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Lagniappe
(Be honest. Do my hot mortgage teaser rates make you horny, baby? Do they?)
The fiftyish woman entered the inner office. "What can I do for you, Ms. Falk?"
The woman seated behind the desk was by appearances fresh out of college, and taller than her by a head. She gestured toward the client seated to the side her with an air of poise-still-under-development. She wore a striking red dress--barely appropriate for an office - its deep neckline drawing attention to her ample bust. The knit fabric fit snugly at the waist, going on to flare slightly before ending a good distance above the knee, inviting a glimpse much further up to anyone low enough. Her figure was fuller than average though just shy of obesity, a kind of fullness that made such attire seem like she was trying too hard, as though she were insecure about how her body might be perceived and so she wanted to lean into a highly revealing style only that much harder. From her vantage point at the large oaken desk, she exuded authority but of a highly tenuous kind, every gesture calculated yet hesitant. Nevertheless there was something intriguing in the way she carried herself--simultaneously coy and overt, and undeniably aware of the effect she could have on a man who had base intentions of his own.
"The question," she replied, "is what you're going to do for our client. Mr. Thompson just finished signing the mortgage paperwork. Once we're done here, please see to it that all this is sent off to both realtors for the closing."
"Of course. 'Done here?' Will there be something else?"
Ranni Falk half-suppressed a snicker and shot a glance toward the man. "Could be. Look, where are my manners? Mr. Thompson, this is Antonia McKibbin. My assistant."
"Toni," the assistant amended.
Though no longer youthful, Antonia still possessed an undeniable charm. In fact, her features were more pleasing than Ranni's--her face a soft blend of symmetry and warmth, framed by dark hair cut just above her shoulders. Her thighs, fuller than they once were, carried her weight without a trace of Ranni's self-consciousness. Yes, she had gained a few pounds over the years, but they had by now settled into her body with ease, the 145 pounds well-distributed on her petite 5'4" frame. (By contrast, her boss, still young but burdened by a sedentary lifestyle, surely weighed in at well above 200.) Antonia's eyes, a deep brown, retained their youthful intensity, and her lips--unmistakably soft--seemed to hold more allure with age. Today, her attire was neat yet sophisticated; she had opted for a below-the-knee gray plaid skirt that balanced the fullness of her figure. The blouse she wore, white and crisp, was unbuttoned just enough at the top to hint at the understated push-up bra beneath, which gently lifted her modest bust. The open-toed pumps were a quiet detail of elegance, her shiny nails- another detail in which she excelled her employer - just visible enough to catch the eye of anyone looking - a detail it seemed Thompson was interested in if his furtive glance to the floor when she had entered the boss's lair was any indication.
"Yes. We met when I came in," the trim and distinguished-looking man told Ranni, looking up toward the newcomer.
"Your wife's a lucky woman," Antonia remarked with a guileless smile.
Thompson shot a brief inquiring look in Ranni's direction, then paused for another beat before replying to the newcomer, "you could get lucky too. If you want to."
"I meant, you are buying your wife a very nice house," Antonia restated, her smile never faltering.
"You've seen it?"
"No, no," she told him, "but when it's a jumbo mortgage, can it be anything but nice? And yours is more than the average jumbo, even. I haven't seen one this big before. It's amazing. There needs to be another word when it's bigger than just jumbo. It's impressive."
"We're still talking about the mortgage, right?" he asked leadingly, uncrossing his legs. His sand-colored slim-fit stretch chinos flattered his toned body and didn't disguise much-- and that seemed intentional. She let her eyes drift for a beat too long and learned something about him that most women would rather not even know: he, like most men, dressed to the left.
"Oh," she said, at last looking away from him in embarrassment. "That came out wrong, didn't it? Yes, I mean the mortgage of course. I'm rambling, aren't I?" After a couple of seconds of uncomfortable silence she looked back at him and spelled out, "I'm happily married," after which she cleared her throat in apparent chagrin at having made things even more awkward instead of less.
Ranni rescued her from the silence, cutting in with a forced lightness. "Toni's new and part-time. She wasn't around the other days when you came in, but she already handles a lot of the behind-the-scenes stuff for me. She's *very* experienced."
