Date: Thu, 7 Feb 2008 19:56:38 -0500
From: The Washingtonian <washingtonian2008@gmail.com>
Subject: The Washingtonian, Part 5

	On Monday I arrived early to the office to make sure to beat my
boss.  It may sound paranoid but I always feel guilty taking time off from
work-especially for bad reason.  Due to my absence the previous Friday, I
was afraid there was going to be negative repercussions.  I was
contemplating getting coffee for him and leaving it on his desk, but then
decided against it for fear that he'd think I was kissing his ass and
feared he'd know I'd done something wrong.  When I booted up my iMac, the
iMail chimed as expected with a bunch of emails from Friday, however after
reading through them I was relieved not to see anything reprimanding me
from Tom Harris or my immediate boss.  I dove into my work and didn't
realize I'd been chugging away for over an hour until my iMail chimed
again.  My stomach dropped when I saw that the sender was Tom Harris.  I
paused for a minute.  There was no subject or anything to gage what the
email was about, or perhaps even what its tone was.  After a couple moments
of thinking-and possibly not breathing-I opened it.
	
	Phillip,
	Please come see me when you get this.
	
	Tom Harris
	Principle
	The Harris Group
	THarris@theharrisgroup.com

My palms go sweaty, my tie seemed to have tightened around my neck and my
stomach sank lower.  I had no idea what to think other than the fact that
Tom Harris was telling me personally to see him.  From talk around the
office I knew that most associates never personally had one on one time
with him, let alone interns! I got up the nerve to get out of my chair, and
head toward my impending fate-Tom Harris's office.
	"Phillip," I heard from my boss's office as I walked passed.  I
stopped, and backtracked a couple steps, poking my head in.
	"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" he inquired.  "Are you
okay, you look a little flushed?"
	"I just got an email from Tom Harris telling me to come see him," I
replied.
	"Yeah, he came asking about you on Friday."  I swallowed hard when
he said that.
	"Asking about what?" I inquired nervously.
	"Just general questions: how you are progressing, what you were
working on."
	"Oh." I said flatly, not trying to sound too relieved.
	"Well, I don't want to keep the boss waiting.  Come see me when
you're done."
	I walked towards Mr. Harris's office, my heart pounding in my
chest.  I stopped at the bathroom checking myself in the mirror to make
sure that I looked fine, mainly that my tie wasn't crooked-there's nothing
I hate more.  I was also kicking myself for wearing my Gucci suit.  It was
my favorite, but in the sea of conservative Washington attire, its tapered
"skinny" styling made me stick out like a soar thumb.  I collected myself
and then exited the men's room, turning the corner and heading toward the
rear corner of the floor.
	Mr. Harris's assistant was seated at her desk outside his office.
When I approached she was on the phone, but smiled politely and wrapped up
her conversation.
	"May I help you?" she asked smiling more after she'd hung up the
phone.
	"Mr. Harris sent me an email to come see him,"
	"I'm sorry, is it Phillip or Andrew.  I still haven't quire gotten
your names down."
	"Don't worry about it, I'm sure you have your plate full as it is.
It's Phillip," I said completely sympathetic.  After all, I couldn't
remember her name either.  I never had any dealings with Mr. Harris, and
the only time I ever had any contact with one of the executive assistants
was with the main receptionist, Kelly, whom was now my main resource in the
office besides my immediate boss, and a decent friend.
	"Okay, let me check to see if he's busy.  One moment," she said
getting up knocking on his door and entering his office.  She came out a
second later with the same vibrant smile stating that I could go right in.
Part of me wondered if she got the job mainly because of her smile.
	"Phillip, have a seat," Mr. Harris said from behind his desk
gesturing to one of the chairs.  "Did you have a good weekend?"
	"I did, thank you."
	"I got Hunter's voicemail when I came into the office on Friday and
I wanted to make sure everything was okay."
	"Oh yes, everything is fine.  Thank you for asking though."
	"Arthur isn't over working you, is he?"
	"No, not at all.  I mean, I've been busy with work, but it's not
that I can't handle it. I made the mistake of telling Hunter that I missed
being home by the beach, and he mistook that for being homesick and tired
of work." I replied, and immediately became afraid it might have come
across too hastily, and at the same time trying to cover my tracks and keep
up with what I remembered from what Hunter had said in the voicemail.
	"I'm originally from Connecticut myself, and I remember my first
summer away from the beach as a bit of an adjustment, but I'm glad to hear
to everything is going well."
	"Oh yes."
	"You're giving a presentation tomorrow, correct?"
	"Yes, that is correct."
	"Which account are you working on?"
	"The presentation is for Apple."
	"Well, I look forward to seeing it," he said smiling.
	"Now, I'm nervous," I stated frankly with a slight laugh.  He
laughed in response.
	"Oh don't worry, you'll do great.  I'd love to chat longer, but I
have a call coming in," he said looking down at his phone, "tell Hunter I
say hello.  We keep canceling on each other."
	"Will do," I replied with a smile, standing up from the chair.
	I left the office feeling extremely relieved.  Not only did I get
face time with Tom Harris, but on top of it, he was very friendly and
actually seemed interested in my personal well being.  The walk back to my
office was a lot easier, and in a way I almost felt a little bounce in my
step.  I'm sure I had a big smile on my face.  Hunter was definitely going
to get and earful.
	My boss wasn't in his office when I returned so I went back to my
office, and immediately began drafting an email to send to Hunter.
	
