Bev: The Interview
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Authors: Bobbi Ross
Copyright
Bev: The Interview
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This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
© 2015 Bobbi Ross
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First Digital Edition November 2015
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Bev: The Interview
This self-contained story stars the fan favorite fabulous blue Zedrovian in an adventure all her own.
After outing her dreaded little boss to the universe for the demon she was, Bev was unanimously voted in as the new general manager of the Sol system's premier honeymoon resort on Saturn's largest moon, Titan. With less than a week left before her best friend and now queen of the entire Syalantian Empire leaves for good with her hot new hubby, Bev is called in to corporate's central office...What does the sexy, 6’2’’, delectably debonair director of Extravagance Corporation have in store for her?
Victoria Paisley was stuck. Stuck like gum on the sidewalk or poop on your brand new shoes. All week she’d been working herself up for today. Even wore her new extra naughty purple and black pinstriped Benzidite bra and panties set that came in with last week’s illegal chocolate shipment from Earth. It accentuated her every curve, every asset. The perfect mixture of business and birthday suit she hoped would seal the deal. But it wasn’t time yet.
She mustered every iota of focus to concentrate on the reports in front of her. It was pointless. Useless as those three pronged silver clasp-thingys her company had the misfortune of purchasing 10,000 gross of last year for the employee uniforms.
Whatever happened to those?
She tapped absentmindedly on her data pad flipping through invoices, she was supposed to be done with yesterday. Her mind stuck on permanent vacation regardless of her best efforts. Letters piled on her desk to dizzying heights while emails collected dust on her terminal, even her Facezone status hadn’t been updated in the past 20 minutes. The only thing she seemed capable of doing was stealing furtive glances at the visitor waiting outside of her boss's office.
She was a magnificent creature; about seven and a half feet tall, slender but muscular, with the most exquisite ocean-blue under-a-summer’s-sky colored skin. Well Victoria assumed it was a she. Her voluptuous curves and a complete set of bountiful cerulean blue breasts crowned the deep V line of her pink satin shirt showcasing her...ahem, femininity. Still, this far from Earth one could never be certain.
The female seemed nice enough and clearly she had good taste. Her blue silk Armasiano suit was to die for. Then she swooshed her tail and flashed Victoria a smile revealing two rows of razor-sharp, serrated, pearly white teeth turning the blood in her veins to ice. Every cell in her body seemed to scream in unison –
run!
And yet she denied that primal urge, unable to take her eyes off of the cerulean blue female with the most gorgeous, zaffre blue, long, loose tresses resting softly on her shoulders and meandering down to the small of her back. Something inside compelled her to stare and continue her assessment of what most definitely had to be a female. Truth be told, she assessed every woman that went through Mr. Azule's office doors.
Her spine stiffened, the biometrics clipboard she had prepared for her boss’s signature danced nervously in her fingers. Butterflies practiced backstrokes in her stomach as the hours passed, anticipating today’s meeting with her boss. Her legs crossed as heat flushed her core dreaming of Mr. Azule’s 6’1’’, deliciously muscular frame, replete with sinful, rock hard pecs straining against the soft fabric of his white
Aqualaian
silk shirts.
Hmm...hopefully he’ll lose the jacket and role those sleeves up, exposing those tanned, strong, sinewy forearms. Her toes curled at the memory.
A swooshing sound from across the room snapped her back to real time. She cast another secret glance at the extraordinary visitor under the pretext of searching for some misplaced file on her immaculate desk. Sure, she was very pretty, but no prettier than Victoria herself.
Right?
And the real question remained –
did her boss even like tails?
She absently curled a ringlet of her honey pecan blonde hair around her delicate finger.
Victoria obsessively looked her way again. Caught, she forced a cautious smile and waved enthusiastically. The large, shapely, blue temptation on two endless legs flashed Victoria a predatory smile and waved back, with a handful of razor-sharp claws.
"Please don't eat me." Victoria whispered under her breath.
