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About the story:
Perhaps three is not a crowd…
Shae & Dylan were married as soon as it was legally possible. The stress of life came crashing down after 20 years. Desperately looking for a job, Dylan’s willing to accept anything to provide for his family. Most of all he desires to make his wife happy.
Zigmund finds himself pulled by the dark erotic beauty & given the chance, he opens himself to something unexpected but sensuously delectable.
Yet, will this be a carnal adventure they want to take forever?
Are you ready to start reading?Read more: Her Substitute Husband… His Boss Chapter Two – The Rhyme and Reason
Chapter Two – The Rhyme and Reason
Shae woke without an alarm clock at four am and, without thinking, shuffled to the bathroom. Of course, this looked like a hot mess because her daughter had not cleaned up after last night. Wiping the dried spit from her cheek, Shae took a quick Navy shower and then put back on her uniform.
She would wash her apparel at work with the sheets from the red room.
It took her a moment to comb the knots out of her hair and then do a flat braid around her head before washing her face and brushing her teeth.
She ignored the stress pimples on her face and desperately needed to deep condition her dry hair. There were other things to do, like cleaning the house, preparing tonight’s dinner, and doing her homework.
Returning to the bedroom, it was only four-thirty, and Dylan was still asleep. Shae finished her last homework assignment. Once she got approval, she would get access to take her final GED test. She’d be done with high school and then be able to start the Entrepreneurship Certificate online training.
Before getting off the computer, Shae checked the bank account. Today the utility bill payments would be deducted, leaving Shae with just enough money to get back and forth to work, but she also checked their debit card.
Dylan had spent too much at the bar last night, and although he’d deposited two hundred dollars from the little fast-food job he’d gotten after he had got laid off from his other job, it still wasn’t enough to cover the bar tab. He was gambling again—something they couldn’t afford.
She looked over at the bed as if he could hear her pleading not to go down that road again. Dylan gambled when he was stressed.
When Dylan was stressed, it also meant his sexual performance waned dramatically. He couldn’t have sex when he had problems, so Shae took care of things. She loved having sex, and she loved her husband, but when he couldn’t, not only did she suffer mentally but physically, her periods hit harder, and her whole body just seemed uptight.
Clicking over to her website, she took off the pink Chanel bag she had already offered, the most being seven thousand. That money would have been enough to cover their monthly bills, but Shae felt she might not see that bag again.
She used the thirty minutes to clean the house and then cook breakfast.
Dylan sounded hopeful about this job interview. He’d been out of work for six months.
The Winter months were particularly more stressful because of the heating bills.
Speaking of bills, Shae went to her daughter’s room. Stephanie didn’t come home last night but had left the heater blowing on high.
Shae snatched the cord out of the socket and left the door open to heat the rest of the cold house—another couple hundred down the drain.
Looking about the dirty room, Shae only removed the dishes and any open food items. How had Stephanie not picked up one good skill from Shae?
She realized Dylan hadn’t cleaned anything in the kitchen and made a half attempt to put the food up. Shae put all the food from last night in proper containers, washed all the dishes by hand, wiped down the kitchen counters, and swept the floors. Afterward, she gathered all of the dirty laundry in one giant bag.
Rustling from the back indicated Dylan was up and doing his five am workout. She was too tired to join him today.
Instead, she sat in the front room and worked on her new piece. It was a vintage yellow Gucci bag she’d found tossed in the garbage can at the motel she cleaned. Most likely, the owner thought it couldn’t be fixed, and that would be true if they didn’t know how to get the warranty on it, but Shae could improve what had been recklessly tossed out.
Before Shae could walk, her mother taught her how to use a needle. Her mother and father taught her everything there was to know about fabric. Her parents had a shop fixing footwear and bags and altering wedding dresses.
Unfortunately, her mother died when Shae was ten, but when all was lost, two months later, her father married her mother’s best friend, Aretha. Unfortunately, that meant the best friend’s brother, Uncle Alaster, moved in with the thick beard. Every chance he got, he would find a way to touch her.
