The Pleasure Of Submission Ch 1 free porn video

“Who is that white man talking to the curator and the mayor?”  Deenisha Jefferson asked her co-worker. 

“Girl, you don’t know?  That’s Patrick McDarment.”  Stephanie replied.

“No, can’t be.”  Deenisha, Dee to her friends, replied and looked across the room once more at the three men.   “He is older than that man…least I thought so.”

The man Dee was asking about looked to be in his early thirties.  He stood about six foot two inches tall, his navy blue pinstriped suit appeared to be tailored to fit his seemingly athletic body.  Dee knew clothes and she knew that suit was not something off the rack and probably cost more than she would see in two months working her two jobs.  She thought he was rather attractive with light brown hair cut short in a professional style, “well for an older white man.”  She thought.  Dee was not attracted to white men and surely not attracted to older men.

Another thing that set the white man apart was that he was one of the few white people in the room.  Most of the guests for the Harriett Tubman Museum were black, including the mayor. 

Dee herself was a young black girl of twenty and she was wearing the formal uniform of the catering company she worked for.  White, button-down, short sleeve blouse with a black bow tie at her collar; it was a clip-on since she did not know how to tie a bow tie.  Her black pencil skirt came about four inches above her knees and the fit accented her butt very well; she wore black thigh high stockings; pantyhose were the norm for most of the girls but she hated pantyhose, and she wore black three-inch high heels.

Stephanie giggled as she handed Dee a serving tray holding some crab puffs.  “I swear that’s him.  Why do you ask?” 

Dee took the tray, “Because he keeps looking at me.  Not in a pervy way but I just noticed he keeps glancing at me every time I catch his eye.”

“Fuck, Dee, every guy I here is looking at you.  You are hot and you got it goin on and that skirt makes your ass pop.”  Stephanie winked at Dee, “Hell, bitch, I thought about hittin that ass myself.”  

Dee blushed but giggled.  She was used to Stephanie’s harmless flirtations by now.  She liked Stephanie even if Dee thought she was “ghetto”, but the ghetto did not bother her, after all, Dee herself grew up in the "projects" of Albany, Georgia and most of the girls she knew there and were friends with were “ghetto”. 

 "No, it's not like that.  It’s more like…I don’t know…like he is amused by me or something," Dee commented. 

Dee was indeed “hot” and “had it goin on” as Stephanie put it.  She stood five feet three inches tall, weighed one hundred and twenty-five pounds, and curves in all the right places.  Her breasts were thirty-four B cups; perfect for her height and they were perfectly rounded and perky and slightly curved upwards at her dark nipples.  The men she had, had sex with in the past seemed to find that very sexy.  Her waist was thin, but it was her ass that men and even some women like Stephanie liked about her physical features.  Her hips were not extremely wide at thirty-four inches, but she had a nice bubble to her butt that when seen from the side stuck out some.  There was no sag to her ass and it was nice and tight.  Dee’s legs were very nicely shaped with slightly thicker thighs than white girls her size plus they just seemed to enhance the allure of her butt.  Dee's thirty-four, twenty-four, thirty-four figure attracted a lot of attention.  

Besides her body, her face drew a lot of attention also.  Dee was a very lovely looking young black girl with a rich cocoa skin tone and flawless smooth complexion.  She had slightly almond-shaped eyes that were a dark brown and surrounded by thick long lashes.  Her brothers used to tease her about her nose and lips when she was younger, calling it a white person’s nose because it was small and thin and her lips were naturally pouty.  Tonight at work she wore her kinky, curly, black hair down.  It fell several inches past her shoulders and was all-natural, Dee did not do hair extension and her perfectly manicured nails were real.  Yes, with her lovely face, her blemish-free complexion, and her body; Dee attracted looks of admiration from all races.  Dee was truly a beautiful young girl of color.   

Stephanie snatched the Hors d'oeuvres tray from Dee and handed her a tray holding filled Champagne flutes.  “He looks like he needs a refill.  Take these over and let him see your goods.  The man is worth a fortune and maybe he is in the market for a sexy, black sugar baby.” 