Bev sat quietly, opposite the heavy Larskin wood doors of Mr. Azule's office, the CEO and chairman of the board of the Extravagance Corporation. From banquet halls to arenas to luxury starship rentals, Extravagance Corp. currently owned 857 different luxury businesses all across the Syalantian Empire. Bev had worked many years for their premier honeymoon resort hotel on Titan, Saturn’s largest moon. As of five days ago, a certain fabulous Zedrovian had most definitely been promoted to general manager.
Sure, the promotion was a major increase in responsibility which bit deeply into her already minuscule sliver of what passed for recreational time. Be that as it may, Bev was beyond ecstatic to not be working under that little gray demon Hoofsmear -or orange per her good friend Emery since Bev’s species evolved with retinal cones only capable of registering shades of blue. That puny land crustacean had been a cruel and petty tyrant of a supervisor making everyone miserable under her employ especially her wonderful Terran friend. But not anymore, Bev couldn’t help but chuckle inside.
More than anything else, Bev appreciated the recognition for a job well done and the salary increase that came with it. A massive salary increase. Which ultimately begged the question why all the hassle of having her visit the home office for an interview with the chairman of the board when she already had the job?
Absently she smoothed out her confining Vivonian silk, indigo blue pantsuit for the tenth time. On her home world, most of her day would be spent naked. Bev had discovered over the years of living off her home planet that most other species found a naked Zedrovian rather intimidating, especially when they were only face to hoohah height. She worried at a loose thread in her jacket. For the life of her, she couldn't fathom why they had dragged her all the way out here, a day and a half's travel from her hotel, when she had so much work to do.
Even worse, she barely had a chance to see Emery this past week, but she guessed that was to be expected. Finding your soul mate, getting married, running for your life, becoming a queen, and naked time with Rohn -who almost tipped the hotness scale over- were all legitimate excuses not to see her best friend. Plus Bev's own time had been occupied with meeting after meeting to set the hotel into real working order only to be faced with sitting through corporate's mandatory manager training vids at the end of every workday.
Blech.
Boring would be an understatement, but this tedium would ensure her freedom from her world as long as she wanted, as long as she was employed. The thought of having to go home gnawed at her insides like a pecanbeast invasion.
Still, there was a good chance she wouldn't see her good friend for a long, long time. Once the honeymoon was over, the new king and queen of the Syalantian Empire would leave Titan, unlikely to ever return. Bev needed to get back. She needed herself some “Emery” time.
Scanning the office to settle her mind, she enjoyed the hustle and bustle of people working. Thirty staff members worked behind short cubicles dotting the large open area, where she waited for the chairman. It wasn’t unlike any number of office buildings on Serntia Prime or anywhere across the known galaxy for that matter. And yet Bev’s keen eye noticed something different, something rare and almost magical about the scene unfolding before her.
The employees danced around their work space with light but purposeful steps. Postures relaxed, eyes gleaming with excitement. Conversations were punctuated by frequent, agreeable head nods, occasional chuckles and smiley faces which helped to ease Bev of any lingering concerns she may have had about her visit. This place buzzed with positive energy. Of course, an atmosphere like that did not happen by chance. Bev knew that all too well. It took a lot of hard work and dedication with a good, caring boss at the helm. An all too rare event in the workforce.
Then in the time it took to simply blink an eye, everything took on a preternatural stillness. The constant tapping of terminals ceased. The light flutter of conversations died mid sentences. Postures stiffened, muscles visibly tightened and faces darkened, creased with practiced lines of annoyance. Even the air reclamation units seemed to pause for a moment as if afraid to breathe. Bev lifted her nose and inhaled deeply. Generations of her people eking out a living in the deadly jungles of Zedrovia – her home world – had honed their senses to pinprick accuracy. She wrinkled her nose at the sour scent befouling the serene environment. There was a shark in the water.
Sure enough, a lanky, 6’4’’ humanoid male with way too much hair grease and enough cologne to make her eyes water, even from that distance, strutted in from the far hall wearing an expensive tailor-made, three-piece, light gray suit. Bev could envision Emery rolling her eyes at the handsome male moving across the room with an air of entitlement. What was it she usually called his type?
