Category: Interracial Love Stories

The Gay PA

by cantbuymy©

Ok this is 100 percent interracial. Even though race has nothing to do with this how this story reads, I wanted to put it under interracial but it is still a love story about two people except they happen to be different colors. If I had my way I would put it under romance, but what the hell, interracial will work.

*

I was just out of college and I needed a job. Up until that time my job was to be a student. But now I had to strike out on my own I had sponged off my parents long enough.

So I headed for Atlanta, where business was booming. Even with degree in business and an MBA I could not find a job. I was only twenty four and had done three years in the Army until they told me I was no longer needed on active duty, something about RIF [Reduction in Force]. Actually that was pretty good because as an officer I owed them seven years from the last college class they paid for, so I got college at their expense and then they told me to play in the reserves. Prospective employers either told me I was over qualified, or did not actually fit their management team. "Did not actually fit" I had come to understand means not the correct color. I could do many things but changing color was not one of them.

After almost a month I was ready to head home to Montana. I had been staying at the YMCA and had to leave anyway. Now for a country boy just out of Montana, that was an eye opener. We all got along well enough, but not that well, if you get my meaning. But I did make some friends that were pretty nice guys, strike pretty nice and insert good, when they were dressed like guys. They even seemed to be protective of me when some of the other guys came around. I was not to be bothered was the word.

So I am at a Starbucks getting a coffee; ok it was one of those foo foo designer coffees with mocha vanilla foam crap; but it still tasted pretty good. There were a group of guys talking about this PA job in the next building over. I thought, why not, I could do that; it might be a step in the right direction. So I listened in and they were talking about interviews all day long. I headed back to the Y and went to put on the only suit I had; it was nice looking dark grey with light grey pin stripes. I polished my shoes and as I was getting it all together after hitting the shower when one of the "guys" asked what was going on and I told him about the job. He had a bit of a laugh at it and then told me I had to change a few things.

I am five foot ten, slight build, I am called wiry, but with muscles. I run every day and I like to stay in shape. I keep my hair cut short, because I don't like to have to deal with it when I take a bath or after, probably came from the military and working on the ranch. So he gives me a sort of pink shirt with this hand painted tie from Hawaii with some kind of flower on it. He tells me I look perfect and laughs again. What I am is a hick from Montana and he is a drag queen, so I figure he knows more about dressing for the location than I do; at least he did not try to put me into a dress. He tells me to trust him, he knows about the job and I am dressed perfect for it.

Before I headed back down to the job site with resume in hand I jump onto the net and find out about the business. It is one of those all female black owned and operated businesses that deals in clothing; sports, casual and some more formal stuff. But they also engage in manufacturing for other companies.

I got a once over as I found the receptionist and told her I was here to be interviewed. She did have a surprised look on her face but she gave me the initial application and I turned it back in with my resume. It was about noon when this stunning black woman who had to be six foot seven or eight, without shoes on, walked past all of us sitting there and gave us a quick once over. She had to have on three or four inch heels and she was a giant. I smiled, why the hell not, she was fucking gorgeous, but she sort of scoffed at me and walked on past. Well so much for charm.

The interviews went on and on and by three o'clock there were only three of us left and each of us had talked with three other interviewers. I was the last of the three to go into "The Room." The other two had gone in and after ten or so minutes each one had walked out of the room and out of the office. I was the last one called and with a little hesitation I went in.

Behind the desk was the African Goddess I had seen before but now that she was sitting I could see just how good looking she was. I had never been "into" black women but there was just something about her, something that really got to me. She did not smile she just looked through me. The other two did the talking. "What do you think your job entails?' was the first question.

"While I will leave it up to you to tell me the specifics, I believe that my job will be to make sure that all of the things you don't need to be involved in, the so many little things that take up a good part of your day, are handled for you in a matter you would want them taken care of. My job, if I may be so bold, it to free you to do your job, which is run this company, develop new business, see to it that your business plan is being implemented for the business you have. If you don't have the time to do your job, then none of us have a job. I hope that I can help with that." I thought it was a pretty good answer. Oups, wrong again.

"So you want to make all the decisions, you want to run the business while we are just figure heads, do I hear you right?" This one came from the second lady in the room.

"No Ma'am, I did not mean that at all and I am sorry if my answer implied that. It was my fault in not being specific enough. Every day I would watch what you did and how you did it. Those things that seemed to be taking too much of your time and appeared to be repetitive and not worthy of your time, I would ask if I could handle them for you and by then I would already know how you did those tasks. I would be an extension of what you wanted done, not what I wanted done. I would prepare a one page summary of what I did every day and let you look at it the next morning and let you decide if I handled them correctly, listen to your correction and then make sure I would do it according to your instructions. I would include those things on the daily report until you told me you did not need to see a specific event again. I would also prepare a weekly report in more detail with everything, including the things that you had already excluded from the daily, just to keep you informed of what was happening, in case you wanted to change the policy about something. I feel it is important to keep the commander informed as we used to say in the Army. It would be my hope that the time it took to see the daily would be insignificant to the time it would take you to do those tasks yourself." I thought it was a pretty good answer without being obsequious.