Dee blushed again, “I don’t need money bad enough to fulfill some older white man’s fetish of being with a black girl regardless of how much money he has.”

Stephanie laughed, “Yeah you do.  You need to pay for that fancy college somehow.  Plus he ain’t that bad looking.  He is very attractive and from what they write about him he exercises a lot and does all kinds of physical activities.”  Stephanie winked.  “He may surprise you in bed, he is not that old and won’t need Viagra for a lot more years.”  

“Ewww.”  Dee made a face and walked over to the man who was the subject of their conversation; carrying the serving tray. 

Dee brought the tray to the three men.  The two black men, the mayor and the curator took their glasses and both roamed their eyes up and down Dee's body; that did not upset Dee; she was used to such looks by most men especially black men.  White men looked at her with that same look also but they were more discreet with it because Dee was not some light-skinned black girl that white men would openly stare at without being judged by their friends.  Patrick on the other hand looked into Dee’s eyes without them running up and down her body and smiled at her.

“Thank you, young lady.” 

"Yes thank you," The mayor muttered and went back to his conversation with the curator.

"You are welcome, sir,"  Dee said politely as her job required and walked away blushing.

She did not blush at the other two men’s looks but how Patrick stared into her eyes with his deep piercing blue eyes.  It annoyed her that he made her blush for no reason and it irritated her how he looked at her several times that night.  It was not a look of lust; that she knew from men, but like he was summing her up.  She decided she did not care too much for Patrick McDarment at all.

Hours later after the fundraiser was over and Dee helped clean up she was standing in front of the museum leaning against the wall with her bow tie off and holding her heels in her hands.  Her feet hurt and she wanted to get home but her roommate was late in picking her up.  Dee's car was once again in the shop and as she thought about how many hours of overtime she would have to work at her second job to pay for it her anger at her roommate grew.  She started to type yet another text to her roommate.

“Do you need a ride?”  A male voice startled her and she dropped her shoes.

Dee looked over and saw Patrick standing at the entrance to the museum.  “Umm…no,” she replied and bent down to pick up her shoes and got one but before she could pick up the other shore Patrick bent over and picked it up and handed it to her.

“Thank you.” 

“My pleasure.  Are you sure you don’t need a ride?” 

Dee looked at him and he had his suit jacket off and slung over his shoulder and his tie loosened.  He was smiling at her and Dee thought he had a very nice smile and his teeth were white and perfectly straight.  She felt her irritation for him stir once more.

“My grandmother taught me not to accept rides with strangers,"  Dee told him curtly.

Patrick laughed a deep manly laugh.  “Or candy either I imagine.  My mother taught me the same thing when I was five, but I was not offering to drive you myself.  I called an Uber because I had too much Champagne and the driver could drop you off after he dropped me off or vice versa depending on where you live.”  He then grinned at Dee. “But then again I suppose technically if you took a ride from an Uber you would be taking a ride from a stranger.”

Dee giggled despite herself and then sobered up quickly.  She liked Patrick's southern accent, it was not that strong twangy accent of the white boys from her home town in Albany or the deeper accent of the whites in Macon where she currently lived and went to school.  His accent was more subtle and flowed like honey, the accent of the coastal part of the state; the Low Country.

“See that’s the smile,”  he told her.

“Excuse me?”   Dee’s voice held a hint of anger.  She could feel the white man’s arrogance in the air.

"Your smile just now was natural and nice, unlike the way you smiled all night when you were working.  Those were forced.  You have a very nice smile, Deenisha.” 

"How did you know my name?"  Dee asked, her irritation ever-growing.

Patrick gave her a cocky smile and tapped his left breast with his right hand. "Nametag," he told her.

Dee blushed as she looked at her chest and saw her name tag.  “Oh.”  The young black girl felt embarrassed and Dee did not like to be embarrassed.

“Mr. McDarment…oh yes I know your name also…I don’t know what you want from me, why you were staring at me all night but whatever the reason I am not interested.  I don’t date or hook up with white men or older men in general.”  Dee told him.  "I don't just do hookups anyway either.  I am not that type of girl."

