Copyright PennameWombat November 2018
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
*****
It had been a rough morning with the tag-team presentations from the lab rats. I think it had two causes. First, most of these folks were somewhere on the genius scale when it came to writing their software, but when you put them in front of living people they didn't always carry that same competence across. But the second one was probably Major General Miller being in the room, in full uniform with his two big silver stars and to these guys at the lab before today just a name on some org charts. These briefings were for his egghead professor civilian advisers but he'd made a last-minute decision to attend today. I'd given the local lead project manager Evelyn the expected eggheads attending and she'd prepped the folks here but she hadn't had time to warn them about Gen. Miller including himself.
Oh well. At least most of the technical questions the professors had were getting answered despite stammers and bad grammar. I knew Gen. Miller himself had a BS in physics which probably explained why he owned this project. But his rare questions had gone more to timing and delivery. He was a solidly built man with a voice used to giving orders which he expected to be obeyed. A stereotype but he used it I'd found.
Evelyn came up to me as I was getting the group settled back in the conference room after lunch. She was very attractive with tightly curled medium brown hair but way, way, thin, with almost no bust or hips. But she was one of the best project managers I'd run into and she had a sixth sense about issues here in the lab which were nothing serious and the seemingly trivial ones that might indicate real problems. She'd talked me off of a ledge more than once.
"Jo," she said, "Paul's on the way. After lunch? Give him the hard slot."
"Of course," I said with a momentary obsession on her use of the word 'hard,' "he's the one I want the most, knows his stuff but is also usually really engaging with these guys."
She seemed to hesitate for a split second, a ghost of a smile on her face as if in some inner thought.
"Ok," she said, "I'll bring the Director around 3:00 or so, let me know if you need anything."
"Thanks. We'll hope things go smoother."
I noticed Paul coming in and acknowledging Evelyn as they passed just outside the doorway. He caught my eye and I smiled and nodded for him to come in. I'd spent a fair amount of time with him as one of the technical team leads and he seemed to have one of the biggest pieces of software to write. But he also had a knack for talking to a salesperson like me and to a roomful of professors and the like. He was a shade under six feet tall and past discussions during some of our small talk he mentioned playing a few different sports so he was quite fit. I also knew he was married, which affected me more than I tried to let show. Then again, so was I. And he was a younger man! Well, all of six months or so younger. He'd actually dressed up, which for him meant clean denim jeans and an honest for real button down shirt. Untucked though. He'd go only so far.
He nodded to the folks as I walked up to the front to introduce him. He broke into a smile as he caught my eye and I returned the gesture as he hooked up his laptop to the projector and then prepped his presentation.
"This is Paul Jones, I'll just let him take it from here since I think most of you know him," I said to nods from the professors, "General Mitchell is the Air Force lead."
"The man who signs the checks. General," said Paul, "you're my first general."
"Oh?" He replied with a slightly confused look.
"I was a civilian at Hill Air Force Base a dozen years ago, '82, it was my first 'real' job after my BS degree," Paul said, "the ops folks killed a system disk. It was summer so all of the senior folks were gone. I had the short straw of being the 'assistant assistant admin' although I was primarily a database person on MDAS."
I saw the general actually had a bit of a smile. A first.
"Turned out we had all of the user data but the backup tapes for the system disk were corrupted. Which meant I had to reinstall the OS base and tools, then all of the patches, then rebuild directories and the like. All I was told was a full bird Colonel was steaming somewhere."
"That would've been Col. Jorgensen," said the general, "Ken, good friend of mine. I was at Minot at the time and heard about it the next day."
"Ah, good things I hope," replied Paul, "I managed to avoid the winter trips to lovely Minot."
That got a bigger smile. "Yes, they had a betting pool how many files they'd lose, system up by lunch with nothing lost no one had put money on. So they pushed. That was you. Good."
"Indeed. Now, I gave Joanne," he nodded and had a seemingly shy smile at me, "the presentation to pass onto you which has dates and crap but lets do this over here. I mean, we all know the dates so I'm not gonna repeat them and you've likely seen them today a few times."
Rueful smiles all around,.
He went to the whiteboard and get the group into an interactive discussion feeding the professors what the new code would let them do.
As to General Mitchell, he was asking questions about the big simulations and this was the first time he appeared checked in. I was even more pleased I had Paul last. Well, the lab director would have a few minutes with them then I could put them in their limos and send them to the airport for their flights.
I don't know if Paul used the public speaking trick of imagining your audience naked but I was imagining the speaker naked. I could feel my heart rate climbing and caught myself pressing my thighs together. Shit. I suddenly felt flushed and hoped no one noticed if my pale skin was going red. I leaned forward a bit so my loose hair fell around my cheeks and hoped anyone looking would just see the strawberry blonde colour of that.
I noticed Paul giving me a quick but broad smile, while everyone else was looking at him and the board. Then I flushed as I looked down at my chest.
I'd worn my cream pantsuit that day because I knew that it made men want to stare at my butt. It also let me wear but hide my biggest heels making me taller then the professors and almost eye to eye with General Mitchell. It had a sheer cream blouse layered over a matching sleeveless scoop neck top. Pairing that with the right bra like today meant that despite impressions all that really showed was just a bit of cleavage from my full breasts and my toned arms.
It allowed me to keep my all male egghead charges just slightly off balance without seeming extreme or obvious. But just then I noticed my lean combined with my shoulders hunched a bit provided someone standing at the front of the room with a much more expansive view of cleavage.
I tried to rise slowly and sit back in the chair, crossing my legs. Paul's smile was still there and somehow he'd not lost a beat.
A knock on the door and Evelyn opened it and put her head in.
"Still going?" She asked, "Ready for us?"
"Any more questions," Paul said quickly, "can always get me on a call. Or email."
"Or we'll get you to D.C.," rumbled the general.