Now the Goddess herself spoke. "Will you be able to work for a woman? Do you see any problems with that and with being on call 24/7?"

"No Ma'am, I see no problem with that at all. I am currently staying at the YMCA and I will seek a place to stay close to the office or the person I am to be the PA for so that I can perform as needed."

I was told to wait outside and I could hear them talking. They needed a PA but they also had some EEOC problems and a white man would be prefect. They would have a man and one that was white plus I was just out of the military; and my being gay was a plus too. I was to be their token gay white man vet; wow, three stereotypes in one hire. I had to laugh but I was serious when I was called back in after five minutes. "Gay? Did they say gay? I sure hope they mean happy," I thought.

I have the job but I would have to be more fashionably dressed when I worked here. Another PA, Dorothy, would take me shopping immediately, and I would have to be appropriately dressed by eight tonight. There was an event at the Hilton and I would attend, making notes of discussions. I was not an attendee I was working. I was told I would have a room at the Hilton for that evening.

Dorothy took me out and with a company credit card we went to a nice store and I was fitted for half a dozen pair of slacks, half a dozen sports coats and six suits. They even bought me two dozen shirts and ties. I was taken to the hotel and as I dressed for work, which was a black suit for me, black tie for the guests, I was handed an iPhone and a new iPad. The tools of my trade. The iPhone was already loaded with phone numbers and the iPad had preloaded websites and business information.

Dorothy was so helpful and I thanked her. She smiled and told me not to thank her yet. At ten minutes to eight I was downstairs waiting at the entrance when the phone rang, it showed a picture of my boss, the Goddess. "Where the hell are you Steven?" my boss demanded.

I am in the lobby waiting for you Ma'am. Just then the elevator door opened and my Goddess boss walked out with a tall black man at her side and I fell into step with them. I later learned his name was Russell. As they went through to have their passes checked I just followed her in. One of the men was going to ask for my pass but realized I was just one of the many drones, even if I was white. Everyone at the event, except a few other drones and some staff, was black.

I followed her around, making notes of conversations, and taking pictures of the people she was talking too, as I did not know their names. I stayed invisible; that was easy to do. I made no eye contact with anyone and moved before people asked me to move. I took no food and drank nothing offered. Most of it was social but I kept track of talk of vacations, births, names of children or wives or husbands, every bit of information I could get. I spoke to a few other drones and got the names of the people my Goddess spoke with by showing them the pictures. During a lull in the conversations I was monitoring I would look them up on the net and get some information as to who they were and what they did. My boss, and the black man whose name was Russell were apparently well known in this circle and apparently well liked by everyone. At dinner I sat in a chair against the wall closest to her table, Cynthia Wilson was my Goddess' name, so I could hear the conversation. There was dancing and I stood and waited. Always keeping notes of who was with whom, just for future reference.

About one o'clock Cynthia told me I was dismissed for the evening and to be at work at seven in the morning and to keep my phone on, she might need to contact me. I spoke with some of the other drones and the help and by the time I went back to my room I knew by face everyone in attendance that evening.

When I got back to my room I noticed that Dorothy had left behind a new apple computer for me with a note that everything needed was preloaded. I prepared a report on the evening, and included a report on who danced with whom and how many times. I thought it might be helpful.

At ten minutes to seven I was in the office and waiting for the boss to appear. Dorothy had told me what she liked in the morning by way of coffee and I had it there with a little pastry waiting for her. When she arrived I walked into her office right behind her, getting a "what the fuck do you think you are doing" look as I did so. I poured her coffee into her favorite cup and taking the carry out cup with me I left to wait as the guardian of the gates.

It was not more than ten minutes that another very tall and damn nice looking woman, Georgette Winters appeared and started to walk into the boss's office. I politely stopped her and smiling asked if she had an appointment. She said no and I told her if she would please have a seat I would see if I could fit her in. She laughed and shook her head but did sit down. I gave a quick knock and walked in and told her who was here and without an appointment. She looked up and said "that is my sister you idiot."

"Yes Ma'am, your sister. Next time your sister appears I will allow her to just walk in, I'm still learning but I will try to get it as fast as I can. Maybe later I you can tell me who I should speak with to find out who can enter at will and it will never happen again." Damn I hated starting the day off wrong.

"I am sorry Mrs. Winters I did not realize your status with the company. It will not happen again." I opened the door for her and held it open. I asked if there was anything she wanted and she said no.

It was only a few minutes later that I was called in. The report I gave was now up on a big screen and both ladies were looking at it. They had questions about some of the people they did not know. I told them what I knew about them, having looked them up on the net during the evening. They also had questions about who danced with whom and why I included it. I told them it was just as much business as social and that if you wanted to talk business with someone privately I thought the dance floor was a good place to be private without suspicion. The boss asked if I kept track of who she danced with and I said yes but I did not put it into a report; but I did compile a list of people her partners danced with and it was strange that when she danced with a certain person the next dance for him was with a specific woman and I identified that person for her. Both the boss and her sister thought this was pretty good information and I even sent them a flow chart of what happened that evening, as best I could construct it and they immediately put it on the screen.