	Hey asshole, I got an email from Tom Harris this morning saying to
"come see him."  I almost shit my pants.  He was seeing how my weekend was
and checking up on me to make sure I was doing okay.  I'm going to KILL
YOU!

P.S.  He say's hi.

Phillip Beauchamp The Harris Group PBeauchamp@theharrisgroup.com

After I sent the email, I checked to see if my boss had returned to his
office.  I sat down on the couch with a heavy sigh.
	"Anything going on you want to tell me about?" he asked turning
from his computer to face me.  Where I thought he might be angry, his tone
was more like he wanted to hear about gossip.
	"I'll let you know when I find out myself," I replied.
	"I got an email from Tom on Friday morning saying you wouldn't be
in.  That was a little odd seeing as how I didn't even think he knew your
name."
	"Yeah, I didn't either.  I guess he does now though."
	"Apparently.  May I ask how he knew you weren't going to be coming
in?" he asked.  The image of Hunter naked in bed flashed through my head
causing me to smile broadly.
	"I think I'd rather not say at the moment."
	"Fine then, if you're not going to let me in on the details then
you're not going to lollygag on my couch.  Get back to work.  Now that Tom
knows who you are, he's got big expectations which means you've really got
to wow him now."
	"Yeah, I figured as much," I said as I lethargically got up from
the couch.
	I left Arthur's office glad that he and I were back to the easy,
joking relationship we had at the beginning of the summer before he was
overloaded with work-thus taking some of his aggression out on me.  It was
turning out to be a good day.  When I returned to my office, there was a
new email in my inbox.
	
Dear Phillip, I'd like to mention that that was a very professional email.
Come over here for lunch and give me all the details!  Anything relating to
Tom Harris can be written off as a business expense.  I'm only free for
about 45 minutes at 1:15, so I hope that works for you.  My office is in
1900 K Street.  Take the elevator to the 11th floor.  See you then!

