Brenda sat in the lobby, alone, waiting impatiently. She watched the nervous bounce of her knee and willed her leg still. She'd been given specific instructions on what to wear by the headhunter.
"Dress conservatively. Business attire in black, dark gray, or navy blue. Minimal jewelry, minimal make-up. Think no-nonsense professional. Sexy underwear."
It was that last comment that kept echoing in her mind as she waited.
"Sexy underwear."
She'd opted for black lace stockings, bra and panties under a dark gray suit with a white blouse. She glanced over at her shadowed reflection in the glass window. She looked good. She took a deep breath, then another, willing her racing heart to slow down.
Glancing back at her reflection she imagined herself sitting there in her underwear. The way the panties clung to the curves of her ass. The way the bra cupped her full breasts. The way the stockings sheathed her long legs. She felt a small flutter of anticipation in her stomach.
This had been the strangest interview process she'd ever been through. It started with the usual review of her qualifications, the usual questions about her past work experience. A pen and paper psychological assessment, then a follow up interview with an actual psychologist. Throughout the process there had been strange questions, personally probing questions. Some of them echoed in her mind -- her views on violence, her views on sex work, her views on sexual deviance, her views on morality and legality.
MVC was a private equity firm that provided services to select clientele. Emphasis on a full range of services, without divulging the details of those services. MVC was well-known in certain circles. Well known for the portfolios it managed, well known for notorious and notoriously rich clients, and well known for its discretion. It had a dozen divisions with vague names. Every year, it pulled the best and the brightest from a variety of sources and they vanished into the labyrinth of its contracts.
When the headhunter had called her, the call came out of the blue. Curiosity got the best of her and she followed the process through. That brought her here, to this moment, and to instruction to wear sexy underwear.
"Miss Steele?"
She started at the voice. A young-looking man in a dark grey suit had silently entered the lobby from the stairwell and stood there holding the door open.
"Yes, I'm Ms. Steele."
"Welcome to Mason, Valance, and Cherbourne. The partners are ready for your interview, if you'll come with me, I'll take you up."
She stood up, picked up her briefcase and crossed the lobby floor to where he stood, holding the door. He gestured her through and followed her into the stairwell.
"We're only up one flight. The conference room overlooks the river."
"You've got a great location here." she said as she started up the broad stairwell.
"Thank you. It's a great place to work. I'm Scott, a security associate. We're a secure facility and so my job is to escort you during the interview process."
He gestured toward the slim black camera mounted in the stairwell.
"The facility is completely monitored in the non-private areas. As you can imagine MVC takes our obligation to protect our clientele very seriously. We are the keepers of the secrets of many of our multinational clients and provide them with a very wide range of services."
They reached the top of the stairs and Scott opened another door. Brenda went through into a dimly lit, impersonal, reception area. The area was mostly empty, the few pieces of furniture substantial and with delicately ornate trimming, a large wood and steel desk, a luxurious office chair, and two heavy overstuffed leather couches. The trim on the light fixtures was a soft rose gold. Brenda imagined she could smell the money oozing out of it.
Scott walked over to the wall, gesturing to her to follow.
"Stand here."
Brenda moved into position.
"This is just a formality."
Scott pressed one of the wall panels and with a nearly silent click a crack appeared in the wall. Scott took the hidden door, pulled it open, and then pushed it back into the wall. A slim black camera on a matching tripod sat in the middle of the cabinet. A single piece of paper lay beneath the camera. Scott picked the paper up.
"Please read this into the camera."
She took the piece of paper, glanced down at it, swallowed nervously and then read it aloud.
"My name is Brenda Steele. I am here of my own free will, understanding the nature of the interview I am about to take for a position as an Associate Client Services Representative with Mason, Valance and Cherbourne. I hereby agree to participate, of my own free will, without coercion or other inducement, in the interview process, with informed consent. I have signed all required NDA's and release documents."
"Thank you, Ms. Steele." Scott said, stepping up beside her.
"I am Scott Wallace, Security Associate, and representative of MVC. I have witnessed Ms. Steele's consent and I verify that all necessary documents have been signed and filed. I will remain available throughout the interview process should Ms. Steele, at any time, elect to retract her consent and terminate the interview process."
Scott reached out and carefully closed the cabinet.
"Right over here."
Scott led her to a door against the back wall. As they approached Brenda heard a quiet click as some sort of automated lock released. Scott opened the door and escorted her into the conference room. Like the reception area, the decorative style was heavy wood, steel, and rose gold lighting. A single large conference table sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by six luxurious leather chairs. A single recessed light in the ceiling filled the room with a soft, warm glow.
Scott pointed to a small globe of dark glass in the corner of the room.
"The room is fully monitored, audio and video. I will be outside in the reception area for the duration of the interview monitoring the feed live. Should you, at any time, wish to terminate the process simply say "Terminate, Terminate, Terminate" and I will be right there. You'll begin the interview sitting right here."
He pulled a chair at the edge of the conference table out for her. Brenda stepped up and sat down. Butterflies were dancing in her stomach.
"I wish you all the best Ms. Steele. Enjoy the interview." Scott said, then, walking around the table, he reached underneath it. She heard another quiet click, and he pulled out a long lead that terminated in a black leather cuff. He moved a bit and repeated the process.
Brenda caught her breath, looking at the twin corded leather restraints laying starkly on the tabletop. She swallowed nervously. Scott gave her a smile and silently left the room. She heard the lock click behind him as the door swung shut.
A few moments later, there was another slightly audible click and one of the panels opposite her opened into a door. The door swung open, and she had a momentary glance into the room beyond the door, at a office cubicle area, then a man stepped into the doorway. He was wearing a navy-blue suit, a white dress shirt, and a muted, striped Oxford tie. He was tall, well over six feet, with an athletic build and a graceful walk as he entered the room. He was carrying a leather-bound folder in his hand.
"Ms. Steele." he said as he walked over and stood opposite of her by the table.
"My name is Anton Cherbourne. I am the director of client services."
