Message-ID: <2086eli$9707151107@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo) Subject: New TG: The New Secretary by Amy Brett (03/11) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg,alt.sex.stories.moderated Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <5qfin2$f48@nienor.in-berlin.de> Hi. This nifty submission is not included yet, but it will be in next one during the upcoming weekend. This story is a refelction of the current jobmarket and conclusions which may occur under strange and rare situations. So folks be happy if you had a job. As usual I DIDN'T write this story and haven't any claim on it. If you have some usefull hints or some good coments, your mail is then welcome. Flames, you know, they will be piped to /dev/null. If you are an author and wish to remain anonymouns or just try to avoid the replies to your work. I offer you the chance of posting your stories and collecting the response for you. This offer only stands for story postings and for nothing else. Enjoy the story. Ciao Nostrumo >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< _The_New_Secretary_______________________________________by_Amy_Brett_ 3 We made an agreement between us that anything that we had that another one of us could wear, was fair game. We stopped at the drive-up window of McDonald's on the way home and, in the last few blocks, Margaret asked us to stay at her house as long as we needed to get ourselves together. We had drinks and a two hour style show with all of us participating before sliding into new negligee to talk over our situations some more. Paula and I cuddled and giggled until we fell asleep. 7. Chapter Sunday was the most distressing day I'd had since the day Margaret laid me off. And for a very strange reason. Michelle, we learned, had been living with Margaret since the Monday night before after we'd all talked at the bar. Her decision to stay had been made before the offer for Paula and I to stay as well had even been offered. Paula considered it, decided she should return to her own apartment, and then said she would stay if I did. And I couldn't decide. Of course I liked all three of them. Of course I enjoyed what we'd been doing since Friday. Of course I was on a high from all the attention and compliments I got from the rest of them. But I've been a bachelor with my own home for several years and I've been a male all my life. I was balancing my solitude and "free" space against a complete life change. And it wasn't easy to make a decision, to say the least. There were several things in my apartment that I was concerned about or needed if I was moving, even temporarily. So, after a long leisurely breakfast in our negligee's, I decided I needed to make that trip. I wasn't overly excited about it, but Paula asked if she could come along. My problem was that I wasn't ready for my neighbors to see me (or some strange blond) going into my apartment. I had to go dressed normally. And there was the difficulty of the day. I went to the bathroom and washed my face thoroughly and stored my wig before combing my hair as I had for the last twenty years. (When I stopped having buzz cuts or having my mother comb it for me.) It looked exceedingly strange though my face looked fairly normal with my now nondescript eyes, unremarkable mouth, and plain general look. I took the gold post out of my right ear, knowing several guys who had earrings in the left ear but not both. In the closet, I found my slacks, underwear, shirt, socks and shoes and arranged them to put on. But when I looked at the slightly soiled day-old underpants, decided to wear the panties I already had on instead. It actually felt strange to take the bra off and replace it with a shirt. Paula spent this time dressing in a cute dress and putting on makeup, I noticed, and, strangely, I envied her. I put on my socks and felt the strangeness of my pants over shaved legs. They felt ten times more different than the pantyhose had only two days before. I stepped into my shoes, that also felt sloppy loose, and checked myself in the full length mirror. My first instinct was feminine in the way I looked at myself and, with another almost painful dislocation, I jerked my mind into a more masculine pose. In general, I thought I looked like shit but, in fact, I recognized it for exactly how I'd looked for years. What a depressing thought. When I went back to the kitchen to tell Margaret and Michelle that I was off to the apartment and would be back in an hour or two, they showed little signs of actually disapproving of the way I looked for the first time in two days. Since I felt the same way, I couldn't blame them. Paula came into the room behind me in a calf length red plaid skirt and puffy white blouse that only she, of the three of us, could get away with. "Can I come along?" she said. For a second, I thought