Impulse (Sample)

2. Constant Constance

"You really should come out with us one of these nights, Connie." stated Bev.

"No thanks. I have oodles of stuff I have to do this weekend." Constance claimed.

And all of them are going to way more exciting than getting hit on at some business friendly Happy Hour in this stuffy old valley.

"Man, you never come out with us." Lila whined, making Constance grit her teeth. She hated Lila's whiny nasal voice and wondered how Harrison Charles could stand speaking to his secretary for more than a minute at a time. Maybe it was his English upbringing that kept him from firing her for the sheer reason that she was irritating as hell.

Constance looked over at Bev who was the personal assistance of the COO, Carlton Smith. She could understand why he would keep her around. She was buxom and blonde, sexy without meaning to be and Carl's playboy image would never have had anything less in a personal assistant. Brains and beauty-or at least enough brains to keep her paws away from his manwhore self.

Carl's ego would have blown a fuse if he had employed a plain secretary.

Lila was also pretty, but more traditionally so. She was thin with long legs and silky black hair. Her mouth was full and pouty and her eyes were doe-like.

It was only when she opened that last hole of hers that her model-like looks took a backseat to her kittenish voice that some thought endearing-but most thought was grating.

"I'm convinced she has a a secret boyfriend that whisks her away to a new tropical island every weekend." Bev teased Constance.

Bev and Lila constantly poked fun at Constance about being a boring homebody. They were convinced she would be a future old maid with nothing but books and a few cats as her constant companions.

If only they knew.

Not that Connie would allow anyone to know the real Constance Flaherty.

She'd probably have shocked the s**t out of even the most open-minded of coworkers if they knew the sexpot beneath the timid secretary she played during her workdays.

"You caught me, hon." Constance jokes. "We plan on going to Bimini this weekend and St. Croix next."

She tried to ignore Lila and Bev but they are all chattering about which Happy Hour they would visit this week. Constance blocked out their mindless chatter and mentally made her own plans just as she is finishing up Mr. Kinsley's schedule for next week. With the swipe of a finger, she saved the calendar and sent it to her boss who was literally in the next room having 'guy time' the other managers.

She figured she could get started on the work for Monday morning while the two Chatty Cathy's were twittering away and then she could skip out and make her own exit.

She always made sure she was the last one to leave. At least the last one besides her boss.

She suspected he didn't leave sometimes until way after the office closed for the week. She had even caught him at the office on a Saturday morning when she had to retrieve her Macbook which she had left at the office.

Bev and Lila talked for another 15 minutes before taking their leave. Constance smiled and waved as they left and she looked up as her boss' office door opened and Carlton Smith left Mr. Kinsley's office, a suspicious smile on his lips.

She ducked her head. There was something about Mr. Smith that she didn't quite trust and she avoided him whenever possible.

After Carlton left, the other manager and Kintech's Chief of Security left the room as well, a good 10 minutes after Mr. Smith had left the building in an oddly good mood.

Constance finished up her worked and saved it to her laptop.

After popping the laptop into her large tote bag, she grabbed her keys and walked the short distance to Mr. Kinsley's office.

"Mr. Kinsley, I sent you an email with your schedule for this upcoming Monday and I'm done for the day. Did you need me for anything else before I head out?"

Constance doubted he would need anything further. He had never asked her for more than what she had already completed for him and he was usually more laidback on Fridays especially. She figured he knew that everyone wanted to get the weekend started as soon as possible and let his employees go early, so long as their work was done for the day.

Aiden hesitated just a smidge and looked at her. He was sitting behind his desk with his hands steepled, looking pensive.

"No, thank you Ms. Flaherty." He said finally after a short pause. "Enjoy your weekend."

"You too, sir." And with that Constance headed towards the elevator banks with purpose.

But she didn't leave the building.

Indeed she took the elevator to the first floor, but instead of turning left to exit the building, she did what she normally did at least 3 times a work week and headed towards the ladies bathroom on the right.

Inside the bathroom, she opened up the same totebag she had stashed her Macbook in. She pulled out a couple of pieces of clothing and a pair of pumps.

Walking into the large handicapped stall, Constance's stance loosens a bit like it always does.

She walked into the stall as Constance Flaherty and would soon walk out as Coco.

No last name needed. No one would ever need to know it.

She took off her pencil skirt and shimmied out of her stockings. After she shed her white blouse, she popped them into her bag and pulled up a short jeans skirt and off the shoulder tight white crop top.

Pulling her hair out of the stifling bun on top of her head, she took her thick rimmed glasses off and popped them into the bag along with her other wardrobe.

After popping out of the stall, she bent over and shook her hair out, giving her that sexy just f****d look that never failed to turn a few heads.

She wiped off the minimal lip gloss she used for work and popped on some cherry red matte lipstick that plumped her cupid's bow lips, rendering them kissable.

