Lucille Nailed It

Andrew met Lucille at ground floor reception at 8:00 am as arranged and escorted her to the senior executive floor. Lucille had always assumed she'd meet Mr Right one day and walking into the boardroom almost into the arms of the man – presumably Digger – she thought that time had come: there he was and aged thirty-two or three.

She trembled in delight when she noticed Digger's smiling smoky grey eyes widen in surprise as he took in an eyeful of her.

A mass of blond to brown unruly hair framed a wide and handsome face, so handsome she knew instantly he could model sunglasses, neck jewelry and those teeth – oh please bite her neck, her nipple... just bite her PLEASE!

All she wanted was to find out his real name, was he was available and hopefully not married. Alas the chances of striking everything in her favor were as unlikely as Debs completely shaving 'down there'.

"Lucille Lightfoot, may I present my business partners Morgan Davis and Digby Morrissey."

Ah names that translated into Mo and Digger.

"Digby is the managing partner and major shareholder. We three bought the company from his father and de-listed it, turning it back into a private company. We are still attempting to make our fortunes so if you can lead the business turnaround of

Fashion Up

then we three will worship the ground on which you walk."

Then Lucille got it, experiencing disappointment, Davis obviously was Mo's preferred name, her maiden name. She was married to Digger and wore his wedding ring.

"Mo is Digby's sister."

Relief swept through Lucille, making her wonder where was the restroom was. Mo looked to be thirty-five or thirty-six.

As the hand-shaking concluded Mo said, "Please join us at the table for coffee and croissants. We need to talk. May I ask how old are you?"

"Twenty-eight."

Mo and Digger looked aghast and Andrew said hastily said that Lucille was being employed for her talents and experience and for that her age was immaterial. Her CV and references gave the history of her business experience.

After the partners had heard from Lucille about fashion trends and that

Fashion Up

should forge an editorial partnership with a sister magazine either in Paris or New York, Mo asked her what her preference would be.

"New York because I know New York fashion, our target markets here are roughly similar but we have an ace that would not play so well in Paris: Australian beachwear and Outback wear."

Mo looked surprised.

"You know... ah of course you do. Your focus is fashion."

"What are you two on about?" Andrew asked.

"Fashion asset tradability," Mo explained. "We have editorial they want – beach and outback – and they have what we want – elegant high fashion and youth style. Is that correct?"

"Bang on Mo."

As the session began winding down, Lucille said she had one request pivotal to the success of the fight-back.

The partners looked slightly uneasy.

"Well, what is it?" Digger asked.

"I need the best page designer you have, the very best. I need to have her or him sitting alongside me for a couple of days – preferable where we'll be left undisturbed."

Mo grinned.

"You poor girl, being locked up with him eight hours a day won't be fun."

"It will be up to 12 hours a day – we have to redesign the whole magazine and prepare a sample mock-up for printing and distribution to advertising agencies – a repositioning upgrade, but we'll need a better name than that. The re-launch will retain the name

Fashion Up

– we don't need to spend more money than necessary."

Mo grinned again and then frowned: "What do you think of our magazine?"

"I haven't seen it yet but don't let that dismay you. I am familiar with hundreds of the top fashion magazines and my strength is conceptualization. We have to incorporate all the right elements, the very best elements proven to have worked, and at the same time create our obvious point of difference."

"You're going to be a busy boy big brother," Mo said then caught Lucille's confused look.

"Digger is one of the top magazine page designers in Australia and has awards recognizing that talent. He is your man as he's our director of design and content expenditure. I'm director of sales and marketing and Andrew is director of administration and personnel. I could point out that

Fashion Up

does have a designer. Perhaps she should be included?"

"Yes of course. She needs an accelerated learning curve but if she's not up to this and is obstructive, she's out of this."

"Oh she'll be up to it as we know her very well; she's my baby sitter and already has some awards under her belt."

"Fine and I'll look forward to working with her."

"And me?"

Lucille stared at Digger. "What about you?"

"Are you looking forward to working with me?"

"If you are compatible yes."

Digger grinned.

"I don't think you're going to be bowled over very easily if you strike opposition Miss Lightfoot."