“Pompous ass-jack,” she beamed then cringed, acutely aware she should have used her inside voice. She recognized him as one of the vice presidents of the Extravagance Corporation. Oddly no one seemed to have heard her. Bev watched in awe as secretaries, lawyers and executives – all of the female persuasion, she noted – scattered to the four winds like spooked Jenarpian cats.
Yummmm, cats.
Bev's eyes glazed over and her blue tummy rumbled reminding her that she needed to eat.
A bit of shark for lunch might be a nice change of pace.
She licked her luscious lips hungrily as she searched the room and spied the greasy predator attempting to corner his prey.
It was that nice girl, the secretary from the closest cubicle who Bev had waved to earlier. The tight scowl marring her otherwise beautiful face betrayed her disdain at the predator stalking her and invading her space. The shark was on the hunt. Her previously care free, relaxed posture went fast hard and rigid. The muscles in her neck taut and ready to snap. The atmosphere was crackling with tension. Bev could practically hear his leer in the dead silence of the hushed office.
"Good morning Victoria,” he uttered, slowly tasting every syllable of the young woman’s name.
She flinched, blinking her big, almond-shaped, sapphire blue eyes but kept her gaze focused on the screen sitting on top of her desk.
He situated himself in her line of view casting a hard shadow on her trembling hands. "We've been having some problems with the copiers and I was wondering if you could come and help me, fix them?"
"Not a problem," the girl replied with a flat albeit upbeat lilt. But Bev knew better. She recognized the well-practiced tone. She had used it herself too many times in her many years of service in the hospitality business. It was anger mixed in with a healthy dose of profound repulsion in the seemingly professionally pleasant tone of her voice. Refusing to take her eyes off of her screen she quickly keyed in several numbers on the phone tablet attached to her terminal, before addressing the shark. "I can have maintenance here in five, just let me know which terminal is giving you trouble Mr. Quagmire."
Using one long crooked finger he pushed the “end call” button on her key pad. The simple but intrusive gesture somehow obscene coming from him evoked a shutter from both women as if they realized in one breath that their chairs were now sitting on top of Darduvian ants’ nest.
"Vicki, Vicki, Vicki… Do we really need to play these games?" Eyes narrowed to knife slits, the vice president of marketing leaned in close next to the beautiful secretary's ear, his voice a barely audible whisper, "You know what you really want, don't deny it."
Across the room in the waiting area Bev shook her head repulsed. She was hoping to make a good impression at the home office. Get in. Get out. Leave everyone dazzled. She was Bev after all. An exasperated sigh slipped through her lips.
It wasn’t meant to happen.
She'd seen enough of his type in her many years of service as she rose through the ranks at the hotel on Titan from maid to receptionist to general manager. His type generally didn't respond well to the word no. Besides if she sat there any longer, she would have to reimburse corporate for a new chair, the way her razor-sharp talons were digging into the armrest of this one.
She flicked a large piece of wood she had splintered off the chair into the hungry mouth of a Hebizian trash tree potted just next to the seating area. It loudly chomped on the thick chunk of wood. Bev wondered about the tree’s omnivorous nature. Nothing spoiled its appetite whether carbon based or synthetic. Her aunt used to keep one in her house and often threatened Bev she would throw her in the tree’s mouth if she didn’t behave. Nightmares of giant Hebizian trash trees chasing after her still haunted her dreams. A whole body shiver ran through her, her brain’s attempt to flush out the nasty memories. With another sigh, she began to rise when the air changed again. She took a deep breath and smelled something, strong, commanding and…
What was that?
As if on cue, a familiar face, the corporation's head honcho and the chairman of the board, Mr. Azule, emerged from the far entrance. As he did, employees flowed back into view like high tide rushing back to the shore and everyone in the room began to breathe again. Only the sleazy grease shark slithered back and away, abandoning the girl no doubt to go and hide under a rock.