Patrick laughed again and Dee knew he was laughing at her and that aroused her anger even more.  She wished her roommate would hurry up and get arrive so she could get away from this attractive, arrogant, rich, man who for some reason annoyed her.

“Well that’s good to know that you are a young lady with moral standards but I am not interested in a hook up either and I have never dated a black girl or a girl much younger than me.  I was just offering someone who appeared needed a ride some help."  Patrick's voice held no anger and was calm and even amused sounding and that tone just infuriated Dee even more.  "And I was not staring at you all night as you say and if you thought I was then it was a figment of your imagination or maybe even wishful thinking.”  He gave her that irritating cocky smile. 

“And just what is wrong with black girls that you don’t want to date them?”  Dee asked and immediately regretted it.

Patrick laughed once more at her, "I could ask you the same question about white men."  He raised an eyebrow at her, "but I won't.  We will just agree that we both have our preference when it comes to dating."

“You call it preference but maybe there is a better term for it.  Maybe you don’t date black girls because you think being white makes you too good to date black girls.”

“Why, Deenisha, are you calling me a racist?”  Patrick asked, again amused at the pretty young black girl.

Dee was about to respond and even get angry at the man, even though she knew her anger was unjustified, but he just made her mad for some reason.  She did not mean to imply he was racist; she did not even know the man.  Dee was not a type of girl to judge people based on the color of their skin and unlike some of her friends and family, she was not really into any of the current social movements or very political.  The man just infuriated her for a reason she could not explain; plus she was tired having worked her first job that day and then her catering job.  A sound of a car horn saved her from any other embarrassment and she was relieved to see her roommate pull up.

“Excuse me, my ride is here.”

Dee left the white man waiting for his Uber.

As tired as she was, Dee could not sleep even after a hot shower.  She tossed and turned in her bed thinking of how she embarrassed herself with Patrick.  He consumed her thoughts and that made her angry at him even more although he did nothing wrong.  Maybe she did imagine he was looking at her all night.  Maybe it was just her imagination.  All he did was offer her help.

“Grrr…fuck him!”  She said aloud and tossed her bed covers off her body and got out of bed. 

Dee got out of bed, picked up her laptop from the small desk in her room, and got back in bed.  She used her pillows to prop herself up against her headboard and did a google search for "Patrick McDarment".

She of course knew a little about him; most everyone did especially if you went to Mercer University in Macon, Georgia as she did.  He was a graduate of the private college and one of its largest financial supporters and most famous alumni.  There was even a building named after him in the engineering department.  She turned her attention to the Wikipedia page about him.

There was very little on his early life; just a small paragraph reading he was born in Savannah, Georgia, and joined the Marine Corps at age eighteen.  The section on his military career was also brief; reading he served during the second Gulf War, fought in the Second Battle of Fallujah, received the Navy Cross for valor in combat, and a Purple Heart for being wounded in combat, impressive Dee thought.  She continued to read; after he got out of the Marine Corps Patrick attended Mercer University in Macon, Georgia to attend their engineering school.  While still a student he invented several apps for smartphones and sold them for a great deal of money, but his notoriety came when he invented an app he sold to the government for a huge sum of money.  Patrick graduated with a degree in software engineering but instead furthering his education after being offered acceptance in several notable engineering schools across the country; Patrick started his own company.  He became very successful in several areas of business and engineering.  Dee let out a long whistle when she read about his estimated financial worth.  He was certainly an elite one-percenter.  

Dee found it odd that in his “personal life” section there was no mention of him dating or having a girlfriend because even though he was white he was a handsome man; “Maybe he is gay,” she thought.  She next looked images of him at various functions and events and the only photos she saw of him with a female was a tall very pretty blonde woman about his age.  “Well there goes the gay theory”, she thought.  That must be his girlfriend.   Dee yawned and closed her laptop and finally fell asleep.