Hunter Blume Bowman, Stein, Franklin & Blume Hunter.Blume@bsfb.com

After reading I checked my calendar, and after not seeing anything posted
replied that I'd see him at 1 o'clock sharp and then hunkered back down
with my work.
	A couple of very focused hours later, I was brought back from the
world of Apple, Inc. by one of the fellow interns popping in to see if I
wanted to join them and one of their bosses for lunch at Chipotle.  Seeing
the time, I thanked him for the invitation but declined.  I checked my
personal email, and then got up planning on stopping by the bathroom before
I headed the eight or so blocks to Hunter's office.
	It was hot out and I felt a little too damp for my liking once I
entered the air-conditioned lobby of his building.  I signed in at the
front desk and then proceeded into the elevator and to the 11th floor.
Upon exiting I came to a small foyer in front of me.  To the right of it
was a pair of glass doors with the Bowman, Stein, Franklin & Blume logo
etched into them.  Once I'd entered the office, the receptionist greeted me
with a smile.  A gorgeous, exotic looking woman met me in the lobby shortly
after the receptionist had called back once I'd stated my business.
	"Phillip, I'm glad to put a face to your voice," the woman said
extending her hand to greet me.  "I'm Hunter's assistant, Roxanne."
	"Nice to meet you," I replied shaking her hand.
	"If you'd follow me, I'll take you back to his office.
Unfortunately he's still in the conference room in a meeting but he should
be out very shortly."
	"I don't mind waiting," I said politely as I followed her back down
a hallway. We quickly reached the end, and turned right, heading past a
smaller office, and then reaching a rather spacious one.  Roxanne stopped,
and directed me to enter.  I was immediately enveloped by the view of 19th
Street and part of K Street from the floor to ceiling windows.
	"Have a seat, and please make yourself comfortable.  Hunter should
be done any minute.  Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?" she
asked with the same polite smile.
	I was a little parched from the walk over in the 93-degree weather
(and that didn't take into account the humidity or heat index) wearing a
dark suit, but fearing coming across as high maintenance, I declined.  I
walked up to the windows and looked down at the busy street below.
Everyone was out getting lunch or running errands.  After a minute of
watching, I slowly began looking around his office.  His desk was closer to
the windows with another smaller wooden desk against the right wall.  To
the left, closer to the door was a minimalist leather couch and coffee
table, and two chairs in front of his desk.  Both his diplomas were
discreetly placed on one of the walls, as well as what looked like two Miro
lithographs.  On his desk, he had a couple of photos, one that appeared to
be him and his family, and another that appeared to be him and some friends
most likely from college.  His desk was fairly organized except for a few
folders whose contents were slightly spread across the wood finish.  His
computer sat closed in the middle, while his briefcase was leaning very
casually against the side of the desk.
	I took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, after
contemplating sitting in his high-backed chair and have a quick swivel, but
feared someone might walk by and look down upon it, and thus me.  I mustn't
have been sitting for more than a minute or two, when Hunter walked in.
	"Well aren't you a sight for soar eyes," he stated leaning down and
kissing me on the lips.
	"You're not so bad yourself," I replied.
	"I'm glad you could come meet me for lunch"
	"Normally I'd just pass that off as you trying to be cordial and
make my feel better, but after my conversation with my boss today it seems
that lunch with you is even a luxury for him."
	"Please, don't listen to a word Tom Harris says.  He's a complete
liar!" Hunter said jokingly trying to change the subject, but after seeing
this a few times, I knew to store it away for later.
	"Whatever you say, sailor." He responded to my comment with a
quizative look, not sure where this new "pet" name was coming from.
	"Our food should be here, are you hungry?"
	"Well, you know I'm anorexic, but feel free too eat if you'd like.
Please bear in mind that I'll be judging you the whole time though."
	"Funny," he commented to me with a sly eye and then pressed the
page button on his phone and called his assistant in.  She entered a minute
later with two plated of steak frites placing them on the coffee table in
front of the couch, and asked if she could get me anything to drink.  I
replied that I was fine, but Hunter asked for a bottle of Pellegrino and
two glasses.
	"So, how was your meeting with Tom Harris?" he said slicing into
his steak.
	"Well, I wouldn't call it a meeting, more of him asking me to stop
by his office."
	"And..."
	"Nothing, he was just making sure I was fine-he said he was
concerned because of your voicemail."
	"Nothing else?" Hunter asked with a sly smile.
	"No, he just said to say hello.  That was it, seriously."
	"Interesting..." he trailed off momentarily.  "He and I have had a
lunch meeting scheduled for the past month but nothing ever seems to work
out."
	"To be honest, the two of you could have had lunch today if you
wanted.  He was in his office as I was leaving to come here, and that
included a 20 minute walk on foot, it would have only been 10 if a company
car had picked either of you up."
	"You walked here?"
	"Yeah, how else did you think I was going to come?"
	"ROXANNE!" Hunter again yelled toward his door, Roxanne quickly
entering.  "Can you please call a car to take Phillip back to his office."
	"Are you two done?"
	"Oh no, but please call one and have it waiting, thank you," Hunter
ordered.
	"No, Roxanne.  It's not necessary, I insist," I stated to her.
	"Phillip, it's supposed to be 106 with the heat index this
afternoon, I can't have you walking back to work in your suit."
	"Nonsense Hunter.  What's the point of a good suit other then to be
seen in it!  My grandparents-my grandfather especially-would probably die
if I didn't get to parade down Penn Ave in front of the White House and
show off what good tailoring actually looks like."
	"Dior?"
	"Close, but no.  First season Gucci under Frida Giannini."
	"What, you're not wearing a French suit?  Sacrilege!"
	"Har har, very funny."
	"To be honest, I prefer you not wearing anything."
	"Yeah?" I replied with a smirk.
	"Mhmm, and licking chocolate off your stomach."
	"That's a new one we haven't tried."
	"We could tonight..." he trailed off seductively.
	"Maybe I'll take you up on that offer."
	"I'm simply a phone call away," he stated with a smile that made me
want to melt.
	We chatted over our food for next forty minutes.  Hunter brought up
my meeting with Tom Harris a couple more times, not believing me that our
conversation had been so brief.  After we finished eating, Hunter slid over
next to me on the couch.  We playfully flirted which led to me kissing his
irresistible lips.
	"Excuse me Hunter," Roxanne said politely interrupting our brief
petting session, "but you're 1:15 is in the conference room."
	"Saved by the bell," I stated with a big smile.
	"I should be done around seven tonight, I'm picking you up for a
quick dinner then I'm fucking your brains out."
	"Is that a promise?"
	"I hope!" Hunter said getting up and leaving the room.
	"Mr. Beauchamp, please feel free to stay as long as you'd like,"
Roxanne said peeking back into the office.
	"Please call me Andrew, and thank you, but I need to be getting
back to work."
	"In that case, there is a car waiting for you downstairs," she
stated to me with a smile.  I went to open my mouth but before I could she
cut me off.
	"We're paying for the car either way, so I'd take if-honestly."
	Exiting the office, I thanked her for her hospitality and made my
way down to the lobby of Hunter's building to meet the waiting Mercedes
S-Class which drove me downtown and unfortunately back to work.
	I got a lot accomplished once I got back to the office, mainly due
to the fact that I wanted to get everything finished so that I could see
Hunter again.  When seven hit and I hadn't heard anything from him, I
debated calling to see if he were still on, but decided against it.  A half
hour later, I decided it was time to leave.  He could pick me up from my
apartment easier than from work, plus I really wanted to get out of my damn
suit.  After waiting around for another hour, I got sick of waiting around
and popped a bottle of wine and made myself a decent meal.  It wasn't until
the weekend that I again heard from Hunter.


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