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On Her Mercy

It was most humiliating to call Shirley and ask about my missing laptop. Even though we had spent a night together, she is by no means my friend. She is my colleague and can’t be trusted. Now she knows that I have lost my laptop loaded with confidential info, and she can use this against me. I must make sure she will consider me as an ally, not an enemy.

The worst part is, of course, that she had no idea, where my laptop might be – or so she said. Was she telling the truth? Or is she trying to get an access to my laptop right now? There is a password, of course, but there are ways to bypass passwords, and as a resourceful woman, she would find a way.

The more I think about it, the more certain I am that Shirley is screwing me over. It is all too obvious. Until I get my laptop back, she has a tight grp on my nuts, and I am totally on her mercy. Maybe that’s what she planned all along, when she joined me for drinks: to get me drunk and steal my laptop. What a power-hungry bitch!

So far, she hasn’t told James about this – I know that for sure, because I still got my job. Of course she hasn’t, because she wouldn’t waste this opportunity to blackmail me. Instead, she has given me fake smiles and sugar-coated threats during this week. For example, yesterday we happened to be in the same elevator without anyone else around, and she asked immediately if I found my laptop. I put the fake smile of my own on my face. ‘I am working on it, baby’, I said with my friendliest grin.

‘Maybe you should tell James about this,’ she said, with sympathetic tone and worried face – knowing perfectly well that it would be the last thing I would do. God she is smart – maybe too smart for her own good. I told her that she’d got a point and rushed away from the elevator as soon as I could.


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