, we both know that.”That and a dollar will get you a coffee, I thought. But I didn’t say it, and he went on.“Well, anyway, I was pitching again, but this time I patented every damn thing I wrote. Luckily, my angel investor paid the patent attorneys and filing fees. We started getting interest, people were licensing our stuff, using it in all kinds of applications, mostly gaming and security, but also things as esoteric as avionics. Money was coming in, and I hadn’t hired many people, so our expenses were low. I bought out my angel investor in early 2016, for about fifty times what he put in. Two months later, I got an offer from a technology warehouse to buy me out, lock, stock, and barrel for $30 million. I just got lucky with the timing, can’t take any credit. I took the money, retired all my debt, and paid off my employees with their termination bonuses.”“You must have had a fair bit left over,” I said.“About $20 million.”“For which you must have worked like a dog, pulled a lot of all-nighters.”“Twenty-hour days, typically,” he said, ruefully. “Slept on a mattress on the floor at work most nights. Got mugged a couple times, the Mission District can be a bit rough.” His expression turned soft. “I thought about you a lot.”“You thought about me when you were getting mugged? I’m flattered.”“I’m not joking. The way you handled Michael Jones back in high school, I thought, ‘If Johanna were here, she’d take care of you, assholes!’”“I haven’t had much luck doing that,” I said.The waiter was shimmering in the background again. I let Tim take charge, recalling his culinary expertise. He discussed the menu with the waiter, who was soon out of his depth. He left iddaa siteleri and returned with the chef, a dapper Frenchman. Tim and the chef discussed options and ended up deciding on something that was not on the menu at all. The chef seemed happy with this gastronomic challenge and returned when we were midway through the main course to ask for Tim’s reactions.“Let’s ask Johanna,” he said to the chef. “She grew up with far better cuisine than I did.”“No, no,” I said, coloring. “Tim, you know far more about food than me.” The chef still waited, looking at me, so I felt I had to say something.“The Chateaubriand sauce is lovely,” I said. “I think I taste goat’s butter. My nose tells me the wine you used is a chardonnay.”“Very good, madame,” said the chef in his thick French accent, glancing at Tim’s wedding band.“Mademoiselle,” I corrected.“I’m so sorry for making the assumption. I am amazed at your picking out the goat’s butter. It’s my personal touch, very tough to get right.”“I think the wine is a pinot grigio,” said Tim. “Very like an unoaked chardonnay.”“Yes, sir, you are exactly right. An Oregon pinot grigio, 2010. It is a pleasure to cook for two such gourmets.”He left with a bow. Tim reached across and took my hand.“You’re amazing,” he said.“The taste of the butter came through clearly,” I said. “The wine was difficult. You got that one, I didn’t. But you haven’t finished your story.”“Not much more. I’d been playing around with image processing on the side, patented some software. I’ve got a bit of a reputation now, so I was able to raise some low-cost debt and get some VC money when I launched my current startup. We develop and market tools for game developers, but there are other applications. We’ve got an imputed market cap of about $45 million. It’s just funny money, doesn’t really mean anything. Just a number to bandy about in marketing and at parties.”“Are you thinking IPO or acquisition?”“At the moment, I’m just having fun. I’ll see how far I can ride this pony. Tech is a hard mistress. If you go into it for the money, it’ll make you miserable.”“You’re married, I see,” I said.“Yes. I met Hannah in 2015, we were married the same year. She was a public defender in San Jose, three years older than me.”“Whirlwind romance?” I teased. “Young love?”“I would probably have waited a bit,” he said. “Especially since I was working so hard. But my mom came out and Hannah took us to meet her parents, the Resnicks. When Mom saw that her father is a rabbi, she became obsessed with having her as a daughter-in-law. She was calling me every day, pressuring me to propose.”“I’m sure she had your best interests at heart.”“Her Jewish identity is very important to her. It sometimes impels her to do things that aren’t nice. I’ll never forget how mean she was to you when you came to our house for dinner.”“Can you blame her? I was this shiksa bitch threatening to take away her nice Jewish boy and turn him goy.”“I wish you had. You tore my heart out when you broke up with me. Of course, I knew I wasn’t good enough for you.”I reached forward and put a hand on his cheek.“Tim, you’re too good for me.”“I wish you could see yourself as I see you.”“So do I,” I said. I laughed, but he didn’t laugh with me. “But we’re talking about you. Do you have kids?”“A three-year-old boy, and a one-year-old girl. Hannah wanted children as soon as possible. She’s taken a career break to stay home with them.”“Any pictures?”He pulled out his phone, swiped it open, and scrolled through pictures till he found the one he was looking for. It showed the family standing under a sun umbrella on a patio encircled by manicured flower beds. The baby girl was in Tim’s arms and the toddler boy was holding his mother’s hand. Hannah was a very pretty redhead, a bit shorter than Tim. She wore a halter top and shorts, had curves in all the right places. I looked at her full breasts and tight cleavage enviously.“Perfect family,” I said. “Congratulations, Tim.”He said, “Thanks,” but his face remained serious. “Do you want dessert?”“Not really,” I said.“How about a walk?”“It’s freezing outside. And I’m on tall heels. I should go home.”“Don’t go,” he said. “Have a liqueur.”“I’ve had enough alcohol for the night.”“Coffee? Tea? Petit fours?”“I’ve had a lovely evening, Tim. But everything has to end.”“Do you want to go?”I picked up my water glass and took a sip to avoid answering right away. I thought of Jerry at home, of the red thong under our bed.“No,” I said. “I don’t really want to go home.”“Is anyone home?”“My boyfriend.” “What’s he like?”“A hunk,” I said. “Adonis in the flesh.”“Oh,” he said.“He’s been treating me like shit recently, though.”“Fucking asshole!”“Whoa, you’ve learned some new words.”“Tech people have foul mouths.” He reached forward and put a hand on mine. “I’m sorry, Johanna.”“Well, at least one of us is happy, so we’re batting five hundred.”“I didn’t say that.”“What more to do you want, Tim? You’ve got the life everyone dreams of. Gorgeous, sexy wife, healthy, happy children, success at work.”“It looks good from the outside, yes.”“Tell me about it,” I said. “If you want.”He sighed deeply.“I’m not unhappy. But that’s not the same as being happy, is it?”“No.”“I’m content.” His hand was still on mine and he ran his thumb over my knuckles. He kept looking at me, and I did not look away. “But that summer with you in Wisconsin, Johanna! It was pure bliss! Nothing in my life since can compare. I’ve never stopped thinking about you.”“We were young, Tim, that’s all it was. You’d have felt the same with any girl. It just happened to be me.”“Is that what you think? That it was just the time, and not the person?”“You’ve gone on and done much better. Your wife is far more beautiful than me.”“But she’s not a nerd goddess.”“Not a nerd? Or not a goddess?”“Neither.” Suddenly, pain showed on his face. “Did I mean nothing to you?”“Of course not, Tim. You meant a lot to me.” I paused. I’d often thought about him, too. Our times together were wistful memories that I’d stored away. I took them out to comfort myself when I was feeling particularly sad or lonely. “You’re the first boy I gave my heart to. And you’re the only one who didn’t break it.”I hadn’t meant to say that out loud and put my hand on my mouth.“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to –!” I began.But he leaned forward across the table and cut me off with a kiss. I opened my mouth and kissed him back. When he sat back, we looked at each other wordlessly for a few moments. I put my fingers in his hair, pulled him forward, and kissed him again.

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