Club Desire(10)

By: Amy Brent




Stacey and I would definitely continue our little party at another time. For now, I’d let her hang around until the seminar was done, then gently send her on her way before the boys and I shoved off for Club D for the weekend.


At the moment, however, Stacey would just have to stew in her own juices. I was far more interested in watching Amy Rossetti do her thing on stage.





Chapter 4: Amy


The talk at IDS went off without a hitch, as all my talks usually did. I’d given a dozen TED Talks around the country on the topics of hacking and cybersecurity, not to mention over a hundred keynotes for private organizations and large corporations. These days I almost made more money talking about cybersecurity than actually fighting it, which was just fine with me. It was easy money, no pressure, even when I had someone like Isaac Hanson and the blonde reporter sitting on the front row chit-chatting like high schoolers at an assembly for the first few minutes.


I managed to stare them into silence as I spoke. I caught Isaac’s eye and he shushed the blonde who was whispering in his ear. I was sure it wasn’t the first time he’d told her what to do with her mouth.


That said, I could feel him watching me as I spoke, his eyes following me as I moved across the stage. It was distracting at first, like trying to ignore a sniper rifle’s laser dot dancing on your chest, but after a moment, I found the attention… exciting.


Knowing that his eyes were on me was exhilarating, even sensual in a way. Was he undressing me with his eyes or was that just my hopeful imagination? Should I be offended by his stare or flattered by it? Was his mind on my words or on my body? And more to the point, where did I want his eyes and hands and mind to be? I ignored the heat between my legs and pushed on through.


After my talk, I noticed that Isaac was quick to leave the room with the blonde on his arm. I sighed a little as I watched him escort her up the aisle and out the door. I chastised myself for even thinking Isaac Hanson put more stock in brains that beauty. He was no different than most other men on the planet. He had a cock, which he let alternate control with his brain. He was watching my tits and ass the entire time I was onstage, then he grabbed Stacey what’s her name for a little game of “hide the sausage” in his private elevator or his corner office.


Bastard!


Men were pigs!


Isaac Hanson was just a rich pig…


A really, really, really good looking, rich pig…


And I was… shit… no way…


I was jealous of Stacey what’s her name…


* * *


I spent another hour doing Q&A with the audience, then got the envelope containing my check from Louise and headed back to my office downtown. Isaac Hanson was still on my mind—and I was still oddly furious with him—but I had managed to push him into a dark corner of my brain to keep him out of the way of the important things I had going on. I had the sinking feeling that he would creep his way back into my thoughts, maybe later on tonight.


Amy Rossetti & Associates had offices in a ten-story glass building that housed several dozen tech start-ups and the venture capital firm that funded them all. The only reason my offices were there was because I’d saved the venture firm’s ass more than once after they had been hacked. The CEO tried to hire me as a formal employee, which I declined despite the high six-figure salary, so he opted to put me on retainer, and part of the deal was the free office space, which they could have easily rented out for fifty-grand a month.


Again, it was a prestigious address, but it was all for show. There were four offices with fictitious names and titles on the doors, the reception area where Serena sat behind the desk, and my office, a space twice as large as I actually needed, but it fit the profile of a high-caliber tech consultant such as myself. Smoke and mirrors, baby. Smoke and mirrors.


The suite also came furnished with high-end furniture and fixtures that made my stuff at home seem like yard sale fare. I slid into the two-thousand-dollar Hermann Miller chair behind the six-thousand-dollar glass desk and kicked off my shoes. I sat rubbing my feet as Serena came in to set a fresh cup of coffee on the desk. She plopped down in a chair across the desk and let her perfectly-manicured eyebrows go up and held out her hand and wiggled her fingers at me. I reached inside my jacket and handed over the envelope containing the $50,000 check.


“So, how did it go?” she asked, tucking the envelope into a folder she had sitting on her lap with IDS on the label.


“It went as it always does,” I said with a sigh, sounding completely bored despite the fact that I’d just earned in two hours what it took some people an entire year or more to bring home. “I could give these talks with my eyes closed.”

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