no. Then I realized it would be perfectly in character for me to bring her to the apartment with me and that no one would look twice. "Sure. Yeah, I guess. If you want to." She grinned and did a feminine finger wave to Margaret and Michelle before taking my arm as we went to my car out front. Getting into this in a big way, she waited for me to open the passenger door for her before getting in and unlocking my side for me. She took my arm again when we reached my apartment. Some of the apartment house kids were out on the lawn in front when we went in and, since I'd played a little lawn football with them before, waved to me before going on with their game. Mrs. Maxwell, one of the new wives from the other end of the outside walk that went in front of our apartments, passed us and said hello to me. I returned it as she went off to the parking lot. "Paula. There's some beer in the refrigerator if you want one. I just need to put together a little bag with some stuff in it," I said and she nodded. The first thing I needed was my electric razor since I'd never shaved with a blade before and figured that I'd kill myself if I had to. I hadn't needed to shave at all since Friday morning but I knew I'd better before I left to go to an interview the next day. I also got my own toothbrush and toothpaste and a few other things from the bathroom. "Andy?" I heard from the doorway and turned to Paula, who was grinning and leaning against the jamb. "There's some stuff in the refrig that you should take over to Margaret's before it molds if you're going to stay a while." "Yeah. Good idea. There are some grocery bags under the sink if you want to do that. I'm going to change clothes so I have something clean for the next time." "Can I watch?" she said and that took me aback for a second. "What the hell. You've seen me dressed in all sorts of things and totally undressed several times in the last two days. Why not? If you want to." "I want to." I wasn't quite sure what I was hearing in her voice and, when I recognized I was hearing something beyond the words, I wondered what it was and how I should react. I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my socks. With them still in my hand, I unbuttoned my shirt and peeled it off. When I unfastened my pants, Paula was suddenly there with her hands on my chest and her smiling mouth turned up slightly to me. Though I'm only 5'7", I was slightly taller than her. Her mouth opened more as it covered mine. "This is the first time we've really been alone," she said. "And ... it's different when you're a guy. Exciting," she gasped as she almost leaped to kiss me hard. Yes, I was surprised but I wasn't put off. After all, we'd been doing this two nights in a row. The place was different and the way I was dressed at the moment was different. I didn't feel the pressure of her little tits quite so thoroughly when they weren't pressing into mine. But I felt them just the same. I returned her kiss with as much enthusiasm as I had the night before in bed. And gasped just as loud when she slid both her hands down my stomach and into the sides of my pants. But she didn't stop at that, even though my hands were on her bottom over the long dress. She kissed her way down my chest as she pushed my pants and panties down to my knees. She kissed her way down my stomach and, in seconds, into my pubic hair. She looked up at me with a sparkling smile. "I've wanted to do this for a long time," she said and took my penis all the way into her mouth and into a vacuum that took it all the way into her throat. "Ahhh!" I heard myself say as my hands vibrated on her shoulders. She began to move her head back and then forward until her lips were around the base of my penis. She was like a wild woman then. Sucking. Releasing and moving all the way to the tip. Sucking completely. No one had ever done that to me and the surprise and energy of her attack on me made it something that I couldn't control in the least. I didn't even have time to say anything and don't think it would have mattered if I had. I exploded into her mouth, my hand going to the back of her auburn hair. And I kept exploding until she slowed and, finally, stopped, just sucking the small head of it. When I could, I looked down to see my vibrating leg muscles and her smiling pixy face as she dropped its deflated shape against my thigh. I didn't have enough moisture in my mouth to make it work and nothing came out when I opened it. She hugged my legs and almost made me fall over backward. * * * "You make it pretty hard to change clothes," I noted with a laugh as she got up from her knees. "I helped you get your pants off," she said with a smile as she hugged me. "Well most of the way anyway. But now I have an obligation. What can I do for you?" I asked as she nuzzled into my neck. She started telling me how I'd already