Arin

Roger Murphy was my mystery caller. I had phone sex with my boss. Of all the men in the world and town, the one call that came through to me was of Rogers'.

Not that I assumed it to be Henry Cavill on the other end but Roger!

How on earth did he end up getting my call center's number?

Worst of all - I couldn't bring myself to attend his calls anymore.

Though he paid me generously and talked to me like nobody else, that little gesture was soon marred when my mind tossed up troubling thoughts.

Did he assume I was a whore?

Someone who didn't have enough money?

Or did he merely take pity on me; on my current state?

Would he call me again? That question troubled me more. What would I say if he did indeed call?

Roger was my rude boss in the office. That man was arrogant as hell and was known to make people's lives miserable, just to get his way around. His temper tantrum wasn't something new either. His usual acts - tossing things in the air whenever he was agitated, coupled with his sarcastic retorts - weren't new to any of us.

He seemed different on the call. Calm and composed like a tamed man, he knew his verbal abilities had the power to make any woman come undone.

God!

The only respite for me was knowing he didn't know my identity.

The tall, broad-shouldered Roger whose ice blue eyes and stoic demeanor used to stop me from speaking, breathing normally during dictation, now became the man whose calls I was looking forward to. Every time my phone displayed anything, my heart would launch up, only to fall back into a dark bottomless pit upon knowing it wasn't him.

What worked for me while attending calls was imagining that my callers were inanimate. With Roger, I kissed goodbye to that assumption. His chiseled jawline and that thousand-watt smile with a soft dent on his cheek created by a perfect dimple would be an imagination difficult to wipe out during calls.

Needing to wrap my head around the knowledge I possessed, my immediate want to call the operator after entering my apartment seemed to fade away.

Was I ready for another call?

The law graduate that I was, approaching the problem with a pros and cons list made more sense. Yet, of all the weighing and evaluations, money spoke volumes in helping my decision.

Money - since I was knee-deep in student debt and my mother's medical bills which kept piling on even after her death - played the tipping point in getting me ready to talk to Roger again.

Was a part of me glad? Not sure.

After a quick shower, I dialed the operator and waited patiently for her to connect my calls.

My apartment was cozy, like those matchbox houses in the movie Ratatouille. There wasn't much floor space for me to jog around but whatever was available, I made my living in it. Every time my vision landed on my phone screen, butterflies and moths fluttered from my gut to my chest and wreaked havoc inside me.

It was a different thrill in playing this game, knowing the client while he didn't know me.

My phone rang. I launched up and onto my phone like a predator pouncing on its prey. Checking if my jerk reaction broke my device in two, I saw the flashing digits. The fluttering inside my gut died a terrible death.

"Hello, Mr. Lucas," I put on a seductive voice and fell back in my chair, closing my eyes shut.

"Hello, Mi Amor."

Lucas, a pseudo name, had been a regular caller. He's been calling me every alternate day. I completely forgot about his call, being engrossed in Mr. Murphy's thoughts.

"So what's the special request for today, Lucas?"

"Ohh nothing fancy." He spoke in his thick Italian accent. "Just the usual...with a bit of public seeing me naked."

"We can have sex while on the balcony of a hotel from where we can see the entire Milan square. And the tourists can see us."

I remembered every tiny detail of my caller's likes, dislikes and kinks. It was as if my brain has nothing good to store. Lucas liked having sex in public. Mr. Vane - a caller from all Fridays - liked to cuss every filthy word while doing me. Roger... Well, right on cue, my mystery caller made his appearance back in my mind.

I took deeper breaths, palming the speaker, before clearing my throat and my mind off my boss's image.

Words refused to escape from my mouth, which before yesterday came out freely. It felt as if I didn't want to talk dirty to Lucas or anyone.

Someone who was in this business before me and who left it all for a happy married life told me this call game was fun till we knew of our client's identity. Once we discovered that Holy Grail of information, everything would change.

And change it did.

Till yesterday, I'd followed her instructions religiously. I'd never entertained any photo requests or video calls from my clients. Hell, I even carried a second phone just to ensure my personal and professional life didn't mix.

But as fate would have it, I inadvertently saw Roger's credit card statement. The man who held the power to break my vow of never having phone sex with my clients.

Now I felt sick, playing games with anyone else.

But why was I fretting so much? Roger barely cared. He didn't even call. It was a one-time thing for him.

Roger was a dropper. And the secret of attending his call was a secret I'd take with me to my grave.

"Are you there, Mi Amor?" Lucas asked. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Lucas." I came back to reality. "So let's see. Imagine yourself on a balcony, wrapped in a towel. Only a towel. I walk in from behind with nothing on me but a satin sheet wrapped around me."

"Did we have sex before too?" He questioned with an obvious excitement springing in his voice.

"Yes, we did, honey. Now it's round two."

"Great. I love it when you make me feel invigorated by taking you twice."

"Yes, I know. Now shut up and listen," I spoke rudely.

God, did I just snap at him? Fuck! What's wrong with me?

"I love it when you scold me. Yell at me more."

Wow. he didn't take offence.

"Okay, Lucas. You idiot, Do you want to fuck me on the balcony or not?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"Then listen carefully while touching yourself."