"Pardon me?"

Mo said the term bowled over in that context meant stomped on.

At 9:00 they went down a floor to the seventh, where everyone connected with the editorial production of

Fashion Up

plus the head of production and manager of advertising sales were gathered. The word 'revival' had been used in the notice of meeting to avoid panic with people thinking a close-down was imminent.

Digger explained that advertising support for the magazine had faded and the last issue had run at a small loss and the loss would be greater for the issue passing through the production department at present.

"The board has decided to proceed with an expensive rescue plan. Mo will now introduce you to the person who we hope will successfully plan and lead the effective fight back."

"Everyone, it is my pleasure to introduce an American Miss Lucille Lightfoot," Mo said. "Lucille is young for such an important role but it's what she knows and has done that are the reasons she'd been hired on a temporary basis. Lucille holds a degree in print media studies, has worked in the fashion industry in New York, has participated in trade fairs and fashion shows in the USA, South-East Asia, India and Europe and as a result has fashion media contacts in many countries."

"She has an intimate understanding of the point of difference of most of the top fashion magazines in the world, is fluent in Spanish and French and, well, that's about it. Lucille, perhaps a few words before Digger explains your role to everyone."

Lucille smiled almost shyly but spoke strongly.

"Thank you. I'm sorry that I'm not an Aussie but in fashion we come pretty close. Let there be no mistake – your magazine sits on a knife-edge but we're here to put it back on course. During the next two days I shall be talking to everyone personally so please don't feel I'm being overly nosy – I just want to assess your strengths so I build the over-all picture on our human resource."

"Then I'll disappear for a couple of days, preparing the strike-back. I know the five top revenue producing fashion magazines in this country and I'm thinking we should pitch to work up to taking the number three spot over time."

"So who am I? It doesn't much matter – just help me produce the result I know we are capable of achieving if we work as a team."

That delivery was greeted with lukewarm applause.

"Guys and gals," Digger said looking apologetic. "I realize this change about has been dumped on you but we felt it best to wait until Lucille was on the team before announcing our mission. We had no wish to pre-empt a bad press."

"Sue you have my personal apologies for little advance warning but you had plenty of advance warning that the team had to pull the mag back from the brink, or else."

"Your position as editor remains unchanged Sue except Lucille becomes your senior as editorial consultant answerable directly to Mo."

Sue burst into tears and received support. To Lucille's delight she didn't run from the room.

"Sue is a capable managing editor and an admired journalist but this fight-back role requires someone with 20-20 vision to repackage the mag and sent it flying," Digger continued.

"Your board has bitten the bullet to commence stage one; if we initiate positive feedback from advertising agencies and present and potential big clients, your board will dig deeper and accept the losses until

Fashion Up

rises up and heads to that Number Three Spot that Lucille mentioned."

"Hell that's pretty presumptuous of her, but our money is on Lucille. Thanks for your attendance. If you're nervous about this projected bumpy ride then resign today; otherwise stay and help iron out those bumps. That's all. Sue and Angie – come with us to the boardroom to participate in our first and only planning meeting; Lucille only wants the one meeting as after that she says it's all action."

The red-eyed Sue West managed a smile as she shook Lucille's hand when she approached the young American.

"I cannot believe how badly your people have treated Sue," fumed the plump young Angie.

"Angie, that's enough," Lucille said, smiling. "Let's be positive and get on with it, huh? You guy had your change prior to me coming here and nothing seemed to work and now I have to carry that pressure."

"Very well."

"Angie is my baby sister," Mo reminded Lucille who appeared unimpressed.

"Then I ought to be confident of her total support."

"Angie and Sue you heard what Digger said. If the media had heard last week that I was being called in, the Sunday papers would have buried us. This afternoon I have arranged to be interviewed by the

Sydney Morning Herald

for a feature to appear Wednesday morning; that should take some of the heat off us."

"I accept that explanation but Digger, you could have been upfront with Sue and me."

"What, and have you blab to your gossip-fueled friends, several who work in the media," Mo snapped.

"Cool it guys, let's focus on our mission," Lucille soothed.