done what she'd wanted but I wasn't going to let it go like that and thought I had an idea. I sat her down on the edge of my bed, took my pants the rest of the way off, and pulled the panties back into place. "You're so cute," she said with a big grin while she watched me. "But you're a much more what can I say? A more feminine person. You really are into it now, aren't you?" "Yes. I didn't know how much I wanted to do it. My way. Not big tits and spike heels and short skirts. I just like being female." I nodded. I really didn't need the second on my opinion. I went to my bathroom and returned in a few seconds. "Come on. Lay down with your head on the pillows," I told her before laying down beside her and kissing her. She turned her body slightly into me and smiled. I pushed her onto her back enough that I could knead her tiny A-cup as I kissed her until she was moaning and squirming with need. I don't think she noticed me unbuttoning her blouse but she noticed when I pulled her little bra aside and licked her nipple. She curled up around my body and moaned with the feeling of it. When I sucked the little pea sized piece of flesh, she squirmed and even let out a little squeal of pleasure interspersed with giggles. I teased her with that for a long time before she reacted less and, because of that, I got tired of it. While I'd been sucking and licking her nipples, I'd pulled her skirt around her waist so I could rub the smooth front of her full panties. I kissed my way across her stomach as I moved between her legs. She put her arms aside her head on the pillows and looked down at me, wondering what could be next. I rubbed the sensitive spot between her legs as I looked at her and she slowly moved her legs apart. I've known always that guy's penises come in all sizes. You can't help but see some of that in high school locker rooms and infer it in college swimming classes by the varying bulges. Guys always talk about it, too. If you believe talk or dirty books, everyone is 10 inches long and three inches in diameter. I can't conceive of how someone could live with something like that in real life though, I guess, it really exists. But I'm a much more conservative six inches and probably an inch in diameter when I'm hard. When I'm not and particularly when it's cold or I'm afraid, it almost disappears. I pulled Paula's panties down low and saw the other end of the spectrum from the stag movie guys. Paula was embarrassingly small for a guy. Perfect, I thought, for her present role. It may have been five inches long and very straight to an uncircumcised head that was no bigger than the rest. The diameter was smaller than mine. And all of it was clear because she'd shaved her pubic hair. "Do you like my clit?" she giggled, her finger in the corner of her mouth as I looked at it. "Yeah. It's just perfect to lick," I said and proceeded to show her what I meant by taking just the tip into my lips and licking as she squirmed as if she were going to try to go between the headboard and mattress. "And I'm going to finger fuck your little pussy, too," I told her, getting a good glob of the Vaseline I'd gotten from the bathroom earlier. I moved the panty material from between her legs and found what I was looking for as I licked her clit more. She seemed to roll up onto the top of her head as my finger sunk into her further and further, the pitch of her moan going up at the same rate. My finger was inside her to the knuckle when I started moving it to rub all the sensitive parts deep inside. "Oh, God, Amy. Oh! Make me come! Oh oh oh OH OHHHH!" And her tiny head emptied itself sweetly into my mouth. It never stopped as I drank her and stroked in and out of her "pussy." She talked and moaned and squealed and pitched the entire time until I finally stopped it by pulling my finger free and pulling her panties back into place. "Oh, A-Am-Andy. That was so " I didn't wait for her to complete the sentence but got up with a satisfied chuckle to find some clean clothes. I was dressed and had my bedroom the way I wanted it before she sat up, straightened out her clothes, and joined me to empty out the refrigerator and pick out a few CD's to take with us. At Margaret's, I gave the sack of groceries to Michelle and went straight to the bedroom to change. It was just us four "girls" as we made dinner and watched TV until bedtime. 