Aretha didn’t know how to clean or cook, so Shae had to take care of the house and help her father in the shop. All Aretha did was handle the customers that came in. Her father needed someone to do the altering, and Shae knew how.
Bags were her thing, though. She, unfortunately, had to thank Aunt Aretha for finding that out. Aretha tossed a Hermes bag to her one day that looked like it had been nearly run through a shredder. After two weeks and combing through different stores for material, Shae had the bag almost perfect.
Next was a Chanel bag, and Aretha sold the bag for close to ten thousand dollars.
Shae figured she could start looking for bags herself in thrift shops. That’s where she initially laid eyes on Dylan. Before becoming crippled with too much weight, his mother worked at the nearby thrift store, and Dylan would help her.
Shae found every excuse to visit the thrift store or go across the street from her dad’s business to the basketball court to work on bags in the grass while watching the boys play – notably Dylan.
He made her feel like a glorious million bucks when he looked her way.
He still did.
Getting him to like her also kept Alaster away. It was the only time Dylan had come to her defense when a guy got too handsy. Alaster had come to her father’s shop when she was only twelve. She had to close the shop because her father and stepmother left early on a date.
Alaster had come as she locked the door and pinned her in the corner, putting his hand up her dress. She screamed for help but knew no one was around.
Dylan burst through the door, punched Alaster in the mouth, and dragged Shae out of there.
He ensured her father knew what had happened, and no one doubted Shae again. Dylan was her hero and let her stay close to him. Soon he started confiding in her about his fears of getting fat. Shae would work out with him in the mornings when she could.
Then one day, it happened. Dylan kissed her. It was their first time, and he’d forgotten protection. At fourteen years old, neither one of them was thinking about the consequences. Everything felt so good, and a child came nine months later.
Dylan’s mother begged them not to name the baby Persephone, so Stephanie it was.
At the same time, Dylan got a full-ride scholarship to a private school outside of Detroit. Unfortunately, he needed to support his family because his parents could no longer work due to their weight. He’d have to drop out and get a job at the plant.
Shae wanted to get out of her father’s house anyway. Aretha blamed her for causing a rift in their family, but Shae still wanted to work for her father.
Dropping out of school was a no-brainer. She could work two jobs, sell her purses online, and care for the baby at home. Unfortunately, Dylan’s mother spoiled Stephanie and indulged her granddaughter until she died.
Dylan’s parents’ money left to Stephanie to go to college was depleted in less than two years of partying and junk. Stephanie had taken out loans for college as well. Shae knew her daughter barely made the grades to graduate with a liberal arts degree because Shae had done most of her daughter’s homework.
If Shae had been twenty-one without kids, the sky would’ve been the limit.
Shae wouldn’t cry over spilled milk; her life was her choice, not a mistake.
Loving Dylan had never been wrong; just really hard.
“Ready to go?” Dylan asked Shae after he finished his breakfast.
She gathered her sewing kit and project, put them in their bedroom, locked the door, and joined him at the front door. Looking back at the kitchen to verify the stove was off; only Dylan’s dish was in the sink. Shae hoped she wouldn’t have to clean up again.
“You look good,” she said, retying his red bowtie and centering it perfectly. “You’re going to look good.”
“Thanks, Shae.” He briefly kissed her, but she pulled on his jacket to deepen the kiss.
Dylan’s kisses always made her stomach turn to butterflies, even after twenty-one years.
Her husband obliged her but pushed away, blushing. “Shae, we’re going to be late,” he warned, picking up the laundry bag for her.
She only giggled and followed him out. He’d drop her off at her job, help her sneak the first load of laundry in the washroom and then head to the office building where the interview was.
Dylan nervously tapped on the steering column waiting for the time to go up. He didn’t want to go too early and seemed like a nerd.
While he waited, he called Stephanie. She needed a reprimand of some kind.
“Hey, Daddy,” she answered.
“Where are you?” he questioned as sternly as possible.
“I’m just walking in the door.”