Constance looked into the mirror. She made a duck face at her reflection and then made sure there was no lipstick stuck to her teeth. As always she inspected her reflection, taking nothing less than perfection.

Office Constance was a stuffy and prim librarian type who didn't have a s****l bone in her body.

After hours Constance, AKA Coco, was lithe and sexy. With a generous bosom and dirty blonde hair she was mostly happy with her appearance. She had curves to spare and deep chocolatey eyes with an aquiline nose over a cupid's bow mouth.

Yes, she was mostly happy with her appearance.

It was her dueling personalities that had her at a loss.

While Constance played the dutiful secretary at work, her nightlife as Coco was nothing if not sensual.

She felt like she might have a problem.

No, she knew she had a problem.

She never made friends or had boyfriends. Women wanted you to chat and needled you to bear your soul and talk about your s*x life where men were just pointless to befriend.

And for Constance, most impossible to befriend. She always would end up in bed with her male friends, hence ruining the platonic relationship she had tried to maintain.

She was a true blue s*x addict. At least outside of the office.

Inside the office, she played the role of obedient secretary like she was slipping on a second skin.

Had she tried to become an actress, she may have been one of the most talented on the planet.

Constance had truly tried to curb her s****l appetite to no avail. Support groups and counseling didn't seem to work and she could only guess as to why.

Her past. She couldn't speak of it to any one.

Constance had a past that she didn't share with anyone. And wouldn't have even if she had someone to share it with.

Before moving to California, she had lived in a small mountain town in in West Virginia where most folks were related and the ones that weren't were probably new to the area or just visiting.

Constance, now Coco with her wardrobe change, shook off the thoughts of her past and walked out the bathroom door and popped on some shades before walking out of the building.

She popped open the trunk to her red Toyota Camry Hybrid and plunked her ass into the front seat of the car. After several slight adjustments to the mirrors, she drove off the lot and took the back roads to her adopted city in nearby Atherton.

She had made the decision in the bathroom that she would go to a local pub only a few blocks away from home, not something she normally did. It was too close for the some of the regulars. She was afraid to be recognized-or worse, followed back to her apartment by an admirer.

As Constance drove home she couldn't help but think of the reasons she was the way she was.

And the people to blame.

She blamed her family. She blamed her parents. She blamed the sovereign state of West Virginia for dropping her ass with so much as a how-de-doo-now-get-lost after she hit her 18 birthday.

There was something seriously wrong with a system that could just drop you homeless without a cent to your name and a foster family that could give a rat's ass where you laid your head that night.

"Connie! Get your ass in here you miserable brat! Your Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Wanda want to say hi."

She ignored her mother and stayed hidden underneath the front porch, slipping under it as she always did through the hole in the trellis.

"Where is that little b***h gone off to?" Her mother came out onto the aging and miskept veranda that at some point in the very distant past had had a fresh coat of whitewash. Constance thought it was probably last painted sometime in the 1950's, before her gene pool had been blessed with a bunch of loud redneck motherfuckers who couldn't give a s**t about their children so long as there was cold beer in the fridge and a plump woman to f**k at night.

Constance sat trembling underneath the wooden boards and trying not to cry. If she cried, she would make noise. If she made noise, her mother would find her. If her mother found her, well-it was probably a switch to the legs and the inevitable inappropriate touching that went on with her Uncle Jimmy underneath the dinner table that her Aunt Wanda and mother would pretend wasn't happening.

Constant watched as her mother's legs made their way off the veranda and onto the steps of the porch.

Please God, don't let her get off the porch, young Constance thought. Make her go back into the house with Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Wanda. She can't see me.

Her mother never got her feet onto the grass below the stairs as her brother Jack called her from the house, wanting food most likely. The boy practically inhaled the fridge every time he was within 30 minutes of a meal.

Yes, go back inside Mama, she thought. Feed Jackie.

She heard her mother take the steps back to the door. The inevitable creaking of the hinges of the screen door were like a balm to her nerves.

Mama made her way back into the kitchen, yelling for Jack to shut his hole while a 12 year old Constance was finally able to take deep breaths into her lungs.

The first breath was sharp and by the time she exhaled, tears were falling in unending rivulets down her dirty cheeks.

By this time in her mental meanderings, Constance made it to a parking spot near the local pub The Taproom. She parked her car in a long term parking lot where she could retrieve it at whatever time was convenient for her.

She slipped out of the driver's seat after checking her makeup in the mirror one last time.

She walked towards the sidewalk with the confidence that was Coco's signature style and straightened her back, making her breasts more prominent.

The last thing she did was slip her wallet in her front pocket.

Not that she ever had to pay for a drink-there were many that would treat her to drinks and she would have her pick of which flavor or man (or men) she could sample this weekend.