8. Chapter We agreed that the best time to go into the office that Monday morning was about 10, after the weekly management meeting. We'd spent some time deciding the way we'd handle applications and interviews with all of us thinking. After all, between us we'd handled all portions of the business. We'd agreed, of course, not to try for our old jobs. That was a little too dangerous. Michelle suggested I try for the Administrative Assistant's job with the CEO she'd had before and everyone agreed. I was flattered because they outlined the qualifications for me from Michelle and Margaret's inside view. Bill Miller, they said, would want the prettiest girl as a sort of showpiece. It just made it better that I was "efficient and knowledgeable." Since that was Margaret, my former boss's assessment, I was very pleased. Though I hardly knew him, we agreed that Paula should try for the Admin Assistant job with the CFO, Roger Wilson, who was sort of a nerdy number cruncher type. Margaret and I both knew that Paula was great with numbers so this seemed to fit. And, of course, Michelle already had my slot just below Margaret in personnel. We debated about telling our potential new bosses the whole thing so we wouldn't have to be quite so careful but decided we'd have to wait and see. Since Margaret and Michelle were the personnel people we'd be working with, they could keep us out of legal trouble from filling out "inaccurate" applications. We spent part of Sunday afternoon filling out the applications together and coming up with the little fictions we had to manufacture about schooling, names, and backgrounds. Since I really have a sister, we decided that I could sort of "be" her and keep my last name even though, of course, her name isn't Amy. We made up a last name for Paula as Michelle had for herself. It was sort of fun making up backgrounds and work histories. Margaret knew that company policy would land the applications on her desk for verification of the facts. We couldn't see how it could mess her up but we were all concerned, just in case something happened. "For you kids, primarily. But for the company, too, I'd do it. I really don't see any problems if you do your work," she said. "I really appreciate your faith in us, Margaret," I told her. "But I think we need something to protect you. Just in case." So we spent another hour on a document that said we agreed of our own free will to do what we were doing, knowing that it was probably illegal, and took full responsibility for it ourselves. Then all three of us signed it. Now, if one of us decided to try to sue the company or Margaret for some reason, she'd be able to produce it. We spelled out exactly what we were doing, including the changes from male to female and the falsified applications. Margaret added that it was her idea in the first place and signed it as well so she couldn't use it against us any more than we could use it against her. Except, of course, in the case of a real emergency. We made Margaret and Michelle breakfast in our nightgowns and sent her off to work at about 7:15. Paula and I ate and drank a cup of coffee before doing baths, makeup, and clothes. I chose a blue linen suit with a skirt that fell about three inches above my knees, white pumps, and a white blouse with frills all the way around my neck. I wore a couple of feminine rings on my right hand, my Swatch watch, and one of the pairs of earrings I'd picked out when I got them pierced Saturday. Paula looked almost uptight in her black pinstripe suit with a skirt just below the knees, black pumps, a white shirt-cut blouse, and red striped cravat at her throat. We had time for another cup of coffee before, butterflies in our stomachs, we drove my car to the plant. Walking into work was the second hardest thing I'd ever done behind the first trip out to the mall Saturday. We tried not to look too much like we knew where we were going and asked a guy I hadn't met who was in the hallway at the front of the building where Margaret's office was. He grinned all over and looked us both up and down before taking us into personnel. Michelle met us, as we'd agreed, and took us into Margaret's office. Margaret talked to us for a few minutes and got more coffee before she let us both see her recommendation on the interviewer's line at the bottom of the application. They both said "Highly Recommended." We followed her through the long hallways to the head offices. She had me wait as she took Paula into Roger Wilson's office, coming out after a couple of minutes. I took a deep breath as she knocked on Bill Miller's door, listened for the "come in," and led me in. As I'd seen him the few times before, he was looking at papers on his desk and frowning when we went in. He looked up at Margaret who turned sideways and said, "Bill, this is Amy Brett who's applying for the Admin Assistant job. You might recognize her name. She's Andy Brett's sister. He used to work for me and was an outstanding employee." She handed over the application and left. He'd looked up at Margaret but his eyes had immediately slid across her to look at me. His frown immediately changed to a smile as his eyes met mine, scanned down my body, and back up. "Please, sit down, Amy," he said as he came around the desk. I did, very carefully crossing my legs and gulping at the expanse of thigh I