"I'd be curious to know just what *else* she handles for you, with all that experience," he said, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth betraying suppressed amusement at his own perception of cleverness. He shifted in his seat again, and his increasing erection became more evident with each passing second, due to the thin fabric of his trousers. A tiny wet spot had become visible at the inseam, suggesting he could have been thinking ahead to this encounter for hours now - also that he might have opted to go commando this day. The arrangement of anatomy and attire could hardly be comfortable at that moment, and he squirmed again, adjusting himself slightly.
"Oh yes. I'm a little bit curious how much more she can handle, too," Ranni replied, pulling open a bottom desk drawer. "She might have talents I don't even know about yet." The potential for a double meaning was clearly not lost on her. "In the office, of course," she added.
"You're both leaving me way behind, I'm sure," Antonia said evenly, directing her remark more to him, with just a trace of a smile that made her seem older, wiser--and maybe a bit unsure.
"It's just a little banter, Toni," her boss countered. She extracted one bottle plus two small glasses from the open drawer and put them on her desk. "Don't be so inhibited. We're all grownups, aren't we?"
"What's that for?" she asked in regard to the items.
"For?" Ranni echoed. "A mortgage of this magnitude deserves a grownup celebration. A toast. Don't you think?" she replied, opening the bottle and pouring a shot of amber liquid into each of the two glasses. "A little lagniappe."
"Lagniappe? Is that a kind of wine? It doesn't look like wine."
"I thought lagniappe was from the Kama Sutra," Thompson smirked, then ruined the joke by needlessly spelling it out. "A sexual position, you know?" His posture heretofore had been hardly subtle, but now he splayed his left leg fully out for better comfort, putting his rather impressive erection on full display to her if she wished a clear view. She looked away toward her boss, seeming abashed at his forwardness -- both the bold words and the undisguised body language.
Ranni shot the client a glance of reproval, then told her underling, "no, it's not wine, Toni. It's whiskey of course. A pretty damn good one. But lagniappe... that's not even a drink," she explained with a half-smile, struggling to keep the act together. "It's not anything -- uh, specific. It's just... well, something JJ taught me before he left town. I guess it's a little something extra. I never looked it up. A way to sweeten the deal, you know? Always give the client a little extra... as a thank-you. Mr. Thompson understands how much I appreciate the opportunity to service him." The man snickered and she clarified primly, "ahem, his mortgage needs."
He straightened up and adjusted the positioning of both his legs to be a bit more circumspect. He picked up his glass which Ranni had nudged toward him. Antonia hesitated, staring at her own glass like it might bite her. "For me?" she asked. "I hardly ever drink. Goes straight to my head. Aren't you having any?"
"Gotta drive to La Mierda right after we're done here," the young woman elaborated, using the local slang term for the nearest city, El Cuenca, beyond the high mountain pass and outside the Duo Lakes region. "Can't afford another DUI."
"Go on," the guest urged Antonia, "I need someone to toast with. For good luck, you know. Make a toast."
The shorter one picked up her shot glass. "Just, I mean, don't get the wrong idea from me having a sip at this hour," she said with a wry smile, holding out the glass for him to clink with, studiously keeping her eyes up there with his.
"A sip? Come on, live a little. It's five o'clock somewhere. Back east, right? Or, just think of this as an early start on happy hour." he coaxed, holding his glass her direction in salute but not attempting to touch yet. "TGIF, you know?"
"Yeah, I bet JJ already has his drunk on by now with his Massholes in Bahstahn," Ranni commented.
"Nah, nah, I'm a lightweight," Antonia reiterated, then returned to the matter at hand. "But, to many years of happy life in your new home," she proposed woodenly. "For you... and your wife."
"And to below-market mortgage rates, a monthly payment I can live with, and to talents," he began - his voice faltering slightly - then he smiled and continued, "obvious ones, and... maybe other talents... behind closed doors?," completing the meandering toast with a touch to her glass and then downing his drink in a single gulp.
Ranni nodded. "Yes. The door. Why don't you go ahead and close it?" she asked her number two in response to the phrase.
Antonia took a small sip from her glass. "Why? There's no one else here."
Ranni scoffed in mild annoyance. "Well, because I'm the boss, and you're the employee, and I asked you to, and you have to. For starters."
Antonia moved a few steps back and latched shut the inner office door. "That's better," the man interjected. "Now what were we saying about hidden talents?"
