The leaves had long gone from the trees and the air was chill with the early morning frost. The sunlight shone weakly through the haze of clouds, and the mist sat low over the ice crisp grass. Jennifer always walked through the park on her way to work. It was her little ocean of Zen in the big city. She could get off the subway and walk out into a seemingly different world, one where everything was still and at peace. It was almost possible to drown out the sound of the cars along park avenue, the taxi's honking the millisecond the lights turned green, and even the tramps wrapped in their newspapers and tatty clothes asleep on the benches as she walked past. The tall buildings on each side of the park were silhouetted against the morning sunrise as she stepped back onto the street to carry on towards the office.
She pushed open the glass doors into the lobby. Her heels made their little staccato sounds against the cold black granite of the entrance floor. She was still young to be an executive, but she had gained her respect from others. The receptionist greeted her as she walked past, the same as the poor woman had to do to everyone, her fake smile unreflected in her dull grey eyes. Jennifer waited for the elevator to arrive and the cleaning lady stepped out with an all too happy mood for so early in the morning. It wasn't even 9 yet. She reached her floor unmolested by any other occupants and made quickly for the sanctuary of her office.
The coffee pot was already waiting for her, she loved the rich smell but hated the taste. It was always so rich and sensuous, but the bitter taste afterwards made her wish she hadn't bothered. Kind of like sex really. She loved having guys take her out and loved her various lovers and their ways, but it always seemed so sour in the mornings, so fake. When she'd finally got her own office she'd christened it the first day with some intern who just happened to be in the building. She remembered her own internship as a law student, and smiled fondly with the memories of her "training". Her mail was on her desk, little other than the usual pro bono and junk. She had a meeting later with several of her co-workers on a case but that wasn't for a couple of hours. She gazed out the tinted window at the skyline, the tall buildings seemed so sterile and inhuman. Deep in her musings, she didn't hear the knock at the door.
"Miss Taylor, there's a gentleman here, he said he had an appointment with you. He says he's a journalist."
Jenn nodded to let the guy in, she had no appointments but it wasn't like she had much else to do 'til her meeting either. He stepped past her secretary and she rose to greet him. The suit he wore was fairly expensive and well tailored, it sat well at his broad shoulders and the dark grey silk was flattering to the flecks of grey that accented his thick brown hair. He wore a tight black t-shirt underneath that showed his figure as being a lot fuller that one at first might have expected from his frame. Middle age had obviously hit him and had not been so kind.
"Steven Falconer, Ma'am. I was wondering if I might...erm, ask you some questions about a client of yours." His eyes failed to meet hers as he talked. They were too busy following the contours of her legs and bust as she stood there in her skirt and blouse.
"Please have a seat Mr Falconer, and tell me if there's anything I can do for you."
She left the heavy accentuation on purpose. Her only enjoyment during the day was playing with the various people who wandered into her office. She seated herself atop her desk and crossed her legs languorously. She knew from where he was sitting in front of her he was getting a good eyeful of her slim thighs and probably the tip of her suspenders under her skirt as she perched on the desk corner. He was beginning to redden as he kept trying to check himself from gazing lustfully at her body.
"I needed to talk to you about a certain client you are currently defending on fraud charges. Despite the whole...erm, client confidentiality..." The poor guy really couldn't help himself and she just couldn't help curling her lips in a smile. "To be frank, Miss Taylor, I was hoping that you could shed some light on whether or not there is going to be a pay off because of the immense sums involved or if your client fully intends to try and win his really, truly, ...erm ...hopeless case against the state?" He managed to finish himself without losing too much sense.
She almost felt sorry for the poor guy. His wedding band was tight on his finger, it obviously hadn't come off anytime recently, probably neither had his wife's underwear by the way he was practically drooling at her. She took a step that probably if she had been getting any recently she wouldn't have done, but at that point the idea made her smile wickedly. She could feel herself getting damp, she wasn't wearing any panties under her skirt, she never did because the feeling of the cold air made her feel deliciously accessible, and her skirt brushed against her shaven mound. She slid herself off the desk, making sure that he had every opportunity to see exactly that as she uncrossed her legs and walked to the coffee machine at the side. She smiled at him, and he weakly tried to smile back, crossing his legs in a vain attempt to hide the erection she had already noticed.
"How is your wife doing Mr Falconer? May I call you Steven? I noticed your wedding band. Do you have any kids?" Not that she cared but it might make him feel better not to think of her ass bent over in front of him and she looked in the cupboard for coffee she didn't need.
"Well, Miss Taylor, we have two kids." He cleared his throat, and relaxed a barely noticeable amount. "Both of them are in college now, but my wife and I separated about 4 years ago. I just never got around to taking it off." The sadness in his voice was unmistakeable, but she was too far gone to turn around and just talk about the case now.