could see below my hem. He noticed, too, as he sat down in the other chair in front of the desk. "You're interested in the Administrative Assistant job here," he stated. "Yes, sir," I said. "You have experience with the job?" I nodded. We decided the day before that I would essentially tell him my real qualifications and hope they were close enough to get me the job. "I was in personnel at my last job. Just like my brother here. But it didn't pay very well and, well, Andy told me about what had happened here. With the requirement for women. And I thought it might be a chance for me to get a better position." "Do you understand the requirements of the job?" he asked, looking at my thighs. "Yes, sir. Telephones. Typing. Some spreadsheets concerning budget. Sort of keeping the world off you so you can attend to business." "Door keeper and a few minutes of company in the morning to get the outline of the day and drink that morning shot of coffee." He looked a little more serious. "You know I had a guy who held this job before and he was excellent for me. I could bounce some ideas off him and get an initial idea of what the reaction might be in the company. We were very good friends, I thought, and he was of real service to me in a more informal way. "Would you be uncomfortable with that?" "Maybe I need to know what you mean by informal, sir," I answered but took the sting out of it with a smile. "I've established a very firm sexual harassment policy for the company," he pointed out and I recognized his discomfort. "That will never be a problem. I guarantee it. "It's just that if I have to watch every gesture and movement, I would find it uncomfortable. I just see an easygoing relationship with someone I work closely with a lot easier than an adversarial one." "I doubt it would be a problem, sir," I said. "Of course, an open relationship like that should allow me to say something if I felt I should." "Absolutely. Absolutely," he said sincerely. "If I overstep somehow, I want you to pull me up short immediately. I just want to be able to treat you like any other co-worker." "It shouldn't be a problem, sir," I said with a smile. That's certainly the kind of working relationship I like. "Okay. If you're going to be sitting outside my door all day every day, please call me Bill or Mr. Miller when there's someone important from outside. Okay?" "Yes, ah, Bill. Does that mean, I can work here?" I asked hopefully. "That's what I'm saying. Margaret recommends you. Unless there was some total incompatibility, that would be the stumbling block. I really think you'll be an asset to the company." "Thank you, s ... ah, Bill," I grinned. "When should I start?" "Well, whenever you're available. Do you need time to find some place to stay?" "No. Not really. Andy left town and I'm going to see if I can get his old place." "Good, good. Then whenever you're ready." "Let me check on my, ah, girlfriend. She is interviewing with Mr. Wilson. She'll be in tears if she doesn't get the job. But, if there's no problem, I guess I could start right away." "Here," he said getting up. "Let me call Roger and find out what's up." He rounded his desk, sat down, and picked up the phone, dialing the three digits from memory. "Rog? Bill. What do you think of your interviewee?" He listened for a second. "Okay then. I'm hiring her friend so I'll send her down and they can go to personnel to fill out the W-4's and things together, right?" Pause. "Yeah. She's willing to start today, too. Just checking to see if she needed to commiserate with her friend." Pause. "Good. Great! Yeah. Talk to you later." He looked up at me as he hung up. "He's very impressed with ... was it Paula?" I nodded. "Can you find your way back to personnel okay?" "Yes. No problem. If we get lost, we'll explore until we find our way back anyway. We'll need to know where things are anyway." "Right. Oh. One other thing," he said as I stood up. "I generally only have a cup of coffee in the morning and maybe one in the afternoon doldrums. It definitely isn't part of your job but ..." "It's no problem, sir. I mean, Bill," I said. "I mentioned that I'd like to share coffee with you in the mornings. The afternoon break would be a good time for any problems or anything, too. Anyway, go fill out the forms and take a good look around the place. Margaret will introduce you around. Just let me know when you get to the desk so I can stop answering the stupid telephone." "Yes, sir," I said and went out the door, looking back and shrugging at my inability to stop calling him "sir." He smiled broadly and went back to his work. At least, he went back to work after looking me up and down again thoroughly. Paula, all smiles, came around the corner as I closed the door behind me. * * * "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Yeah. Right. Fine. Okay." Listening to one