Four days later, on a Wednesday, Dee was in the living area of her two-bedroom apartment she shared with her roommate/sorority sister Felicia watching television and eating a bowl of cereal to kill tome before she had to go to work.  It took her two days to get over her irritation of the white man.  Her cell phone chimed and she picked it up without bothering to look at the caller ID.

“Hello.”

“Deenisha, this is Patrick McDarment.  I am going to be at the Decadent at Mercer Village in about twenty minutes.  You know it?” 

"Yes,"  Dee said without thinking.  The Decadent was a coffee and dessert bar that was trendy for Mercer students.

"Be there; I have something I would like to discuss with you,"  Patrick told her.

Dee could not help but notice he was not asking but telling her and his gall and arrogance once again aroused her anger.

“I have to be at work in a little over an hour.  Sorry, can’t be there,”  she told him curtly.

She heard him chuckle, “Sure you can.  Call in sick.  Work is what I want to discuss.  I have a job offer for you and if you don’t take it I will make up for any lost pay you will miss for skipping work today.  I will triple it.”

“And what if I get fired?” 

Again he chuckled at her, “They won’t fire you.  You are the only black waitress at Hooters; they would not dare fire you for missing one day.  But in the small chance they do; I’ll take care of it.”

“How…how did you know I worked at Hooters?”  Dee asked, stunned and a little scared this man may be stalking her; she was also a little embarrassed.  Dee did not like many people knowing she worked at Hooters but a job was a job and she made great tips. 

“I will be there in fifteen minutes now.  I don’t like tardiness,” Patrick told her and hung up.

"Fuck him!"  She said screamed a lot.  "Who the fuck does this son of a bitch, cracker, white mother fucker think he is!"  Her ghetto was coming out of her as it did some times when she was very mad or overly excited.  She hated it when it did.

Dee took a deep breath to calm down.  She looked at the time on her phone.  “Fuck!”  She screamed again.  From her apartment on Orange Street in downtown Macon, she could be at the coffee house in about eight to ten minutes, but she would not have time for makeup or to do her hair.

“Mother fucker!”  She yelled again and quickly got up and changed out of her lounge pants and clean but stained comfortable tee shirt into a pair of jean shorts and a much nicer tee shirt that was pink and had her sorority letters AKA across the front.  She gathered her hair up into a ponytail that made the hair tight and straight against her scalp and then fizzled out her kinky hair into a busy tail after the hair tie.  She wrote a quick note to her roommate that added if her body was found in a dumpster have the police question Patrick McDarment; she was only half-joking.  Dee put the note on the refrigerator and slipped on a pair of sandals, grabbed her car keys, phone, and purse, and left her apartment.

Dee started her car and gave a silent prayer of thanks that it started.  The mechanic at the shop told her the day before when she picked it up that her car was on its last leg.  On the drive, she thought why she was meeting this asshole and deiced it was curiosity.  They were meeting in a public place so she was not scared.  On the drive over she called her manager and told him she would not be coming in today.  He got mad and threatened to fire her, but Patrick was right; he did not fire her.  Plus it was a Wednesday and they would not be overly busy.

Dee made it to the coffee house in six minutes.  She found a good parking space in the side lot; school had just started their summer break so Mercer Village was not very crowded.  Most of the people there were locals and not students.  As she walked down the sidewalk past the other shops and restaurants, Dee drew looks from men and she regretted grabbing the first set of clothes she could get her hands on.  Her shorts were not to short but that were short enough to show off upper thighs and tight around her butt and her tee-shirt was maybe too tight.  Even without makeup, she knew she was pretty.

Dee had a natural beauty to her and she wore very little makeup; only enough to enhance her looks.  At times she used heavy makeup for the right occasions; clubbing, social events where she wanted to look extra nice, on dates, etc.  She smiled as she saw two white teenage boys looking at her body and saw them talking to one another after they admired her and giggled when she walked by a young white couple and the man looked at her ass and the girl he was with slapped his on the shoulder for it. 