“And your mother’s purse?”
“Oh yeah, um. Yeah, Daddy. Where are you?” she asked. “I don’t hear no one ordering food in the background.”
He realized she had abruptly changed the subject and worried Shae wouldn’t see the Chanel bag again. “I’m at a job interview.”
“Oh yeah, Uncle Ronald said you’d be coming into his job.”
Suspiciously, he asked, “When did you speak to him?”
“Last night at the club,” she replied as if it were obvious. “He said he would get his boss to hire you because he needed much help at work. And Uncle Ronald would be your boss.”
This information didn’t bother him. Ronald only got into IT for the money and could barely code. He even tried to open his own software business but didn’t want to learn what it took to keep up with the ever-changing software, so he had to close his business, but he found jobs that believed what was on his resume to hire him and then come running to Dylan for help. If Dylan aced this interview, finally, Ronald could have Dylan all to himself to help him look good.
If this job paid well, Dylan would damn well do anything… possibly let Ronald do whatever he wanted with Shae?
He shifted uncomfortably at the thought, knowing Shae never liked Ronald. Number one was the beard Ronald would always keep. Number two, she said Ronald made her feel creepy and was using Dylan.
“Don’t make a mess today, and apologize to your mother when she gets home for your attitude.”
Dylan cut her off. “Your mother may not have degrees, but she was helping you with your homework every night, and you wouldn’t have graduated from high school or college without her help, Stephanie. So appreciate her and let her know you’re sorry.”
Stephanie huffed on the phone.
“And you look for a job or consider that offer your mother suggested.”
“Ewww, I’m not cleaning shit from the stinky motel rooms, Daddy. She’s a whore cleaner.”
Rubbing his face in frustration, he said, “Stephanie, don’t ever call your mother that.”
“But it’s true. She cleans up after prostitutes.” She hiccuped, and Dylan knew his daughter was still partially drunk from the night before.
“Get some rest, sweetheart.”
“Okay, Imma get something to eat. That food looks good that Momma cooked last night.”
“Yeah, it tastes just like your Grandmother used to make.”
“I miss Grandma. She spoiled me just right. She gave me anything I wanted,” Stephanie said fondly. “Okay, Daddy, bye.”
Dylan hung up the phone and stared out the windshield, drifting off again, wondering how Shae was doing. Most likely tired, but he knew she’d never stop working until there was nothing to worry about anymore.
Getting out of the car and straightening up his tie just the way Shae would’ve liked it, he went into the building and got a visitor’s security pass to the eighth floor. The company took up two floors, and he was worried when he realized the company’s name. It was the same company that had bought out his former job.
Stepping off the elevator, he checked in at the desk, looking around for any familiar faces.
“Do you have your resume?” the receptionist asked him.
He confidently handed her the resume his wife had printed off.
“Oh, this is nice,” she said, looking at it. “Mr. Adawolf will be impressed.”
“I’m meeting with the owner of the company?”
“Yes, sir. Please sit in the lobby; he’ll be with you in a moment.”
Ronald came around the corner looking pleased as punch. “Told you I’d get you an interview.”
“Why didn’t you tell me it’s Adawolf Software?!” Dylan huffed under his breath.
“Why does it matter?”
“They’re the ones that bought out my former job. Man, this is going to be shit. They let me go.”
“Calm the fuck down, Dylan. First, I didn’t know this place bought out your former company. I was brought on to manage the QA department because they said the former guy was shit.”
“That was my job!”
“Oh shit, man.”
“No, they let me go because they didn’t want to keep their promise to pay me what I should’ve been earning with all my certifications and education,” Dylan complained. “This asshole is probably the one that told them to let me go.”
“Nah, Mr. Adawolf hadn’t been brought on board until everything was settled.”
“Zigmund Adawolf?! His family owns one of Germany’s largest software companies!” Dylan exclaimed, impressed.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, though. Just make a good impression. He asked me who was a good QA for this new project he has going on, and I knew I had to bring you aboard. You’re going to make me look outstanding, right?”