The chairman was in direct opposition to the shark. He was tall too, for a soft-skin, but his shoulders were wide, obscenely stretching the seams of his iridescent, white shirt. His arms were thick and sturdy matching his tight expansive chest, which tapered down into a slim waist. Riding a strong confident gait, the chairman of the board made his way through the cubicle jungle. With a catlike grace he nodded and gave words of praise and encouragement to everyone he passed by. The only one he didn't talk to was that pretty little secretary girl. Strange. However, she chased after him.
"Sir. Sir." She yelled as he tried to run past. Leaping to her feet she desperately tried to match his long strides. Bev noted that the chairman visibly stiffened, before turning to face the secretary. When he did, his lips were pressed together so tight they seemed pale and bloodless, almost as if he was fighting not to breathe in the same air as her… Or maybe the air about her?
Hmmm.
"Sir I have those forms from Regency that the Viceroy of Tarandulum requested." Her voice cracked and she spoke into the floor, even though she was standing right in front of him.
The secretary kept her head tilted down as if both surprised and enamored by the appearance of her own two feet. Bev's keen eye caught the young woman’s stealing glances up at the chairman’s muscular arms, trimmed torso and expansive chest.
Oh honey, look at the man.
"They just need to be signed and then I can StarEx them out. Is there a chance I can get that signature from you, right now?" She nervously plucked a ringlet of very light shade of gray hair-probably blonde from what Emery had taught her- while she waited for him to answer.
The chairman shuffled from foot to foot like his pants were on fire. "Um, certainly Miss Paisley, I can give it to you right now.” The flawless, fair skin of her high cheeks flushed. “Uhm, I...I meant let’s do it right now," he countered. Victoria’s cheeks deepened to a darker shade of gray, probably red, Bev guessed. “Please, just pass me the forms,” he mumbled, clearing his throat. His chin dipped dangerously low as if its destination was his feet.
"Great. This way we can have it to them by this afternoon." She held out a pen and the aforementioned forms affixed to a biometrics clipboard for him to sign. His large palm missed and cupped her small hand while reaching for the clipboard, his long, tanned fingers grazed over her fair, smooth skin. For an endless moment they both froze, reminding Bev of the ancient, marble, ancient Syalantian statues decorating the hotel’s crystal gazebo on Titan. Someone coughed lightly and they were both shocked back into action.
He took the clipboard and signed page after page with quick, curt movements. He waited while the clipboard imprinted his biometrics next to each signature and he worked very hard at looking anywhere and everywhere but in Victoria’s direction, who stood right beside his large frame. His strong neck muscles flexed left, right, up and down as he was seemingly bent on tracking some invisible flying bug in the room. "Yes, that's very good. You are doing very good work Miss Paisley. Good," he piped up suddenly, startling the poor secretary.
He stood there for a moment, perplexed, still. Rigid and stiff like the flag pole outside the building. What was he doing? It was like watching a transport shuttle collide headfirst into an intergalactic cruiser ship. Bev just couldn't look away. The rising level of awkwardness skyrocketed even beyond her ability to cope and she briefly considered sticking her head in the voracious mouth of the Hebizian trash tree eagerly staring at her from the pot in the corner. The man was frozen like a second-grader on stage during his first school play. Bev feverishly tried to guess at what must be going through that male's mind.
Maybe he should leave? Yes! Maybe he has to go to the bathroom? Do it! Maybe he had a cat for lunch and it’s disagreeing with him?
Run!
The whole office seemed to hold its collective breath until the chairman finally took a deep breath, turned tail and made a beeline for his office. He didn't even pause to talk to Bev. Not that she could face him right now. He just held up two fingers to signal that he'd be with her in a few minutes before retreating behind the large doors leading into his office. Bev let out the breath she’d been holding in and ran a hand through her thick, zaffre blue, silky smooth and claw resistant hair. She gently tilted her head away from the staring crowd and her long bangs rolled forward to cloak her face. She was glad she'd worn her hair loose today. She hadn't witnessed anything so painfully embarrassing since she and her brothers had watched a three-legged, one-eyed Zedrovian chicken trying to ride on the lava lizard’s back.