...Rivals...

"Can you believe Cooper's gall?" Anthony asked Amelia over Zoom as she monitored her accounts across the other three of her four-screen setup. "You've brought more money through this place in four years than he has in seven, and he wants to give you shit? Unbelievable."

She could, as it happened, believe Cooper's gall. Knew, in fact, that he had a point. Hell, insofar as it went, he was dead on. What TanGen wanted was earnings manipulations. It did pose a PR risk to the company. She also knew it would ensure them even more of its business, and guarantee a tidy $8 million profit on this deal alone. That that was, and at least so long as the market ran hot, would remain their firm's chief concern was the truth that she understood and he couldn't.

"Cooper's not stupid," she said modestly. A woman could be successful in this world, but being a braggart would always make her a bitch. "He doesn't have the killer instinct he needs, but he's not an idiot by any means."

That much she meant. Jake followed his gut, and had a good head on his shoulders. In a way, he reminded her a little of her father, a police officer who, in spite of the obvious pride he'd had in her success, regarded her career with a mixture of suspicion and doubt.

"So explain to me again how this isn't just gambling," he'd ask her in his teasing, though not altogether insincere, way. "Cause the way you're talking sounds an awful lot like the guys we bust bettin' on the tracks."

"You caught me, Daddy," she'd always say with an exaggerated eye roll. "All I do is bet on big, expensive horses."

But if Amelia Sportello hadn't inherited Larry's monetary sensibilities, the toughness under pressure and no nonsense attitude she did get helped propel her in this very masculine world. That it came in a package of classic Italo-American beauty didn't hurt matters. Long, wavy dark hair that framed a pretty olive face with big brown eyes, and perfect teardrop breasts that seemed a little too large for her petite 5'0” frame.

That such looks overlay her tough interior was disarming to the people she dealt with in her still male dominated world. It made her seem soft and easy, right up until the moment she twisted the dagger.

"Well, he was acting stupid today," Anthony said. "Seriously, in another two years you're going to outrank him. He should remember that."

One year, she thought, but who's counting?

"Listen, I have a meeting with a client," she said, "But it was nice catching up."

"Yeah, definitely," Anthony agreed. "Go knock 'em dead. Maybe we could meet up in the real world sometime."

She made some noncommittal sounds before terminating the call. A moment later the "client", who was not really a client at all, walked into the room.

Amelia yawned and stretched, opening her hand so her boyfriend, Devin, could slip a cup of coffee into it.

"Thank you baby," she said with a warm smile.

"That Anthony I was hearing?" he asked, "You know he wants to fuck you, right? No knocking him for taste of course."

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, a hand snaking beneath her dress shirt. She felt a flush of heat, and moaned, but ultimately guided his hand back out again.

"Not til 5," she said.

He groaned his disapproval, but ultimately backed off. She'd trained him well.

"Ugh, baby… you work from home. Any time can be 5."

"Not for me," she said with a **** smile. "But don't worry. I'll make it up to you with interest."

As if to clarify, she hiked up her khaki skirt to show off the shapely bare leg beneath it. He smiled, but there was disappointment behind it. Oh well… nothing to be done for it. For now, she simply smiled at the memory of that warm hand beneath her shirt, knowing she'd ride him like a stud as soon as the closing bell rang.

That something could be done for it was not a thought that crossed her mind. Work hours were for working so that, in a year, she could move up to a lucrative senior position at the firm. About that time, she'd be marrying Devin, and approximately two years after that, when she was 29 and he was 30, they'd have exactly one child. Such was the way Amelia approached her life; a series of checklisted goals she inexorably ticked off. And between work and Devin, everything was exactly on schedule.

Or, at least, it had been, until she started feeling woozy...

*****

Jake groaned as he watched Amelia walk out of the entry room and toward their increasingly full lounge dressed, oddly, in a khaki skirt and pink dress shirt, but barefoot and bare legged beneath it. As his people were full time remote workers, it was the one of the few times he'd ever met her in person, and he was struck now just like he had on the other occasions by just how stunning she actually was.

"So, this is your fault?" she asked him as she arrived. Her big brown eyes reflected cool hostility.

"I really, really don't want anything to do with this," Jake said.

"Sure. I'll choose to believe that," Amelia said, taking a seat. "But I'll be damned if I'm going to end up in some harem of yours."

Leah turned a wary eye on her, but for now said nothing.

"Our next contestant is also no fan of her new master, a feeling which is shared by him," she said. "But, in spite of that, he harbors a certain secret attraction to her."

Jake felt his stomach turn, knowing exactly what name would be called before she even said it.

"Please welcome Emily's best friend and Jake's biggest detractor, Rachel Cho!"

*****

Rachel was in a bad mood as she stood before her self-defense class. She'd been in a bad mood all morning, ever since that very weird call from Emily about Jake's sudden disappearance, then reappearance. For one moment, she'd really thought he was gone.

Rachel worked as a physical trainer at a local gym, a job she normally adored. But, at the moment, she was just going through the motions. Her mind was still stuck on that strange call, with its strange implications, and above all, a lingering sense it was bothering her a great deal more than it should be.

"Stance is everything," she instructed her small class of six other women. "You're likely to be smaller than a potential attacker, so you need to leverage your center of gravity and use it to your advantage."

From the gym’s weight area on the other side of the room, a wolf whistle rang out. It was from the group of douchebags who seemed to perpetually live there. Rachel had complained about them a million times, but management never wanted to throw them out on account of the traffic they always seemed to drive. Normally, she tried to simply ignore them, but this time she made the mistake of throwing one an irritated glance.