end of the conversation between Bill and Margaret was more than a little frustrating. A few chuckles. Smiles for us when she looked up. And a lot of agreement. Finally she hung up and looked at us. "He wants to start both of you at about what you were making when you left," she said with a smile. "Says he wants to be able to show real progress if the EEOC comes back and needs you two to do that. That and he wants your salaries to be beyond argument. "Even better, there's normally a 6 month probation." We both nodded, remembering it. "You're on a fast track, I guess. One month probation to full benefits and consideration of a raise. I'm jealous." We were just excited. That sort of thing only happened when they hired somebody high up. Even though I wrote some of the personnel documents, we took our time reading and signing everything before Margaret took us around the building to introduce us to everyone. It was really interesting to see the different ways people reacted to us even though we knew most of them from before and they didn't treat us anywhere close to the same. The women didn't seem to have much time for us and they'd been fairly friendly before. They were "cool" now. The men, on the other hand, had all sorts of time, energy, and eyes for us. If I could pass this progression of thorough inspections, I could go anywhere. Of course, if I walked into a room dressed exactly the same but without the breasts, none of them would recognize me. She left us off at our new offices after showing us the cafeteria and feeding us on the company. I knocked on the door and went in with the word. "Hi. I think I'm all signed up now and ready to work." "Have you had some lunch?" I told him I had. "Okay then. Please answer the phone as 'Mr. Miller's office' and take a look at the computer to see how Mike left it set up. If you have any problem, just yell and if I can't figure it out, maybe we can search around for someone who can." "Yes Bill," I said pointedly. "See. You're catching on already," he said with a big grin. I shut the door behind myself and sat down behind the desk to turn on the computer. It took the normal extended time for Windows95 to run up before a graphics program started up automatically and a full screen picture of a pair of huge, cartoonish tits filled it. Large words drew in across them that said "Great set, baby! Mike." As I dumped the file and got it out of the StartUp group, I called Michelle and told her Bill wanted to talk to her about the graphic she'd put on the computer. She gasped before I laughed. "What if he really had checked out the computer before I got back?" I asked. "He would have thought that mean old Mike left it," she said. "And he would have agreed. >From what I heard, that's all he looked at in your interview." "Any more surprises on here?" I asked and she chuckled. "Sorry. Nope. If you have any trouble, just yell." "Thanks." I hung up with a smile on my face. I grinned some more as I went through the folders and found it perfectly ordered, well thought out folders and filenames, and easy to locate major files with long filenames so they were easy to identify. Nothing was particularly difficult. The word processor had a separate memos folder by date, a letter folder by date, and another for reports. Some were fairly long, I noticed. The spreadsheets were easy to identify and so well formatted that all I'd have to do is put in new numbers and print. There were a dozen different presentations that looked well done and some, given to the staff, were familiar. There was also a contact manager, a phone directory, a net browser, and an appointment calendar with 2 p.m. blocked out each day for "consultation." That, I realized, must be coffee time. Since it was about five till, I buzzed the intercom and asked how he liked his coffee. "Just black, Amy. My cup is in here." I got up and went in. He handed me a big mug with "Stay Awake!" in screaming words across the sides. "Get one for yourself, too," he said. I remembered about coffee time and didn't need to be told. But I nodded. I dropped off the mug in the coffee room and, gulping to myself, went into the women's room, realizing that I had to use that room just at the last moment. Of course, I sat down to empty my bladder before straightening everything and leaving the stall. I was pulling my blouse down, my skirt hiked up on my thighs in front of the full length mirror, when the door opened and a little secretary I'd seen a few times before and had been introduced to that morning came in. Making a note to myself not to do that again, I straightened the skirt as she went into one of the stalls. I was just touching up my lipstick when she came out and brushed her hair quickly. "You're Mr. Miller's new secretary, right? How's it working out so far?" "Fine. I haven't really had a chance " "He's a good looking