The collision left Jon unsteady on his feet and he somehow found himself falling forward towards Mrs. McMillan as she fell backward, the two of them tumbling into the supply closet that had been Jon's initial destination. Worse still, some how the back belt loop of Jon's work khakis caught on the door handle, pulling the door closed behind them, leaving Jon awkwardly standing over the fallen form of the woman who was ultimately the boss of both him and his mother.
Even discombobulated from falling on her rear, Susan was undeniably beautiful, and Jon had to stop himself from staring down her top as she got back to her feet. Today she was wearing a yellow and white sundress that probably cost more than Jon's entire wardrobe and he was desperately hoping he hadn't in some way dirtied or damaged the garment. Rising to her feet, she was actually a bit taller than Jon due to her heels. She stared down at him and as he locked eyes with her, he gulped and noticed two things, her eyes were the clearest blue he'd ever seen and they were not happy. He knew he needed to say something but his words caught in his throat and he just kept staring wide eyed.
Susan McMillan had been having a lovely late afternoon at the Hills with her friends, Claire Saunders and Virginia Kord, or at least she had been before being so rudely bowled over by this kid. She noted with some annoyance that it was the same busboy that had been awkwardly staring at her earlier, a pimply unathletic guy around her daughter's age. The fact that Jon was the son of her PA was totally lost on her, since Susan was never the sort to get invested in her employees' lives. He wore the same red company polo and khakis that most of the club's lower level staff wore, and at the moment was just sort of staring at her with his beady brown eyes, seemingly dumbstruck.
"I'm waiting for an apology," Susan commanded while arching one perfectly sculpted eyebrow, and folding her arms below her perfect breasts. Susan knew she was stunning, and knew how to use it to look intimidating when she wanted to. Over the last 16 years, Susan had become accustomed to being respected and even feared by all the little people of Lakeview and people did not simply knock her down without consequences; for heaven's sake, he could have broken her ankle just a week before the club's spring tennis tournament. If he had she'd have had him fired on the spot, however, as she felt mostly fine after landing on her well padded rear, she'd content herself with making the boy grovel a bit, provided he got to it.
Susan owned a significant percentage of the club, even if those shares were an insignificant part of her larger assets. After the death of her husband Richard, Susan had inherited totally, despite the complaints of some distant cousins, and was a multimillionaire, owning McMillan Industries, a large amount of real estate and of course her expansive stock portfolio. It was all she ever wanted and she relished in her wealth, especially after Richard had finally kicked the bucket; perhaps it was no surprise that she'd never felt any genuine affection for her much older paramour, but, despite that, she'd always kept up her end of the bargain. She'd been the dazzling candy on his arm at society events, satisfied his sexual desires, and given him a child in Sarah. It was only fair she get something in return, and now that she was oh so sadly widowed, she was the queen of the McMillan empire.
The club was a very small part of that empire, but one she liked frequenting, enjoying drinks or brunch with her friends, hitting the tennis courts or playing a round of golf. Or even occasionally enjoying a little mid-afternoon tryst with her tennis instructor, Dawn or golfing coach, Greg. Susan was bisexual. It was kind of funny to be the rich older partner, who the young pretty things flocked to, considering how she got here. Of course, she was still relatively young and quite pretty herself, unlike Richard, and she also wasn't looking for anything serious, simply enjoying the physical release and the power she felt from the dynamic. That's why she was in the back staff section, having just finished a thoroughly enjoyable quickie with the ever eager to please Dawn. She'd been on her way towards the door, intending to hop in her convertible and drive home, before this still floundering peon so rudely interrupted her.
She was about to tear into the boy for his continuing dead fish impression, when she blinked in confusion. Jon was still staring at her with his piercing blue eyes, but Susan could have sworn they were brown moments ago.