"Come over here! I'll show you something about leverage," he called back. "Something your little girlfriend couldn't."

It had somehow gotten into their heads that she and Emily were a couple. But while Emily had often swung that way, Rachel never had. She'd assumed it was just them; a product of the X-rated movie that likely perpetually played out in their minds. That the way she looked at and talked about Emily was the true cause of such suspicions was a thought that would have never entered her mind.

"Guys, knock it off," called Wally, the gym manager. It was about the most protest he'd ever put up.

Normally, Rachel would ignore them, and that would be that. But she was just irritated enough today that she wanted to make an issue of the annoying spectators. And perhaps an example of them, too.

"Come on over," she said.

The gym bro, a tall lanky guy who, while well muscled enough was nowhere near as jacked up as some of his friends. That was helpful at least. He did have almost a foot on her, though; a little over 6 feet if she had to judge, while she stood at just 5'3. But given the sloppy way this gorilla of a man carried himself, she doubted she'd have much trouble.

"You see," she explained as he approached. "Leverage is king."

She turned back to him.

"What's your name, anyway?"

"Uhm… Bobby," he said.

She had to fight to suppress a grin. Now that he was actually over here with her instead of just performing for the guys, he seemed badly out of sorts. She almost felt bad for him.

"Alright, pretend like you're coming at me."

Bobby hesitated.

"Uh… coming at you for what?" he asked.

Now, she did grin. Not even a bad guy, really. At least he was one who couldn't imagine himself trying to attack her. Her expression softened.

"It doesn't matter," she said, then attempted to stroke his ego a bit. "I could use a big strong guy to demonstrate with."

That seemed to pep him up a bit. "Uh… sure. Okay."

He came toward her again, though not with any sense of purpose. That was fine, she supposed, at least for the demonstration. She'd already decided to downgrade his punishment from complete humiliation to a slap on the wrist.

"If someone directly approaches," she said to the class while keeping her eyes on Bobby, "you want to use their own momentum against them."

She grabbed his wrist and twisted her hips, locking one foot behind his. He lost his balance and fell forward on the map.

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed from the floor.

She helped him back up.

"Stand over me now," she said.

She half expected him to bolt, but after a brief hesitation, he did as she said. And so it went; she tested various techniques on her, both her class and his friends leaned in to watch, everyone laughed at the show, and Bobby was a genuinely good sport about all of it.

After some time of this, she wiped her forehead.

"Okay. I think that's enough for one day," she said, "I'll see you all next week."

The crowd dispersed as Bobby climbed to his feet again.

“Well, that was interesting,” he said. “I didn’t expect a girl like you to hand my ass to me like that.”

She brushed a long, loose bang out of her face.

“Yeah, I’ve got a gift for that,” she agreed, “but don’t take it personally. I’m literally a professional.”

“I had it coming too,” he agreed. “I’m…really sorry about that. I know it’s shitty, but it’s just what you’re supposed to do.”

Rachel sighed, looking up at him.

“It doesn’t have to be,” she said. “If a cute little thing like me can teach herself how to put big guys like you on the floor, surely big guys like you can learn to say no.”

He blushed and diverted his eyes. She put a hand on his arm.

“It’s alright. Just don’t do it again, okay.”

“I uh… could make it up to you. Buy you dinner or something.”

She put her hands on his hips and gave him a look.

“Are you seriously trying to turn that fuckup into a date?”

He looked abashed, though not quite deterred.

“Well, what if I asked you out because I think you’re hot, awesome and badass?” he tried.

A part of her wanted to. He was certainly a good looking guy, and he did have an awkward sort of charm. But sooner or later that would be expectations. Reasonable ones from a partner, but ones that she’d never been able to fulfill, no matter how badly she’d wanted to. It would all lead to the same old train wreck all her other relationships had.

“Jesus, are you okay?” he asked, looking down at her.

She opened her mouth to say, “of course not,” but swayed dizzily instead. Then she reeled, and fell.

*****

Jake kept looking between Rachel emerging and the irritated look he was getting from his girlfriend. Her arms were crossed beneath her breasts, which did interesting things to the apron that was all she wore. Still, he knew that look and the bad news it represented.

“Secret attraction?” Emily asked skeptically. “Asshole!”

“I… It’s not… She’s just attractive, okay?”

She was that. Judging from her appearance, decked out in a red and black sports bra with matching yoga pants, she’d been taken from the gym; exactly where Jake thought she was most appealing.

The short Asian beauty had the gorgeous ass and toned, thick thighs of a woman who spent a ton of time on her glutes. Her toned, brown midriff had the sort of lean musculature one might find on a panther. Her hair, which was bound behind her in a braid, fell all the way to the bottom curve of her rear.

He knew she was Emily’s best friend, but what kind of man wouldn’t find her appealing?

“Hello, love,” Leah greeted as she arrived. “Welcome to Jake’s harem.”

The reaction was visceral and immediate. It was also a near echo of Amelia’s.

“I should have known. I tried to warn her about you,” Rachel said.

“Actually, he’s not lying. None of you volunteered for this.” Leah said mildly.

“Would you tell us any different if he had?” Rachel asked.

“No,” Leah admitted. “But I also don’t want to bloody argue about it. We have only two more guests to introduce. And unlike the rest of you, Jake doesn’t know either of them at all.”