Dee was not a vain person at all, but like most people, she enjoyed that others found her attractive and she knew her ass could fill a pair of pants or shorts to perfection.  As she stepped into the coffee shop she was now glad she wore the clothes she had on.  "Show that white son of a bitch how good black girls can look.  Fuck him and his 'I don't date black girls bullshit'!"  She thought.  "Will be good to let that arrogant bastard see what he can't have.  He fucking knows he wants it.  Work my ass, he thinks just cause he is some rich white fucker he can get this.  Well, fuck him."  

Dee sat down at a table and calmed herself down.  She did not want to get all worked up and let her ghetto attitude come out.  She wanted to show him that she was a proper young black lady just like her grandmother taught her to be.

Dee grew up in the poor black area of Albany, Georgia; the “projects”.  And they were just that, project housing.  She was the youngest child and only daughter of her single mother; with four older brothers.  She never knew her dad and she shared the same father with only one of her brothers; the other three all had different fathers.  Her mother was a drunk, addict, sometimes a prostitute to pay for her habit and at one time was very pretty like Dee, but over time drugs and alcohol took their toll on her.  Two of her brothers were in the local chapter of the Crip street gang and spent their days selling drugs and fighting and other gang activities.  One was in the Army and the oldest was in the state prison in Reidsville, Georgia on two accounts of first-degree homicide serving a double life sentence.  He would have gotten the death penalty but the two boys he killed were black rival gang members and to the D.A what were two fewer black gangbangers on the street so they took the death penalty off the table if he pled guilty.  He did not have much of a choice to plead out.  He killed the two other black boys execution-style in the middle of the day on a public street with plenty of witnesses.     

When she was eleven, Dee's grandparents took her out of her mother's home and raised her; not wanting her to end up like the other girls in the projects; getting pregnant at fifteen, on drugs, being a whore to be passed around by the boys in the gangs, being pimped out, or worse…dead.  Dee's grandfather owned a small local grocery and was well respected in the local community.  He even had the respect and fear of the young boys in the neighborhood. 

Her grandfather was “Old G” and in his younger days had the reputation of one not to be fucked with.  He served eight years in prison on a manslaughter charge and came out a reformed man.  He now spent his time operating his store, trying to help reform the black youths of his community, active in local politics, was active in the Civil Rights movement, and in his church.  Dee's grandfather did not teach her hate in any way and did not teach her to hate the white race but be wary of them also, and to be proud of her heritage and race.  He taught her to accept people for who they were and by their actions and not by the color of their skin.  

Dee’s grandmother was of a different breed.  She was a kind soul who was very ladylike, charming, and a devout Southern Baptist.  She felt she failed in her daughter, her only child, and failed in her grandsons, but she was determined not to fail her only granddaughter.  She raised Dee to be a proper lady, to not speak like the young girls, her peers and friends and curse all the time or use ghetto slang, and to speak proper grammar.  To say “yes sir”, “no sir”, “yes ma’am”, and “no ma’am”; to have proper etiquette and manners and raised Dee to be a proper young lady.  Dee was so in awe of her grandmother that accepted what her grandmother taught her enthusiastically. 

Dee’s grandparents were not naïve and they knew the struggles their granddaughter was going to face being raised in the projects and poverty.   They taught her about the peer pressure of drugs, alcohol, sex, and what it was like for a young pretty black girl being surrounded by the type of friends she was going to have.  Dee was embarrassed when her grandmother gave her “the talk” but listened to her about the safe sex, getting pregnant, and STD’s. 

Not to say Dee was perfect.  She had her rebellious stage and she fell for the smooth-talking gangbangers three times.  She dated one who took her virginity, after a while he got bored with her and dumped her.   The next she dated for a long while but cheated on him with a one night stand at a party; surprising her that the boy she cheated on was not all that upset about it when he found out and they continued to date for a while after that.  She broke up with him when he wanted her to have sex with two of his friends aka fellow gang members at a party one night.  Dee had her occasion where she would come home drunk or high on marijuana but she never got into the harder drugs like her friends.  Her rebellious stage was not really against her grandparents, but more to prove to her friends she was not “high cotton” as they often accused her of being and to prove she did not think she was better than they were.