Later Lucille went to a self-employed female lawyer located nearby to begin the process of establishing her own company and decided to use the woman's brother who ran an accountancy practice in the same building. She came away with an application process for permanent residency underway.

* * *

Digby Morrissey had tried to conceal his surprise when he first saw Lucille. Twice when asked about her appearance, Andrew had told him on the phone that she looked okay.

Well probably to Andrew with his apparent low sex drive 'okay' could mean anything from dumpy with buck-teeth to a prim type with severe glasses and perpetual frown. Instead he'd come face to face with was something out of a top fashion mag, but with slightly bigger boobs and a gut-wrenching smile. Oh boy.

His immediate reaction was this cutie would give the magazine the class it lacked just by sitting in her executive chair with her elegantly crossed legs hidden. He hoped she was a stockings convert.

The thought of white flesh above black lace stocking tops made him think of his wife Meg. Where the hell was she? She'd become mixed up with a wild set of women who were half boozed by lunchtime and probably the talking focused on guys and fast cars and big motor cruisers. She'd become unreliable about coming home or even telling him where she was going or where had she been.

Digger wondered if her girl cronies were part of a sex, drugs and gambling set that seemed to be associated with big names in business and the entertainment industries.

His worry about Meg was interfering with his work. He knew he was taking a big risk by placing the last ditch attempt to save the mag into the hands of this wench...er...personable and upfront lady.

Mo was all uptight because she thought her husband was having an affair. She had become reprogrammed to virtually say yes to anything and was hoping someone even half acceptable would come along and shag her so she could get her own back on Harry.

Well, serve her right – he'd warned her that Harry at university had been into anyone who'd hit on her.

Digger, shaking his head worried that he'd screwed up on this one. He'd almost flipped when this woman blithely told them she hadn't read the magazine because she'd never seen a copy. 'That didn't mean a thing folk,' she'd said or words to that effect.

Fucking hell, she'd been at Andrew and Debs' home several times. Andrew would have had a whole pile of issues of

Fashion Up

in the house.

However, he conceded the more he became exposed to this woman, er Lucille, the more secure he began to feel. It was as if she radiated something.

* * *

Mo was stressed and that was not only because she and her husband Harry were becoming increasingly distant and he now rarely touched her, which meant only one thing the lousy philanderer.

She was becoming increasingly nervous about trying to save the fashion magazine. Why bother as the publication was already was in an over-crowded magazine market.

She worried too about the audacity of Lucille telling everyone she was picking the revived magazine would be targeted to take the Number Three spot for fashion magazines. Hell that would mean it being in demand nationally and hauling in South Pacific sales from New Zealand up to Fiji and Tahiti.

Christ the girl was dreaming. However it by some chance that did occur they would be in the big money and

Fashion Up

would have positioned itself as the publisher's flagship magazine.

Someone came to the door of Mo's office.

"Hi you'll remember me I'm Blade Maxwell – Andrew Monk is my uncle but you probably know that because I have something of a reputation. I just dropped in to say hi to our family friend Lucille and to see if she wants a ride home; she boards with my mum."

"She's out with Andrew. Come in and wait here Blade if you wish. Lucille is preparing for an interview for publication in the

Herald

. Excuse me while I carry on working."

Blade was cracking his knuckles.

Mo sneaked a look, noting his wide chest and muscular arms. She felt the pulse in her throat beat and rubbed it with her hand.

"You have a sore neck; would you like it massaged?"

"Yes please."

Mo was shocked that she'd said that and the idiot was on her feet coming over to her, a stupid look on his face. Oh God he was leering.

"How do you like it?" he grinned.

Mo was consumed with need, this was her opportunity.

"Any way you like to give it to me, within reason."

"Should I lock the door?"

"Why?"

"You know why?"

As he went to the door she practically ran to the sofa, undoing her shirt and the back button of her skirt above the zip. A condom, she thought, he won't have any. Oh God, another huge risk – he may have something catching.

"Right babe, you've got big ones. Let's set them free, should we?"

Mo leaned forward, undoing the hooks at the back of her bra.

She cooed sounding rather uptight: "I hope you've got a big one."

"I get no complaints."