What ever I had done must have been right because they smiled at each other as if the information would be worth some further investigation.

Mrs. Winters asked me what I did in the Army. "I was in the infantry Ma'am, I broke things and I made widows and orphans. Now if there is nothing else, I will leave you ladies to your discussion." I wanted to shut down that little dialog as fast as possible and they seemed to know I was uncomfortable with the discussion so they let it drop.

"We have not discussed your living arrangements or your salary yet." It was a statement from the boss, not a question. I own a building not far from here and your presence there would be best. She wrote down the address. You can see them when I go to lunch and have someone go and pick up your clothes from the hotel and the YMCA and have them delivered." I was told to have accounting take care of my pay and with that I was dismissed. I still did not know what I was making but I did not care, I just wanted to be around her. That was pretty damn stupid for a man who needed a job, getting stuck in one and not even asking for salary information. Someone from Human Resources came down and got a lot of information from me and they left.

Dorothy proved invaluable with some of this and she got the people in shipping to head to the hotel and the Y to get all of my stuff.

At noon the boss left with the large man she had been with the prior evening and told me to keep the phone on at all times and to check out the living arrangements. I went over and there were three or four units I could use. One was a penthouse with a great view, two were four bedroom units and one was a studio with a large closet. It took about three and a half seconds to choose the studio apartment, because I knew this was not going to be a place I would spend much time in. The shipping people put the clothes away and I walked back to the office; it all took less than thirty minutes. I was called by Helen from HR and she told me my first months check was now in my bank via direct deposit and welcome to the family. I thanked her. I went downstairs to the bank and made a withdrawal and then I called up a few places to make some arrangements for a proper "Thank you" to each of those who helped me. I went down to shipping and gave them each an envelope and a handshake for helping me move. Each one got one hundred dollars. Dorothy got flowers and chocolates, and I had one of the ladies find out what she liked. Inside the box of chocolate I included two tickets to a play she wanted to see and had mentioned the night she helped me buy clothes. You see I was making a lot of money so why not be generous.

The boss was back around two thirty, looking a little worse for the wear; but happy. I gave her a rundown on the calls, told her about the apartment and thanked her. We talked about which calls seemed important. I stayed in her office as she returned her calls; which surprised her. I quickly learned what was important and what was not.

I spoke with the receptionist and got more information about who called when and what it was usually about. I set up a routine where the receptionist would text me who was on the phone with the information about the call. By the end of three months I owned the position.

There were no more daily reports and weekly reports were changing into monthly reports. I did put in a lot of hours. I was there when she needed me and even when she did not need me. She took me to events just to have me hang around and make her feel important. But I earned my money by taking great notes and learning about everyone in attendance.

I got to see what "lunches" were going to go until three or four without her telling me. Pretty soon I realized how to limit her schedule so that when it was going to be a lunch with one of her men friends that nothing was planed for the rest of that day, just paperwork.

I kept it like in the military. My first sergeant would have all the paperwork sitting on my desk, if you count a card table as a desk, for my signature in the morning. we would talk about what happened when I was not there and what we could do to fix any problems or train to not let them happen again. It was the same with her business.

My life revolved around this Goddess, and yes she was a Goddess to me. I have never been so smitten by a woman in my entire life. She was a very big woman, as I already said, she was damn tall. She had a good nine inches on me without heels. She was big all the way around without looking or being fat. When you are that tall you can't be too skinny and not look like hell. If you saw her from a distance she would be perfectly proportioned and she was. She had long legs and huge tits that would look like basketballs on anyone not as large as her, and black, deep almost purple black skin. Huge African lips, short hair and great eyes. They were dark brown, bottomless brown. She was about thirty two at the time.

When she said I worked 24/7 she means 24/7. I did not have a private life, as it revolved around her and the company. We took trips out of the country to see where some of the material was purchased. We went to our own factories inside the US. I still went to parties and kept notes and by now I had lists of when and to whom to send birthday cards and little presents. I knew all of her associates and their anniversaries. I kept a special calendar of everything that was more personal about those she did business with. I let cards for her to sign with a request about a gift and always gave her a paper with the gift suggestions and cost limitations. Then when she approved it I did it. I still ran daily and did some weight lifting and rode as much as possible.

After the first year I was the keeper of the gate and I kept it shut tight when needed and at proper times the gate was always opened. We developed a great working relationship, and that is all it was for her but not for me. I was in love with this woman. No one looked and saw it; I was supposed to be a gay man. They even gave me tickets to the gay ball and shit like that. The friends that I met originally at the Y were still my friends. They got a kick out of a straight white man going to a gay ball because he got tickets from an all black woman business who would never have hired me if they knew I was straight. I would go to the ball and take one of them and then after we were in I would let them have their fun, these events were closed to everyone else, and I would head out as fast as I could.

Category: Interracial Love Stories