Overall though Dee was a good girl and very intelligent and the work ethics her grandfather imposed on her she took to heart.  She worked hard on her education and graduated valedictorian of her class in high school and was accepted to Mercer University with a substantial academic scholarship.  Mercer was expensive however and even with the scholarship money, Dee struggled to meet the cost.  She refused to take student loans but did receive some help with the Hope Scholarship and Pail Grant, but even with those, she had to work a part-time job during school and two full-time jobs during the summer to save money for the next year.

Patrick arrived promptly with one minute to spare for his twenty-minute deadline.  He was wearing dark sunglasses, a navy blue blazer, a white, starched button-down shirt that was tailored to fit his body, a tie, and dress slacks.  Dee had to agree with Stephanie, for a white man he was very attractive.  There were only four other patrons in the coffee shop that time of day on a weekday so he had no trouble seeing Dee waiting for him.  He gave her his arrogant cocky smile as Dee stood up to greet him and he waved her to sit back down.  He stopped at the counter, removed his sunglasses, and placed an order before he made his way to the table and sat down.

“I ordered you a coffee,” he told her.  “I didn’t know how you took it but I told them to leave room for cream.”

“I don’t like coffee, Mr. McDarment,"  Dee told him flatly.

Patrick smiled, “Yes you do.  I saw you drinking it on your break the other night and its Patrick..” 

"Thought you said you were not spying on me that night?  And speaking of spying, or we just call it stalking where I come from, how did you get my cell number and know I worked at Hooters, Mr. McDarment?”  Dee emphasized his name. 

Patrick sighed, "Are we going to play this game again?  First I was not spying on you, as you put it, at the fundraiser.  I went to the restroom because one of the servers kept plying me with Champagne.”   Patrick grinned at Dee who blushed.  She did indeed serve him several glasses because Stephanie kept sending her over to him. 

Patrick continued, "I was walking past the kitchen area and you screamed when you spilled hot coffee, that you were drinking, on yourself."  Dee blushed again because that was what had happened.  “As for knowing your cell number and that your second job is at Hooters, well that is easy.  I had a background check ran on you.  I do that for all employees or potential employees and the job I am offering you requires a more extensive one.”  He gave her a grin of amusement, "By the way, when you were arrested for shoplifting what did you steal?"

Dee once again felt her anger at this cocky white man build up again, "I did not steal anything.  My friend was the one who stole some two-dollar lipstick but the store clerk and the security guard were white and the store was in a white neighborhood so we were both arrested."  Then something quickly came to her mind, "How did you know about that?  I was fifteen and juvenile records are sealed.” 

“I have connections.”  Patrick paused when his name was called for his order.  He got up and brought two cups of coffee back to the table and half and half.

Dee gave him a dirty look when he handed her the coffee and she used some of the half and half and took a sip.  “So what kind of job?”

“I need a new personal assistant.”  He told her and sipped his coffee that he took black. 

“Why me?”  Dee asked suspiciously. 

“I asked about you.  I am told you are intelligent, hardworking, ethical, and….”

“Black,”  Dee interrupted.  “You need a token black girl to show off.  One from the projects who you can show off and show people how great you are that you saved some poor black girl from a bad life.  I don’t need saving.  I worked hard to get where I am and to better myself and not end up like…I don’t need your job.”

Patrick smiled, “You did not finish; not end up like your brothers or worse your mother.   I told you I did an extensive background check.”  He took another sip of coffee, “And you can cut the poor little black girl from the project routine.  You don’t have a monopoly on poverty; you should see where I grew up.”  He pulled a pen for the inside pocket of his sports coat and wrote something down on a napkin and slid it to Dee.  “That’s what I am offering for your starting salary.”

Dee looked at the napkin and pushed it back to him.  “I make about that much a month now with tips and I don’t have to deal with you.” 

“I am sure you make great tips at Hooters.  You are what, the only black waitress they have and with all due respect with your pretty face and your body I imagine those white rednecks tip you very well, but you don’t make even close to that much a month and we both know it."  Patrick took a sip of his coffee, "Plus Dee, may I call you Dee, that's a week, not a month.  Plus perks and benefits."

