Some people like to be the boss, but Nancy Saddler wasn't one of them. She loved the pay, of course, and the respect, and the status. But she hated hurting people. Managing meant she had to make decisions when competing projects needed the same budget. It made her choose between different ideas of how to approach a client.
Today, it meant she had to choose who got a promotion.
That was especially bad. There was no compromise solution β no way to make both parties happy. One job, two finalist applicants, and no way out. Nancy hated hurting people's feelings, and today she had to do it.
Management had other perks besides the pay. An office of her own was very high among them, and the closed door was another. On the back of that door hung a mirror, and she checked her appearance in it now before receiving the first of the two applicants for their final interviews.
Her raven hair was up in a bun β a style she'd affected since rising to her current position. Her navy blue suit hadn't picked up any visible lint, which was good, and her cream colored blouse was unbuttoned just far enough for a feminine touch without being unprofessional.
The hem of her skirt was above her knee, but not much. No runs marred her neutral pantyhose.
She worked hard at being boring. Even now in her early thirties, her body was one that would turn any man's head, and it took careful dressing to keep it from doing so. Her breasts weren't huge, but she certainly needed a bra. They rose gently up from her chest and swelled softly with each breath.
Long, slender legs like hers were the whole reason miniskirts were invented, and the graceful curve of her hip could easily turn heads.
But if she let that be the first impression on her male colleagues, it would be so strong as to crowd out other things, and Nancy wanted to be remembered for more than just a body. She smiled with quiet pride at the kept promise of her teenage years β to never use her body where her mind would do better, and not to coast through life on the strength of her boobs and butt.
A good figure seemed almost more of a curse than a blessing to her: once men saw it, they assumed you fucked your way to whatever status you had, and wrote off the other things you might have done to earn it.
It was that conviction that made the interviewing process a little bit simpler for her.
Both candidates were equally qualified. Both were women in their late twenties, at about the right stage in their careers for this job.
But one had the universal reputation of blowing whatever man could advance her career, and Nancy hated that. She'd heard men she trusted β men she considered friends β saying they'd slept with this woman, and that meant it wasn't just typical male presumption about a pretty woman. These were men who wouldn't lie to her.
A woman who climbed the corporate ladder that way wouldn't make it past her. It gave her a laugh β just a little one β to think about what a woman like that would feel knowing that this time there was no man to play that trick on. Of course, telling her she didnβt get the job would still be uncomfortable.
The woman in question was Heidi Swenson, and she was also the first interview candidate. Unless she was late β never a good idea at a job interview β she would be waiting right outside the office door.
Nancy gave her mirror one last glance before throwing the door open and smiling into the small reception area. The room was about large enough for a secretary, her desk, and a couch, with not much room to spare. Her secretary nodded ever-so-slightly at the sofa on the far wall and, yes, Miss Swenson was waiting there. And from the looks of it, the idea that there wasn't a man for her to manipulate hadn't yet occurred to her.
Her blonde hair hung freely in a golden waterfall around her face, framing big blue eyes and fuck-me red lipstick. Her red power suit was all wrong for an interview situation, not least because of the very nearly transparent nature of the shell she wore under the blazer. Her high heels were way too high for business.
And that skirt! Mini didn't describe it. It was too short even to be called a micro. The phrase, "I see London, I see France," might have described it, except that when she uncrossed her legs to stand up, Heidi very deliberately showed Nancy that she wasn't wearing underpants.
Nancy blinked, then blinked again. Her mouth, open to say, "Please come in," hung that way without the words coming out.
It wasn't like she'd never seen another woman's genitalia before, of course. She was an adult, she worked out, she spent time in the health club locker room... but to be deliberately invited to look! And by a woman who very clearly expected hers to be seen... well, she had to, since no one would go to the trouble of shaving or waxing without meaning for someone to see. There was no fur at all down there by which to test whether she was a real blonde.
While Nancy tried to force words out, Heidi was on her feet and taking the three steps to her door, fixing her skirt with one hand and carrying a briefcase in the other.
"Good morning, Miss Saddler," she said. "Thank you for seeing me today."
Nancy stood back from the door to let her pass while stammering, "Let's... let's go in here..."
The blonde let her thigh brush Nancy's as she sauntered by slowly, and Nancy had no doubt it was deliberate. The other woman took a seat at the conference table without being asked, and Nancy shut the door and turned to follow, suddenly very conscious of how tightly the bun held her black hair, and how free Heidiβs was.
Other than the door and the mirror on it, Nancy's office consisted of an oak desk with a black leather chair behind it, supporting a laptop and a globe, the better to illustrate their company's worldwide reach. In front of the desk was a small round table with three chairs that she used for meetings. Heidi had taken the middle of the three chairs, so Nancy had to sit next to her rather than opposite and facing as would have been her preference.
"So, miss Swenson," she said, easing into the chair. "Why do you want to be the Eastern Regional Marketing Coordinator?"
She had to force herself to ask that question β the standard one for an interview β rather than the one that was really on her mind: "Why are you trying to seduce me as if I were one of those men you rolled on your way this far?"
Heidi didn't begin replying until Nancy looked directly at her, and then she held her boss's gaze and looked into her eyes. "I want to play a greater role in the company," she replied. "I want to find a way to contribute more."
The eye contact made Nancy uncomfortable β it felt far too intimate for her. But she was determined not to show weakness by looking away first. There was far more to Heidi Swenson than she'd at first assumed.
"Do you have any ideas to bring to the job?"
Heidi smiled at her, still holding her gaze. "Retail marketing's a pretty simple business, isn't it? Sex sells. I think we need to push the envelope erotically. Think of it. Instead of that stupid cowboy we've been using in the current campaign, imagine a woman, lying in bed, probably naked but the picture cuts off just before you'd see her nipples, looking up at the viewer with her eyes half shut β inviting, sultry, waiting for you to join her. That'd sell a hell of a lot more bourbon than any stupid cowboy.
"I brought some samples of our competitorsβ advertising to illustrate the point," she added, pulling her briefcase up to the table. Nancy jerked her head up and down slightly, using the motion of her head to try and clear it. This whole interview was making her so nervous β it was like she was floating a few feet above her body and afraid the body would do something wrong without her to guide it.
Heidi opened the briefcase then pushed it to the far edge of the table so it wouldn't come between the two of them. She pulled out a trendy men's magazine β one of those that's practically all about sex but stops short of actually showing nude pictures β with a page paper clipped and opened it. She pushed it in front of Nancy.
"I found this one in an article I was studying up on. See how sensuous? How sexy?"
Indeed, it was sensuous and sexy β a woman covered only in a bed sheet she held around herself, stepping foot outside a hotel room door to pick up a bottle of a competing brand of bourbon. Somehow, though, what Nancy noticed more than the picture was the article it was next to β the one Heidi claimed to have been studying up on.
It was a how-to article for men on cunnilingus techniques.
Nancy found her breath catching. It had been obvious from the start, but that laid it all out on the table: Heidi wanted to fuck her way through this interview too, just like all the others.
If she had been asked, Nancy would have replied indignantly, "No, of course I'm not a lesbian!" But that was only because the thought had never entered her mind. Lesbians were people who held protest marches in Washington DC, tried to get into the New York St. Patrick's Day Parade, or lived in San Francisco. Not that she believed in stereotypes, really β it was just that it was a subject that had never come up.
Now, though, Heidi was bringing it up. Heidi was flirting with her, and harder than any man ever had. (After all, no man ever started things off by flashing her!) "Does she think I'm a lesbian?" Nancy asked herself. "Why does she think that? Do I look like one? What does a lesbian look like?"