Read Online Knight Fall (An Erotic BBW Romance) by Marina Maddix - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Marina Maddix
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interested or assumed she was dense and let it go. Not Wigley. It seemed her Amazonian size didn't bother him a bit, even though she must have stood half a foot over him. For her first couple of weeks on the job, he would pass by her assigned desk at least once a day for a friendly peek down her shirt. He even offered to provide special one-on-one training in his office, which she demurely declined by saying she didn't want to waste his valuable time, that she was doing fine, that she'd muddle through. Whatever it took to keep him at bay.
Realizing that her artsy-fartsy wardrobe was a wee bit too revealing, she hit up every thrift store in town in a quest for button-ups, loose sweaters and blazers. It took a good month or so for Wigley to get the message that his tubby, pale body wasn't getting anywhere near her, a fact he was none too pleased to discover.
Soon Kelly's supervisor — a bitter, scrawny woman who had never been particularly welcoming — was assigning her the worst of the grunt work, which was normally divided up among all the data entry clerks out of fairness. Apparently fairness only applied to those who sucked the manager's scabby little dick. The worst part was that he hadn't said or done anything blatant enough to warrant a sexual harassment complaint, so she was stuck doing the crap work. Of course she could quit, but that was exactly what Wigley wanted. Which was precisely why Kelly was determined to stay put…at least for a while. She was nothing if not stubborn.
"Ms. Saunders," he said as he looked up at her. "I understand you were 30 minutes late for work this morning."
"Oh, yes, sir. I'm so sorry about that but I had a little car trouble on my way in." Her 17-year-old beater had blown out a tire on the freeway, and she'd barely escaped getting creamed by a semi on her way to the breakdown lane. Of course everyone else on the road had been in a big damn hurry to get to work as well, so she'd been stuck changing out the tire herself.
Wigley appeared unimpressed by her tale of woe and just stared at her. She shifted where she stood, feeling on display.
"I'd planned to work late to make up the time," she offered. That seemed to appease him a bit.
"I should hope so. See that it doesn't happen again."
He turned back to his computer, which Kelly took as a dismissal and popped out the door before he could say anything else. His nosey assistant was grinning like the Cheshire cat —she'd clearly been eavesdropping — so Kelly just kept moving.
What an asshole , she thought, wondering what the hell she was doing in corporate America. She wasn’t cut out for it. All the politics, all the ass kissing; it just wasn't her. But she had rent to pay and paints to buy — though it dawned on her as she made her way back to her grim little desk that she hadn't painted so much as a stroke since starting this pathetic job. Regardless, for the moment, she'd do what she had to.
For the moment.
~ * ~ * ~
For the rest of the day, Kelly alternated between rage at the way she'd been treated since she'd started and depression that she was trapped here. She had no idea how much longer she could tread water before finally drowning in the corporate bullshit. She didn't even have any friends at work to vent to. Those in her department who hadn't immediately hated her had quickly seen that she was a pariah, and that any association with her would reflect badly on them. Besides they liked not having to do the grunt work. She was surrounded by assholes.
Quitting time rolled around all too slowly, and as her co-workers packed up and headed out to the local bar together to celebrate the end of the work week — she'd never been invited to join them — Kelly kept her head down in her little corner and continued punching numbers into the database. She had no idea what they meant or who would find the information useful, but her job wasn't to question why. Tap-tap-tap, that was her job, and she hated every moment of
Realizing that her artsy-fartsy wardrobe was a wee bit too revealing, she hit up every thrift store in town in a quest for button-ups, loose sweaters and blazers. It took a good month or so for Wigley to get the message that his tubby, pale body wasn't getting anywhere near her, a fact he was none too pleased to discover.
Soon Kelly's supervisor — a bitter, scrawny woman who had never been particularly welcoming — was assigning her the worst of the grunt work, which was normally divided up among all the data entry clerks out of fairness. Apparently fairness only applied to those who sucked the manager's scabby little dick. The worst part was that he hadn't said or done anything blatant enough to warrant a sexual harassment complaint, so she was stuck doing the crap work. Of course she could quit, but that was exactly what Wigley wanted. Which was precisely why Kelly was determined to stay put…at least for a while. She was nothing if not stubborn.
"Ms. Saunders," he said as he looked up at her. "I understand you were 30 minutes late for work this morning."
"Oh, yes, sir. I'm so sorry about that but I had a little car trouble on my way in." Her 17-year-old beater had blown out a tire on the freeway, and she'd barely escaped getting creamed by a semi on her way to the breakdown lane. Of course everyone else on the road had been in a big damn hurry to get to work as well, so she'd been stuck changing out the tire herself.
Wigley appeared unimpressed by her tale of woe and just stared at her. She shifted where she stood, feeling on display.
"I'd planned to work late to make up the time," she offered. That seemed to appease him a bit.
"I should hope so. See that it doesn't happen again."
He turned back to his computer, which Kelly took as a dismissal and popped out the door before he could say anything else. His nosey assistant was grinning like the Cheshire cat —she'd clearly been eavesdropping — so Kelly just kept moving.
What an asshole , she thought, wondering what the hell she was doing in corporate America. She wasn’t cut out for it. All the politics, all the ass kissing; it just wasn't her. But she had rent to pay and paints to buy — though it dawned on her as she made her way back to her grim little desk that she hadn't painted so much as a stroke since starting this pathetic job. Regardless, for the moment, she'd do what she had to.
For the moment.
~ * ~ * ~
For the rest of the day, Kelly alternated between rage at the way she'd been treated since she'd started and depression that she was trapped here. She had no idea how much longer she could tread water before finally drowning in the corporate bullshit. She didn't even have any friends at work to vent to. Those in her department who hadn't immediately hated her had quickly seen that she was a pariah, and that any association with her would reflect badly on them. Besides they liked not having to do the grunt work. She was surrounded by assholes.
Quitting time rolled around all too slowly, and as her co-workers packed up and headed out to the local bar together to celebrate the end of the work week — she'd never been invited to join them — Kelly kept her head down in her little corner and continued punching numbers into the database. She had no idea what they meant or who would find the information useful, but her job wasn't to question why. Tap-tap-tap, that was her job, and she hated every moment of
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