Dee was taking a sip of her coffee when Patrick told her that salary was weekly and she came close to choking on it.  She regained her composure quickly.

“I start back to school in the fall.”

Patrick nodded, "Yes, third year and you have hopes of attending law school.  Scored very well on you LSAT I noticed.  You should be proud.  When you start school I will move you to part-time and hire another assistant to help.  You will keep all your benefits."

“Perks and benefits?  I can imagine what those perks and benefits would be for that kind of money.  Seems like you would get all the perks and benefits, Mr. McDarment.”  She emphasized his last name again.   

Patrick laughed and Dee had to admit to herself she liked his laugh.  It was rich and deep and full of humor.   "Don't you have a dirty mind.  No the perks and benefits are not what you are thinking but travel, you do have a passport right?  If not apply for one; I can have the process sped up for you and you should get in a matter of a couple of weeks.  Includes a company car, a very spacious two-bedroom apartment at the Lofts on Cherry with rent and all utilities paid including Wi-Fi, company credit card, first-day health and dental at no cost to you, and other perks you would enjoy."  Patrick looked at his watch.  “I have to go, think about it and let me know. “  He pulled out a business card for his pants pocket wrote something on the back and slid it across the table.  "That's my cell number.  If I don't hear from you by five today then I will give the job to the girl who came in second."  

Dee picked up the card and stared at it as Patrick walked toward the door to the street.  “Can my roommate also live in the apartment?”  She called out.

Patrick turned and smiled at her, “I own the entire building so I don’t care if you have a horse living with you, as long as he does not make too much of a mess.”

Dee smiled at him.  “Mr. Mc…Patrick, when do I start?”

Patrick's smile widened.  "Monday, at nine o'clock."  His smile turned into a grin, "And Dee, we do have a dress code that does not include short jean cutoffs regardless of how good they look on the person."

Dee laughed at his comment about her attire as Patrick walked out of the shop.  She looked at the napkin that her new salary was written on, “Holy shit!”  She exclaimed aloud and blushed when the clerk at the counter asked if there was anything wrong with her coffee. 

Dee went home and told Felicia about her new job and they were moving out of their small, dirty apartment.  Her and Felicia and a few of their sorority sisters who stayed in Macon during the summer break went out and celebrated.  Dee was excited she forgot that she was supposed to go over to see Darius after she got off work for a hookup.

Darius was the third-string quarterback for the football team, Dee could not remember him ever playing in a single game, and her on/off causal relationship "friend".  He was not too happy the next morning when he called her and they got into an argument.  Darius had always wanted to get serious but Dee wanted to keep it casual.  Dee told him about her new job and since he did not seem to care much about it and kept on about missing sex with her the previous night, Dee told him she would call him when he grew up and hung up on him and then called her grandparents and told them the good news.

Dee started her new job wearing an inexpensive pair of dress slacks and a light blue blouse she bought at Target.  She arrived thirty minutes early and met Patrick's secretary, Nancy, an older lady in her early fifties who was very sweet and gave Dee a quick orientation, paperwork to sign, keys to her company car – which had the BMW logo on it, and keys to her new apartment along with a business card for a local moving company who she was to contact to have her and Felicia’s belongings moved into their new apartment; paid for by the company of course.  Patrick arrived at nine sharp all sweaty and wearing a Marine Crops tee shirt and gym shorts.  He told Dee to just have a seat at her new desk outside his office and would be with her after he took a shower in the bathroom of his office and changed clothes.  Dee could not help but notice how athletic his legs and arms muscles were.   

Dee’s desk was in the waiting area of her new boss’s office and across from Nancy’s desk.  Dee fiddled around with her new desk and computer while she waited.  Nancy was busy answering the phone, taking messages, and making phone calls.  She asked if she could be of some help and Nancy smiled and told her no she was fine.  She liked Nancy right off.  She flinched when her phone rang and she picked it up and Patrick told her to come inside his office.