guy," she interrupted. "And rich, too. You're really lucky. Did he, like, want anything special before he'd hire you?" I honestly didn't understand her question and, I guess, looked it. "You know. Like, did he want to see your tits. Mine did and that was okay. But he told me that to keep my job I can't wear panties anymore," she said with a giggle. "That's illegal!" I said, letting my HR experience leap out. "Yeah, well. I wanted the job and he and I get along real well even if he is married. You know?" "You should complain," I pointed out. "I'm sure Mrs. Conklin would " "What about?" she giggled. "Cause he checks out my puss every now and then?" She shook her head and never stopped smiling as if that were a stupid idea. "I like it as much as he does. Sometimes, he even gets me off," she giggled again. Now I needed to remember who her boss was and keep an eye out. I definitely didn't need to get caught in a copy room with the asshole or something. And I needed to warn Paula and Michelle, too. "Do any of the other girls, ah, do that sort of thing with their bosses?" I asked, wondering how widespread it might be. "Marva's boss has been stroking her since about the second day she came to work," she said. "Stroking her?" I asked, hoping it wasn't what I thought. "Yeah. Fucking her. You know. She loves it. Says it gets her going in the morning. "Linda had to give her boss a blowjob to get the job in the first place and at least I don't have to do that." She made a face. I placed her now and remembered all these girls from the marketing department. "I think every girl in the department is doing a little something. But there are benefits, you know. Like Linda got to go to a big conference in Las Vegas a few months ago." I could only shake my head in wonder at her stupidity. "So you didn't have to do nothing?" she asked again. "No. Huh uh." She shrugged like she pitied me. I dried my hands and left wondering now if I just hadn't been approached yet or if Bill was unaware of the potential problem. Then I wondered what I should do about it. I knew I needed to talk to Margaret, Michelle, and Paula soon. My encounter in the bathroom changed my feelings about my job completely and it took real effort to be calm when I took the coffee back to Bill's office. I sat the coffee on his desk and watched him pick it up and carry it around to the front to sit in the chair in front of it as he gestured to the other for me. Like a gentleman, he waited for me to sit and cross my legs carefully before he sat down as well, his knees two inches from mine. "Okay. You've been here a couple of hours. How are you doing so far?" he asked. I decided not to let my concern about what the girl in the restroom had said affect me. "Your secretary before was great," I pointed out factually. "Everything's very orderly and understandable. I won't have any trouble at all picking up." "You've worked with all the programs?" I nodded. He sat back, cradling his coffee and looking at me. "You're a very pretty girl, you know," he said with a smile. "Thank you," I said but it made me a little uncomfortable. "Do you have a boyfriend?" I could honestly shake my head and the smile came naturally at the thought of the little duplicity. "You're not dating?" "No." "Do you drink?" "Moderately. Mostly beer or an occasional drink." "That's reasonable. I usually have to have a drink to unwind when I get home at night." "Have you been married, Bill?" "Once. I'm divorced. No kids, thank goodness. She's a career lady and her work led her to New York. Long distance relationships, even marriages, don't work." "How long were you married?" "Four years." "And still no kids?" "No. We both wanted to wait and by the time we could have been ready, we could both see that things weren't working out very well," he said. "Was it bad?" "Not really. We just grew apart slowly and found we didn't need each other the way we had when we got married." "Do you date?" He nodded. "Occasionally. But nothing very constant or long term." "Are there any projects coming up that I should know about?" "Here in about two days we have to work up the monthly budget and get some numbers ready for the Board of Directors' meeting next Monday afternoon. I'll help you with that, of course. It shouldn't be a problem." This time I nodded agreement. "I have a couple of memos you can type. I've tried dictation Mike didn't do shorthand but could do the dictaphone but usually it's just easier to scratch it out on paper. That may take you a little getting used to but ask questions until you can recognize what I'm writing. You're not going to hurt my feelings by telling me my handwriting sucks. I already know it," he laughed. "Oh, and there may be some overtime next week. We have a project to bid on and we'll have to put together a proposal." -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /