Steph's interview, Heidi's blowjob. Strike that, reverse it....

I feel very strongly that the boss ought to be involved in every single job interview.

Whether you are hiring an executive-level VP or a mail room clerk, it makes a difference to have the CEO walk into the room and introduce himself at the end of the interview. Remember, to successfully hire someone, you have to choose a candidate, and that candidate also has to choose YOU. Sometimes the person you want is fielding more than one job offer, and a smile and a warm handshake from the guy running the show sometimes makes a difference. This was one of the best lessons I ever learned from Ross. I didn't always agree with him, but I really think he got this one right.

I explained this policy about interviews to Dom, and he liked it very much. I promised him that I would be free to come in for five minutes once he was done interviewing Heidi.

Bonnie buzzes me. "Dom is ready for you now, Steve."

As I walk to his office, something occurs to me. I look across the floor, and see the rows and rows of cubicles, the huge picture windows, and the employees bustling around, busily solving a million little problems. This is MY office, I think. I am the fucking boss. ME!

I open Dom's door. Dom and Heidi stand up to greet me.

Heidi surprises me. Her glasses are gone; her eyes are big and brown. Her hair is freshly washed, a mass of big black curls tumbling down to her shoulders. She's wearing a long blue skirt and a beige blouse with matching one-inch heels.

Holy shit! She's cute!

"Good morning, Steve!" she says, beaming. She seems genuinely happy to see me. I'm very cynical, and she actually sells me. And her voice is just like it was on the phone: Smooth, clear, and pleasant. She gives me a firm handshake and looks me right in the eye as she does.

She sits back down, smooths her skirt, and looks at me. She's waiting, patiently, for me to speak. What happened to the chick who hates awkward silences?

"So, tell me, how did the interview go?" I say.

"Very well," she says. She stops smiling. "I'm really impressed by your company. I'm a little concerned about this position, though."

"Because."

"I don't like the idea of being someone's assistant," she says. "At my current position, I am an administrative assistant, and I work for the head of the department, but I'm not really HER assistant, per se."

OK, did this girl just use per se in a sentence?

Hey, honey! Who are you, and what have you done with the squeaky-voiced bimbo from the bar?

"You might think being someone's assistant is a step down," I say. "But in reality, it's probably a step UP for you. Yeah, you'd get Dom coffee sometimes. And sometimes you might pick up his drycleaning. But you know what? Assistants like Bonnie, who you met when you came in here, who have been with the company a long time - they are some of the most respected employees in the whole company."

"And FEARED," Dom says.

"And feared," I say. "Some people make the mistake of thinking that Bonnie is just a secretary, and they disrespect her in some way. People have been fired for it. The other executives know how important people like Bonnie are. A while back, she had had a bad year, and they all chipped in and bought her a mink coat for Christmas."

"Reeeally...." Heidi says, staring intently.

"Dom is the VP of operations, and his assistant is his eyes and ears. And in some cases, his hands and his feet. If we offer you this job, you might take it, and you might not, but don't let it be because it's not prestigious enough or not visible enough, because it definitely would be," I say.

"What can you tell me about the person who is in this position now? Why is she leaving?"

A long story, my friend. Actually, not long. I stopped fucking her. The end.

"She left for personal reasons. She was a great employee and we would have been happy to keep her around."

"What kind of experience did she have?"

Well, she was getting fucked by a 28-year-old when she was 14, I know that. She also smoked pot at 12 and snorted coke at 15. I guess you could call her a child prodigy.

This was just supposed to be a quick hello. Why the fuck didn't she ask Dom these questions?

"Believe it or not, she was an entry-level employee," I say.

"Wow!" Heidi says.

"Heidi," Dom says. "Based on everything I've heard here today, I'd like to offer you this position. I would go so far as to say that if you take this job, I would cancel my other interviews."

He makes her a salary offer. "It seems a bit low," she says.

"Dom," I say, after a dramatic pause. "I gave you a number before this interview, and as long as you stay within that number, I'm ok with whatever you want to do."

He looks down at a piece of paper on his desk, and increases his offer by $2000.

"I'll take it," Heidi says.

I probably don't have to tell you this, but Dom didn't have any other interviews scheduled, and I didn't give him any salary limit before the interview. It was all an act.

Looks like it worked.

**********

It's been a stressful week. I feel badly about Lila. She is a good person and I really hate the idea that she is caught in such a downward spiral, especially since a lot of it is my doing. I am going to call her in a week or so, when she gets her head together. I am actually hoping we can be friends at some point.

Yeah, I just said that.

Friday, 3:05. I call Stephanie. Voice mail.

"Steph, Steve. Please call." My famous four-word message.

Bonnie buzzes me. "Melissa needs to speak to you regarding the....bank balance?"

"OK," I say. Melissa walks in.

"Our statement is WAY outta balance," she says. We review some figures and it appears that $50,000 is missing. Holy shit!

My phone buzzes. I let it go to voice mail.

Melissa and I find the problem. She was forgetting to add in a credit transaction. We are in balance.

I check my voice mail. "Hi, Steve, it's Steph. My exam went well. I am ready to de-stress! Please call!" Then she kisses the phone with an audible smack! It actually gets me kind of hot.

I call her back. Voice mail. "Steph, Steve. Tag, you're it!" click.

I run to the bathroom to pee. And as Murphy's Law would have it, Stephanie waits until I've got my dick in my hand to call back.

I let go of my cock and grab for the phone. But my penis has a mind of its own, and it slithers this way and that, spewing piss everywhere like a runaway garden hose.

I let the call go to voice mail and wipe up the wall and floor with paper towels. Carl, one of our VP's, walks in while I am bent over, wiping the floor.

"You're supposed to pee in the urinals, sir," he says, unsmiling.

Gee, thanks. Whacko.

I check my voice mail. "Steve, Stephanie. AAARRRGH! Phone tag! Please call! Thanks babe!"

I call Stephanie back. She picks up on the first ring. "HELLO!?" she says.

"OH my God! Is this Stephanie's voice mail again?" I ask.

"No! I mean, Yes! Please leave a message at the beep!" she laughs.

We make arrangements to see Shark Tale tonight. "You want to get some drinks beforehand?"

"No. How about after," she says.

This could be good, actually. We watch the movie and get nice and cozy, THEN she gets good and liquored up. And just as her inhibitions are reduced to Johnny Knoxville levels, I take her home.

**********

Friday night. This ain't a movie review site, so I'm not gonna comment on Shark Tale. Suffice to say, it's a rental. As I watched the movie, I got an image of a bunch of studio executives sitting around a table saying, "We've got to capitalize on this underwater-themed-computer- generated-kids-movie-with-adult-jokes-in-it trend! Somebody come up with something! Anything! Quick!!" And Bob DeNiro is one of my favorite actors, but I have no idea why he continues to take work in such mediocre movies.

We didn't talk much through the movie, but I put my arm around her and she grabbed my hand when I did and held it the whole time. We whispered a few jokes back and forth, but the place was packed, so we were mostly quiet.

There's a quiet little bar about a mile from my house; I take Stephanie there afterwards.

Where you take a girl for drinks at a time like this is important. If you've already been together all night, and it's going well, you want someplace quiet and low-key where you can talk. If you're going out at the beginning of the night, that's when you want more of a party atmosphere where she will be tempted to drink, dance, and let her guard down so you can pounce.

Stephanie likes cosmopolitans. She has 3 or 4. I drink vodka-tonics. We talk the whole time, about college, and work, and our upbringings. I leave out the part about mom being a drunken whack job.

I'm actually having a great time. I think this bar was a perfect choice. But it's getting late, and now it's time to see where this is going. I have not had sex in what seems like a year.

"Wanna come over for a drink?"

"I'm drinking now," she says, smiling.

"Yeah, but the drinks are free at my house."

"Mmm-hmm. I doubt they're free," she says, smiling even wider.

I wave the waiter over for the check. She didn't say yes, exactly, but close enough. If she doesn't want to come over, she'll say something.

"Your house is beautiful!", she says as we pull into the drive. "You renovated this yourself?"

"A lot of it, yeah."

We get out of the car. "You wanna go for a walk?" I ask.

"OK," she says. She bumps her hip against mine and puts her arm around my waist. I do the same.

Stephanie looks really pretty tonight. She's wearing jeans and black cowboy-style boots with a fuzzy wool turtleneck. I love the way her hair flops in front of her face, and how she sweeps it away with a bent middle finger and thumb.

We walk around the block and stop in front of the pond. The "God, this is beautiful" pond. Let's see what she says when she sees it.

We stare at the water for a long moment. She doesn't say a word. But she takes a deep breath, and I feel her body relax.

Yeah, I'm getting laid tonight.

We get back to the house. "Your house is so clean! For someone who is so busy, there's nothing out of place."

"I don't like a mess."

"Oh really."

"Yeah."

"So why are you cheating then?"

I pull her to me. She pushes a hand gently against my chest. "Why do you always try to kiss me when I mention your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend. Anymore."

"What happened?"

"We disagreed on where the relationship was going."

Fuck. Now I need a good half hour to let things blow over before I move in again. This sucks.

I put on my "Forty Days and Forty Nights" DVD (Totally stupid, dumbass movie, but perfect for you guys who are looking to score, BTW). We watch for about an hour or so. Suddenly she is laying across the couch with her head in my lap.

I am insane with desire. I can't hear the movie anymore, just the pounding of the blood through my veins.

"Hey," I say.

She turns her head and looks up at me. I kiss her. Her tongue slides wetly into my mouth. Yum.

The kissing gets louder and wetter and faster and more urgent. I run my hand along her stomach and onto her tit. I squeeze, and she doesn't stop me.

Yeah, I'm having sex tonight.

She unbuttons and unzips me. I lift my hips up off the couch and she pulls my boxers down. My cock is long and hard, as if it's angry for being neglected for so long. "God," she says.

She looks up at me with her big hazel eyes. "Do you shave?" she asks.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I don't like looking like a billy goat down there," I say.

"It's kind of nice, not having all that hair around," she says. "I like it!"

"How about you? Do you shave?" I say.

"Behave!" she says.

She runs her index finger up and down my shaft. If I don't come soon I feel like I am going to explode.

She looks up at me and smiles again, a beautiful, happy smile. I watch intently as she bends over and slowly feeds my cock into her mouth, working her lips over it like a giant stick of gum.

There is no popsicle-licking today. She is deep-throating me all the way. She's being more aggressive this time; I can feel the tip of my head hitting the back of her throat, hard, and there is no trace of a gag reflex.

The wet, squishy sound of her sucking makes me even hornier, if that is possible. She tilts her head back and stares at me while my bone slides smoothly in and out of her mouth.

I am going to come. There is no way I'm going to be able to hold out. I start to tell her, and she pulls it out. Some girls just know when a guy is about to blow his load.

Looks like I'm not getting laid after all.

She licks the tip, just a little, and strokes it gently with two fingers and a thumb. She looks up at me, smiles, and covers her eyes as I come. It's all over her cheek, and her chin, and the floor, too. And I am still hard.

I stop coming, and laugh out loud. So does she. She uncovers her eyes. "A-ha, you missed my eyes that time," she smiles.

"You shoulda told me, I would've let you borrow my weed-whacking goggles," I say.