Patrick’s office was huge and had a leather sofa in one corner and he sat behind a large desk in a leather chair.  He had changed into a solid navy blue suit, white shirt stiff with starch, and a dark red necktie.  He smiled at her and waved to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"First, no more pants, and please dear God don't ever wear a pants suit.  Dresses or skirts from now on.”  He told her.

Dee nodded, “Yes, sir.” 

He handed Dee a package.  "That's your cell phone for work.  I preprogrammed my number and a few others of some of my more important clients.  I will give the number to others when I talk to them.  It's for work only and keep it on and charged twenty-four seven."

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Keep your private cell on mute or vibrate while at work.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Inside is also your company credit card.  It has a ten thousand limit.  Try not to spend it all in one day.”  Patrick smiled.

Dee swallowed hard, “ten thousand…shit," She thought.  “Yes, sir.”

Patrick chuckled at the young black girl, "Relax, Dee, it was a joke.  Serious the card is for business only.  Use it for travel, hotels, rental cars, etc. when we have to travel or if I send you to buy stuff for work.  My head accountant can be a real ass about that kind of stuff and he even gives me a hard time about it.  If you ever need personal money let me know.  Don’t spend your own money of work stuff, if you do by mistake or in a pinch fill out an expense report and give it to Nancy.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Nancy gave you the keys to your car and your apartment?”

“Yes, sir.”

"Good.  Your company car is in the parking garage…umm….the second floor I think.  Nancy knows.  She knows everything.  She keeps the place running and be warned she likes to gossip so be careful of any secrets you may want to keep."

Dee smiled, “Yes, sir.”

“Any questions?” 

“No, sir,”  Dee said and then thought for a moment, “Well, yes I do have one.”

“Shoot.”

“What the hell am I supposed to be doing for my job?” 

Patrick laughed and Dee started to laugh.  "Well, my personal assistant is just that.  You are not my secretary, I have Nancy for that.  You go where I go when I tell you to.  You do what I require.  You attend meetings with me and take notes, my clients first contact with me is through you…they always contact you before they call me.  Very few have my personal cell but they will all have your cell number for the phone I just gave you.  I have to go to New York next week and you are going with me.  If I need to go to Madrid or Paris or damn Timbuktu then you go with me.  By the way, did you do your passport paperwork?"

“Yes, sir, I gave it to Nancy.” 

“Good, she knows who to call to speed up the process.  You will learn more as you work for me.   Lot is on the job.”

Dee nodded, “Yes, sir.  Is there anything you need right now?”

"Yeah, there is.  Run down to the first-floor coffee shop and get me a coffee.  I take it.."

“Black, yes, sir.”

Patrick smiled, “Nice.”

Dee grinned back.  "I knew that day in the coffee shop was a test when you ordered coffee."

Patrick raised an eyebrow.  “Oh?”

Dee smiled, "You did not want coffee.  You took only two sips and did not drink it.  They were fake sips.  You never swallowed."

Patrick grinned, “And you wanted to know why I wanted you as my assistant.  You were also right about me staring at you at the Tubman Museum.  I was, but not in the way you thought.  I was observing you and noticed how observant you were with the guests and how just by serving them once you remembered things about them.  Did they drink wine or Champaign?  Was it white or red?  Did they drink alcohol or soft drinks or water and you remembered what kind of drink they had.  That impressed me.”

Dee smiled.“Thank you.” 

“I need someone with that talent.  You will have to be observant and remember what drinks my clients like, what their favorite steak is and how they like it cooked, what flowers their wives favor, and even what perfumes their mistress enjoy."

Dee giggled, “Yes, sir.” 

“Any other questions?” 

"No, sir,"  Dee said and got up and started to walk to the door.

“Oh and Dee?”  She turned her head to face him.  “Take this afternoon off and go buy some new clothes for work.  Nancy has a personal card of mine you can use and go to a better store than Target.”

Dee smiled, “Yes, sir.”  She turned to walk out of the office and then turned back around.  “Mr. McDe…Patrick, how did you know I got these pants at Target?”

Patrick grinned, “You forgot to remove the tag off of them in the back.”

Dee blushed as she hurried out of the office to start her new job.