“Oh hell, yeah,” Dylan said excitedly.
“Mr. Adawolf will see you now,” the receptionist said. “Follow me, Mr. Raven.”
They tapped hands before departing as Dylan followed the assistant to an eight-person conference room.
The man he’d met at the Halloween party was at the end of the table, while a large-built black man in a nice suit sat next to him.
“Mr. Raven is here for the interview, Mr. Adawolf,” the receptionist introduced Dylan, guiding him to sit at the other end of the table.
“Thank you, Roslene,” Zigmund said, taking Dylan’s resume from the other guy.
“You’re Zigmund Adawolf?” Dylan asked, shocked. “I mean, all Ronald introduced you as his boss at the party, but I didn’t know it was YOU. I’m a fan of your gaming algorithms and database processes, sir.”
“Funny, I’m a fan of your Quality Assurance procedures,” Zigmund said. He looked at the man next to him. “Mr. Raven helped me decide to buy the company, Emperor.”
Dylan looked at the other man, shocked. “You’re Emperor Heart of Heart Secure Software?”
“Something like that,” the other man said and only smirked. “If you don’t want him, Ziggy, I’ll take him. I like him, and that’s a damn good-looking resume.”
Zigmund said something in German, and both of them chuckled.
Emperor stood up and walked towards Dylan handing him his card. “If you don’t like his terms, call me.”
“Out!” Zigmund said, but there was mirth in his voice.
The large black man winked one of his pure black eyes and left.
Dylan was high as a kite on adrenaline from meeting someone he thought he’d never meet in his lifetime.
Zigmund was about Dylan’s height, five foot eleven, with a muscular, lean build. He had a short-cut hairstyle with natural blond highlights and almost tanned skin. He had a broad forehead, small cheeks, a wide jaw, a straight nose, and a pointed chin. With downturned stark sky large blue eyes, Dylan was almost enamored by his handsomeness. “Wow, Mr. Adawolf, thank you for this interview.”
The lights had been too dim to notice the startling blue of Zigmund’s eyes that seemed to leap from his face.
“I should be thanking you. After what your former employer did to you, you shouldn’t give me the time of day, but when I realized many of the practices and bugs you fixed made it possible for a smooth transition, I demanded justice. You’ll be glad to know the majority of the administrative staff from that company is gone. What’s left is me running this company literally by myself and looking for good people to help me helm what could be a good working relationship and profitable business for all I bring onboard.”
Dylan inquired, “Did you know about me when you came to the party?”
“No. I found out more about you after I met you, and that’s when I decided to get rid of the former administration and get you here.”
Dylan wanted to dispute with Zigmund what Ronald had told him, but he didn’t.
“Let’s start with your certifications and accreditations,” Zigmund said, taking complete charge of the interview and getting directly to business. “Afterwards, we might do a little whiteboard and then some scenarios. If I’m still impressed, we can negotiate terms. How does that sound, Mr. Raven?”
“I think that’s perfect, Mr. Adawolf.”
“Good, but first, I should ask, how is your wife? It was enjoyable to see her chair dance. Tickled me for several days.”
Dylan was curious whether Zigmund was making fun of Shae or impressed. Defensively, he said, “My wife’s very smart, Mr. Zigmund, but she has two left feet and never wants to dance.”
“Poor thing. I bet she’d be beautiful in a tango.”
Relaxing, Dylan teased, “If you could get her even to do a two-step, I’d let you almost have her. Shae will not dance out of a chair to save her life.”
“Well, if this works out in your favor, then you can come to our annual Holiday Party, where I celebrate my birthday as well, and I’ll borrow your wife for the night.”
Damn, why does that sound sexy as fuck! To see his wife dancing with this German guy with those blue eyes lighting up, enamored by Shae?! Fuck! Dylan forced himself to stay on target. “It’s a deal.”
Zigmund got back to business and began the interview.
Copyright 2002 – Her Substitute Husband… His Boss -Sylvia Hubbard – All Rights Reserved.
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