"Yessss..."

I knew that sound. He had started. "I drop the sheet and bend down to suck your enlarged dick. Drop your towel, Lucas."

"Dropppeeeddd.."

"Now I take your huge cock in my mouth and suck it. You hold my head as you deep throat me and I chock on your enlarged dick," I whispered.

"Fuuucckk fuuucckkk," he moaned in pleasure.

He was about to release. It would barely take a few more seconds. "Annnddd then I touch your balls."

"Gooooddddddd mi amor.. Ahhh... you are the best," his breath hitched as he spoke. He had orgasmed.

"I know, honey."

"Did you release?" He panted.

"Ohh yesssssssss. I did as you..."

"Really baby?" The sweet man that he was, he always confirmed. "I hope I was good."

The word baby reminded me of a husky voice calling me Babydoll.

Fuck. Roger get out of my fucking head.

"Yes honey," I put on a seductive voice. "You, as always, rocked my world."

"Okay, talk to you the day after," Lucas's ragged breath hit the speaker. "Bye baby."

After ending the call, I dialed up my operator.

Today was too much to handle and I needed a clear head to think about things. With the operator enquiring about my call, I delivered a lie. A soar throat was a good reason to not attend any more calls.

I fell back to my bed, flipping my phone's lights on and expecting a certain someone to call me. Roger could make me feel lost with just one call. One fucking call and he got inside my mind and tweaked things around.

Sleep took over in no time.

It was the streaming sunlight from the crack in my window that slapped me up instead of the usual alarm. The first thing I did was pull up my phone. Hopelessly scrolling through the missed call logs, I felt a knot in my stomach. Nobody called. No messages.

Nothing.

I put on a brave face and went to work, reminding me constantly of the dropper concept. Roger would remain a beautiful memory and probably one day, I would laugh about it. It was the reassurance which prepared me to face the day.

I had to force myself to think of nothing but work. By evening, my clouded thoughts would calm and I would have thrown out an impossible perception of getting another call from Roger, out of my mind.

I was in the lobby, waiting for the lift when I heard heels clacker on the marble.

Georgia hopped over to my side, waving at me.

"Good morning, Gorgeous," her cheerful voice greeted me. We got inside the life and she pulled me to a corner, even when it was empty. "Guess what Philip from sales told me yesterday?"

Philip from sales was Georgia's go-to guy whenever she got stood up on dates. Poor bloke had been madly in love with her since the first day he laid eyes on her. She knew it but decided to keep him on her hooks.

"Cut the guy some slack, babes. Go on just for one date. He would die of happiness."

"Ohh, don't worry." She swished the air around, waving her hands. "I keep him entertained in my ways."

I didn't get what she meant, but hey... who was I to sort the messes of her life when mine lay directionless.

"So what did Philip say?"

Before she could speak, the life doors revved open.

Dalia walked inside and turned to us while pulling tags off her brunette ponytail.

Roger has four assistants. The personal assistant; Georgia, Mrs. Rose; the secretary, me; the Steno and a fourth one who only had one purpose. That fourth one - Dalia - was someone who never worked a day yet got promoted.

As the lift closed again, she winked and set off a crooked smile with her bass voice saying, "Hey girls."

Georgia mouthed 'later', escaping with me to our floor. I checked the time and dashed towards my desk.

"Good Morning Mrs. Rose," I waved at her while punching in for the day, tossing my sneakers off to get into heels while parallelly switching on my laptop.

"Arin," she responded without looking. "How are you?"

My tasks came to a standstill.

Good morning from Mrs. Rose meant it was a really good morning. Just 'Morning' or simply my name meant only one thing. Catastrophe.

"Where is the fire?" I asked and she was quick to point towards Roger's office. Loud voices boomed from inside. "Whose is it?" I leaned over the partition of her cubicle. Her eyes, like mine, were glued to the door.

"His father," she unfurrowed her eyebrows with her two fingers. "And as usual, it had thrown Roger off his game."

"Yikes."

Roger and his father - Brandon - have never seen eye to eye. They have always been at loggerheads. Brandon transferred all this business to Roger when he went to rehab.

Since his return, Roger turned into a ticking timebomb and we all walked around on eggshells.

The door opened wide and out moved Brandon. As he walked past, I noticed his salt-peppered hair, a rather saggy jawline with what could be a couple of days old stubble. He must have seen me gawking for his crooked smiling addressed me before he whooshed past.

Within seconds, I heard my name. "Arin."

Roger yelled at the top of his lungs. The tremors of his voice shook the nearby planters.

I picked up my notepad and ran inside, panting after crossing the threshold. "Yes, Sir."

"I need you to type a letter for me to our attorneys." Roger walked in circles around his desk, rubbing the back of his neck to the point of turning it into a shade of crimson. One more rub and I was sure he would bleed it out.

When Roger tossed his fuming stare at me, words escaped. "What will it say?"

"I want to sue Brandon for every penny. I want to make him pay for what he did."

**

Hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Why do you think Roger wants to sue his father? Any guesses?

Do let me know in the comments.

Also, I hope you check out my other works too 😊