The rain drops smeared the windows of the bus as it threaded the early morning rush hour traffic and Samantha worried that her plans to arrive early for her first day as a receptionist in an anonymous grey concrete office block in the centre of London.
She rushed up the street with her heart pounding and stumbled through the front door with barely a minute to spare and rushed to check in at reception with her ample bosom heaving as she gasped for breath..
"Samantha Graham," she announced breathlessly, "Mr Harker's new assistant."
"Ah yes, I'll get you a proper pass, did you let HR have your photograph?" the middle aged lady asked pleasantly.
"Yes, I emailed it after my interview," Samantha explained.
"Oh yes, I have it here, ah your next of kin, your emergency contact, you gave your mothers details and she lives in Nova Scotia?" the woman commented as she handed Samantha a visitor's pass, "Is there no one nearer,"
"Only my landlady, I rent a flat you see, I'll write her details down if you like," Samantha explained.
"Thank you, you do know where Mr Harker's office is don't you?" she asked
"Yes, it's on the fourth floor, thank you," Samantha said, and she smiled nervously and made her way to the lift.
"Samantha," John Harker greeted her and smiled as he looked straight into her deep blue eyes despite the temptation to stare down her cleavage between her magnificent D cup breasts that her open neck blouse she wore offered.
"We deal with baby products here, mainly," he explained, "But you'll soon learn the ropes, basically you are my buffer from the world, I'll be through there if you would like to settle in." he smiled, "I'll have a coffee at ten please, two sugars and I always have our powdered baby milk."
"Oh, yes, certainly, ah, sir," she agreed.
Time dragged, ten came and went, she made coffee, took the cup through, collected the empty cup and waited. Nothing happened.
She took lunch, John took coffee at three thirty and they went home at five.
"How did you get on?" the lady asked as Samantha took the temporary pass back to the reception desk.
"I made coffee and had lunch, that was about it," Samantha explained.
"Bring a magazine, or chat to your friends on Facebook," the lady suggested, "I'm afraid boredom is the biggest problem here."
Samantha quickly realised the woman was absolutely correct as for the rest of the week she made precisely four cups of coffee and answered seven telephone calls.
By the Tuesday of the second week Samantha had become completely disillusioned, "Is this what I spent three years at University for?" she asked John Harker as she took his coffee that afternoon.
"I though you were enjoying it here," John asked.
"It's so boring!" she said.
"Well I'm sorry to hear that," he said, "You studied engineering at Loughborough, so why join us?"
"Money," she admitted, "And jobs aren't exactly plentiful."
"Look there is a job for an engineering assistant at Morewood," he suggested, "If you would like to be considered, you'll have to sign a confidentiality agreement, it's all very hush hush."
"Baby milk?" she scoffed, "How can baby milk be confidential?"
"The machinery, it's all very competitive do you see?" he explained.
"And what would the job entail?" Samantha asked as she flicked her long blonde hair off her face.
"Some testing, generally well all sorts really," he replied.
"And the salary?" she asked.
"Not as much, but you can live in, it makes checking the machinery easier, those early morning milking sessions you understand.
"I suppose," she said, "Can I try it?"
"A months trial?" he suggested, "Certainly, if you are serious see HR and I'm sure you can start next Monday."
"Right," Samantha agreed.
"We'll pay your present salary initially so don't give up your flat in case it's not for you," he suggested.
"Ok, but I need to work out the figures," she insisted.
"Fine," he said slightly irritably, "Just work it out with HR, I'll be sorry to lose you from the office, but it really is your choice."
======================================
Rain drops smeared the windows of John Harker's Ford Galaxy people carrier as he drove Samantha from her South London flat to Morewood through the heavy mid morning traffic.
"It's very good of you," she said.
"It's easier than you getting a Taxi," he explained, "What with all the security at Morewood, now you did sign the confidentiality agreement didn't you?"
"Oh yes, I have my new badge," she said and showed him the round brass plate engraved with the number N379, "It all looks a bit Victorian," she giggled.
"Oh yes, I'm afraid some things haven't evolved much," he agreed, "But as they say, if it works why fix it?"
Morewood loomed from the mist and rain, an anonymous complex of industrial buildings in grey concrete and cream paintwork with blue doors and uniformed security on the gate.
John presented his pass and was waved through the outer gate and on into the complex finally driving up to a large building where a door opened as they approached and they drove inside.
"Hi," John hailed a woman dressed like a security officer, "This is my new assistant Samantha. Check N 379."
"Hi," the woman replied, "I'm Mo, security officer, you're Sammy?"
"Ah Samantha," Samantha insisted.
"Whatever," Mo replied, "I'll show you your room."
"Shall we show her round first?" John suggested.
"Ok," Mo agreed, "I'll lock you in ok?"
"Sure," John agreed, "I'll take Samantha through."
A door led through to a wide corridor with display cases displaying the company's merchandise, baby pacifiers, the range of baby foods or at least the packaging, simple hand operated breast pumps and the range of nursing bras.
"May I help you?" a middle aged lady with honey blonde hair straight out of a bottle judging by the dark roots, brown eyes and a fake smile asked as she saw Samantha approach.