She reached down and felt his erection, deciding she had no complaint.

He was sucking her right nipple and rolling her left one between his fingers.

She moaned softly and incredibly he claimed, "I'm good, aren't I?"

The jerk, he'd done little but slobber all over her front.

"Let's not wait around – I'm not fussy about foreplay,"

Mo knew the longer they messed around the greater the chance of someone would come knocking at the door.

"Do you have a condom?"

"Never travel without them, lady. But the house rule states that the lady must put it on me."

"Okay."

"But you're supposed to object and anyway what the fuck are you doing allowing me to bonk you on our first date?"

"This is not a date."

"Oh then no wonder you're hot and ready. Roll it on to me babe. Jeeze my dick is big today – I hope you have a big one."

He dropped his trousers and his briefs.

She licked her lips looking at width of it and then boggled – his testicles were almost as big as golf balls. The thought of being awash made her feel faint. She staggered away to her handbag where she kept an emergency packet.

"Roll it on babe – you're old enough to be my mother so surely you don't require instructions."

She seethed thinking the arrogant jerk.

Blade banged away forever it seemed and banged was the operative word because the sofa was hitting the wall behind it – Andrew's office fortunately. But what if he had returned and would find his nephew had bonked her?

Panic gripped Mo and she wailed and shuddered into a series of orgasms. She felt a smile – a big fat smile as it flooded her face.

He jerked and grunted twice, pulled out and said thanks instead of pulling out early and hosing her breasts, he turned absolutely gross.

Holding up the condom, with very little fluid in the end of it, he said: "Not much juice in the tank – Janice wanted to rut at lunchtime and just as we were finishing her young sister came in and I had to do her twice because she said she'd tell on Janice unless I did her. You women leave a man almost legless."

Mo knew she had to get him out of her office.

"You should go and wait downstairs in reception. You'll see Lucille arrive."

Blade unlocked and opened the door. Turning he held up the used condom.

"Flush it away in the men's room you foul boy and if I ever see you in this building again I'll be telling your mother what you did here today. Shove off Blade."

Then the roof fell in.

"Hi Mo – you look athletic."

Mo had been leaning forward to wipe herself. Her breasts dangled out around her arms, one hand holding her labia open and the other ready to wipe.

She froze at hearing Lucille's voice and thought frantically at least she'd not been caught out being a bad girl by her brother.

Her fear subsided and she managed a wane smile and hoped Lucille would understand that some days are tough at the office.

The other thing was Lucille didn't know Mo's husband or mother and so she was safe from having her indiscretion exposed!

Mo went into her bathroom, washed and tidied herself before going to find Lucille and apologize for embarrassing her. Lucille was in the boardroom setting up for her interviews in the morning.

"Hi – not a word will pass my lips," she smiled at Mo. "We all can have tough days at the office and obviously some of us need to administer attention to reduce tension."

Mo impulsively hugged and kissed the new arrival in relief and cooed, "Thanks and this means I know you'll do well here Lucille as you have the steel to cope with any er eventuality."

"Thanks Mo and please stay with me for the interview in the morning to assist us where necessary."

The interview went well and Mo admired how Lucille immediately connected with the forties-something newspaper features writer.

"Diane it's lovely to meet you. Please understand I'm new to this magazine and this is my boss Mo Davis who's here to correct me if I make misguided assumptions."

"I'm apparently a Miss Fix-it guru."

Mo saw the journalist lick her lips and thought bingo! The journalist was already onboard

Lucille then replied to all questions asked for a 'soft' expanded news story for the business section of the newspaper and her charm, personality and apparent profound knowledge of the international fashion industry appeared to fascinate the interviewer.

After the journalist left Mo hugged Lucille and said, "Come on, it's lunchtime. Let's join Digger at the Pit Stop."

"What's the Pit Stop?"

"It's our favorite bar. It's me treat because after your performance in that interview I feel so wonderful, my depression has lifted."

"Yes it sometimes takes a boost from a fright or sex or a successful event to remove the cobwebs."

"Yes Lucille and sex tends to creep into all conversations these days don't you think?"

They laughed and collecting their handbags walked to the elevator arm in arm.