All of my writing is fiction, and the stories and characters are all products of my imagination. They were created for my fun and, hopefully, your enjoyment. Some of the events in the stories are not particularly condoned nor encouraged by the author but are there to create and enhance the story of the imaginary characters and their lives. Comments are always encouraged and carefully reviewed. All characters within the story that need to be are 18 years of age or older. I hope you enjoy! And take a second to vote and comment.
This is my entry to the National Nude Day contest. As I mentioned above, take a few seconds to vote.
* * * * *
"Ms. Borders. Did you want me to bring, um, the whole Richfield file?"
Melissa sighed. "Samantha, what did I say to you?"
"You said to bring you the Richfield file."
"And that's what I want, dear. The Richfield file." The baleful look that went along with Melissa's words caused the young trainee to shiver. "And, tell Ross to get off his dead ass and get the whole file for you. Lazy bastard."
She dropped her eyes for a second, then raised them again. "Don't tell him that. I'll take care of it." A wave of her hand and she was alone once more. She picked up her phone and punched a couple of buttons.
"HR, how may I assist you?"
"By not using that stupid word. Assist? Whatever happened to help?"
"Good morning to you, too, Melissa. And "help' is so provincial. Assist is much more sophisticated."
"Bullshit. How are you this morning, Andy?"
"I was fine until..."
"Yeah, yeah. Have someone bring Ross Newland's file to -- or," she said, interrupting herself, "maybe you could just put a note in his file for me."
"If we're going to do that, we need to have him here so he's aware of what you're doing."
"This isn't anything formal, just a reminder if something comes up again."
"Mel."
"Yeah, go on."
"Personnel files aren't for miscellaneous notes."
"Bullshit formality and rules. You and Robert's. Never mind. I guess I'll just have to remember it myself." She hung up the phone.
Melissa saw Samantha's timid face peeking around the edge of her door.
"Come on in, Samantha."
The young girl entered, almost stumbling as she carried a large and obviously heavy cardboard box.
Melissa jumped up and helped her set the box on the big table by the wall.
"Did Ross get this for you?"
"Yes, ma'am, he did."
Melissa smiled at the once again terrified young girl. "How old are you?" she asked.
"I'm nineteen."
"Kind of what I thought. Listen, no matter what you've heard, the rumors that I devour young girls aren't true. In fact, I'm the one who spreads the rumors, just to keep my reputation intact and to, well, you know. I'm harmless, but don't you dare share that with anyone." She patted Samantha on the shoulder. "Head back to your desk, and when you get there, tell Ross to come to my office, okay?"
She received a hesitant smile from Samantha, who turned and was quickly gone.
It was about three minutes later when Ross knocked on the doorframe and came into the office.
"What the hell took you so long?" Melissa snapped, glaring at him.
"I was on the phone. Besides, you're not my boss, you know."
"Probably fortunate for both of us. Anyway, you're an asshole for giving that heavy box to that poor girl to carry up here. We'll probably get a workman's comp claim for her bad back one of these days.
"It wasn't that heavy."
"You're a two hundred and five-pound man, and she's a one hundred and five-pound girl. She could have used a little help."
"And what could
you
use, Mel? Anything I've got?"
"Ross, you're so stupidly crass with what you want."
"Well, you've got everything I need," he said, winking at her.
"I was just on the phone with HR talking about you, and one more comment like that, and there'll be an official complaint filed." Once more, she glared at him.
"What were you talking to HR about?" he asked, suddenly nervous.
"You may find out one of these days. Now, get back to work and be a little more thoughtful of others."
Ross hesitated.
"OUT!
He didn't need more encouragement and was quickly out the door.
Melissa had had one date with Ross about a year ago, and it didn't take a Merlin or Nostradamus to foresee the future he had in mind for them. She wasn't a virgin by a long shot but was very picky about her sexual partners. Ross was not one she'd pick.
She eyed the big box sitting on the table and knew she couldn't avoid it any longer. Richfield and Associates had to be explored, even if the business was temporarily in limbo, or perhaps
because
it was in limbo.
After thirty minutes of fruitless probing, reading, and tossing things in the wastebasket, she decided she needed a little exercise to keep her blood flowing.
As she entered the big office area, there was a sudden flurry of activity -- everyone was hard at work. She smiled. She still had it. About fifteen people were inhabiting the six cubicles, and the desks spread across the room. When she had taken this position, there were only six. Soon, she hoped she'd need a larger space for her staff.
People smiled at her as she passed. She was ready when she got a question from Ashton -- he always had a question for her. It was his way of brown-nosing the boss. Usually, his questions had some substance, and that made his little fetish acceptable. The way he looked at her while he waited for her answer made his thoughts about her
quite apparent. He was a good worker, so, no problem.
She moved on, deciding to grab a Snickers from the vending machine, hoping it might help with the Richfield file. She knew she had to be careful of the Snickers as each one she ate seemed to settle in her butt. Not that it wasn't still a delicious butt, yet, she needed to use care.
Back in her office, the ugly box was still mostly full and unread. Ugh.
***
Jenny Winston was almost to her car when her cell phone rang. It was Melissa.
