His Every Desire

By: Chloe Cassidy

"Are you looking for something?" he asked.

"No, why do you ask?"

"It seemed like you had lost something for a moment there. I just wanted to check to make sure everything was okay. Those signed documents I mentioned earlier are very important. It's imperative that they reach their destination in time. You wouldn't want Mr. Greene to be disappointed."

"He won't be disappointed," I assured him. "However, I do seem to have lost my cellphone. I don't suppose you've seen it," I asked hopefully.

"Is it inside a pink phone case?" he asked.


Harry Smith pointed at the glass wall that separated Taylor Greene's private office from his staff, including me.

"I can see a pink phone case on top of Mr. Greene's desk, but there would be no reason why you were in his office. So it can't be yours," he said.

"Exactly," I agreed as I looked longingly at my cellphone behind the glass wall. I was relieved when Harry Smith walked away, but I needed to go retrieve my cell phone. It was sitting on a stack of papers. My luck seemed to be changing for the better. I could retrieve my phone and the missing signed documents at one time.

I felt pretty foolish about leaving my phone in Taylor Greene's office. When I had arrived at work earlier that morning, I had a hot cup of coffee and a paper bag in my hand. Not wanting to eat my breakfast at my desk where anyone could come along and ruin it, I had snuck into the luxurious unlocked office where I could sit and enjoy my breakfast without interruption. I brought the signed documents with me as a little reading material while I enjoyed my meal. The documents turned out to be dull as dishwater. I dropped them forgotten on the desk and nursed my flavored coffee, hazelnut, my favorite.

Sitting at Taylor Greene's massive desk, I had stared out the window and watched the city that lay outside the huge pane of glass. The people moving on the streets below looked tiny like ants. Little yellow taxis spotted the landscape. It was an impressive view. I made a mental note to spend more time in this office. It was truly grand, and Taylor didn't even seem to appreciate it. He was never even there.

Hours after enjoying breakfast at Taylor Greene's desk, I prepared to enter the room again. I wasn't too worried. If the events of the past were any indication, it would be a long time before Taylor came to the office. He was no doubt off at an important meeting, buying, selling, wheeling, dealing or making sweet love on a conference table somewhere. I laughed to myself. From what I had heard, Taylor Greene was probably not the lovemaking type. He wouldn't make love. He would fuck, and he would fuck hard. He probably liked his sex the way he liked his business deals; ruthless and powerful.

I waltzed into his office like I belonged there. Instead of making a beeline to the desk that held my cellphone, I walked around the circumference of the big room. I had never been in the Oval Office, but I felt certain it was shabby compared to this grand setting.

As I admired the juxtaposition of glass and mahogany, I closed the blinds that ran along the glass wall separating Taylor's office from his employees. No one would dare enter his office uninvited, so the closed blinds would prevent busybodies from watching me while I poked around.

With the blinds closed, I approached the desk to fetch my cell and those important boring documents. Something in the corner of the room caught my eye. I diverted my attention to a large wooden wardrobe that stood by itself against the place where the glass window met the mahogany paneled wall. It was smooth and polished. I wondered if it was a huge humidor stuffed with Cuban cigars or just a climate-controlled place where Taylor Greene could store his spare $10,000 William Fioravanti suits.

I ran my hand over the smooth, polished wood. Without thinking, I placed my hand on the doorknob and pulled. It was locked. I felt wildly disappointed that a door that I shouldn't be opening in a room where I shouldn't be standing refused to open to me.

I returned to the desk and began trying the drawers. The first and second drawers were locked. The third slid open beneath my hand. I was pleasantly surprised. Before my eyes even had a chance to drink in the drawer's contents, I heard the unmistakable sound of a hand turning the latch on the door. It could only be Taylor.

There was no place to hide. I already knew the door to the wardrobe was locked, and kneeling beneath the desk could place me in a very compromising position if Taylor sat in his big leather office chair. My eyes were still scanning the room, looking for options, when he walked inside.

Taylor Greene was everything the office gossips claimed and more. I had never gotten a close look at him before. He was usually just a disembodied suit disappearing though an office door. Today, he was entering through that same door, but I was on the wrong side. The first thing he saw upon entry was my face. I tried to look tough.

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