Free Unleashing the Receptionist: ...the Receptionist, Book 3 by Juniper Bell Page B

owns part of the company. She said you were hiding profits from her.”
    “She’s a liar and a cheat and she set it up so we thought you were from the IRS.”
    He slumped against the edge of the sink and sunk his head into his hands. “Impersonating an IRS auditor is a federal crime. I would never do that.”
    “If it helps, you didn’t impersonate one very well. They were onto you right away. I’m the only one you fooled.”
    He reached out and grabbed my arms. I guess that showed how desperate he was, to touch me. “You have to believe me. How could I impersonate anyone? I’m just a schlub. A pervy schlub who j-j-j-acks off to tapes of sexy women.”
    “You think I’m sexy?” I’m easily distracted by compliments.
    He gave me a “you’ve got to be kidding” look, then returned to his posture of despair. He was a pathetic sight, slumped against the sink, his belt off kilter.
    “Look, Standish, you’re not a perv. Or a schlub. Well, maybe a bit of a schlub. As long as that means what it sounds like.”
    “What does it sound like?”
    “Umm…sloppy weirdo?”
    “Yeah, that’s about right.” He looked so downcast that I couldn’t help it. I gave him an encouraging punch in the arm.
    “Don’t be so down on yourself.”
    “I got off on watching you. I couldn’t help myself. I told myself to stop, but you were so beautiful, so sensual, I just couldn’t. Don’t you hate me now?”
    “No, goofy. Don’t you realize that I set you up? I knew you were watching the whole time. I put that monitor in there.”
    A parade of expressions flitted across his face, shock followed by confusion followed by amazement. “Wow. You’re like Mata Hari or something. You should work for the CIA.”
    I snorted. “I’m a Bond Girl all right.” He just didn’t know what sort of bonds. “I’m pretty happy here at Cowell & Dirk, actually. But thanks for the compliment… Oh no. Please don’t.”
    Now he was crying. Big fat tears rolled down his round cheeks. He looked like a ten-year-old caught with his hand in a cookie jar.
    “I—I think there’s something wrong with me, Ms. Arthur. I’m sick. I’m twisted.”
    “Do you mean sexually?” I put on an understanding face, feeling like a therapist.
    “Yes,” he wailed, unable to look me in the face. “What kind of person likes to watch other people have sex?”
    “Um…lots of people. In case you hadn’t heard, there’s this little thing called porn. It’s even online now too, imagine that!”
    “Yes, but…you know when you bent over, and then Mr. Dirk came in and, and…”
    “Spanked me?”
    “Yes. That was very sexy.” He looked absolutely miserable. Poor dude. It sucks when you can’t accept your own sexuality, whatever it is. “I…I climaxed right away. I couldn’t help it.”
    “Look, Standish, have you ever hurt anyone, I mean, in a way they didn’t consent to? Have you ever done something during sex that the other person didn’t want?”
    “No! I would never do that!” He looked shocked. “Actually, I…well…haven’t had much. Sex.”
    My pity for him deepened. I wanted to adopt him.
    “Have you ever done what you did today, jerked off while watching someone who didn’t know you were watching?”
    “No! I just rent movies.”
    “Then there’s nothing wrong with you. So what if you like to watch? So what if you like it kinky? Guess what?” I leaned a little closer. “You’re not the only one.”
    He peered at me through his tears. “You mean, I’m not a freak?”
    “No, you are. The thing is, everyone’s a freak. You need to own your freakiness, dude. Admit it, enjoy it, and find a way to get your freak on without harming anyone else.”
    “I’m a freak?”
    “Say it with me. I’m a freak and I’m proud.”
    At first he scrunched up his face and refused, but then after a few tries he played along. “I’m a freak and I’m proud.”
    “There, how does that feel?”
    “Good, I guess. I’ve never talked with anyone