Another hot morning in Nashville saw me arriving at Bellshire Animal clinic on Dickerson Pike looking forward to my interview. Though only applying for the secretarial job, I knew that someday I could be an animal doctor.
The climate controlled office gives immediate relief from the stifling heat. I'm am glad to be inside after the long walk from the old truck under scorching sun.
Dressed to look attractive but also to be comfortable, I was wearing a BLMU short-sleeved bodycon dress creating an hourglass apperance and showing cleavage. High-parted chocolate brown hair reaches the bottom of my breasts. I was wearing strappy pointed -toe pumps.
A long-legged shapely blond who looked to be in her thirties came out to the waiting room and gestured me to join her in her office around the corner. Her blond hair is put up in a neat bun. She is wearing a lab coat. A stetheiscope hung around her neck.
"I'm doctor Jennifer North."
"Stefani Coombs," I replied.
She gestured and I took a seat.
Looking at my application she made a comment that I thought might work in my favor. "I see that you grew up on a ranch."
"Yes, I love horses, animals too."
"No secretarial experience," she said.
"I know that the job involves greeting customers. Being friendly can't hurt none. I would love to study Veterinary medicine."
"I find it to be a rewarding career."
As the words came out I was hoping that the sales pitch was making her want to hire me.
My eyes had locked onto her letting my brain conjure up an image of her body, a slender figure with gradual curves. In any case, a small part of me wanted her.
In Jonesborough, the tiny town nestled in the Appalacian mountains, Laura Phelps had been my crush at David Crocket high school. The 5 2 green-eyed redhead caught my eye the day we met. We kissed in secret, did nothing publicly that betrayed feelings for each other.
Laura had enlisted in the military leaving me with only sweet memories of her. Only a few days had passed before I stopped thinking about her. We had indulged in sex only once then parted company well before sunrise. Standing under the morning sun, I watched the bus transporting her and the other recruits to bootcamp.
The first few days at Bellshire reception desk could not have gone better. I found Jennifer's personality to be engaging. We chatted freely giving one another insight into life away from the office.
She enjoyed walking with her 10 year old Golden Retriever, a pet she acquired nine years ago. I had responded to that tidbit by talking about my dachshund and my 12 year old chocolate-brown Andalusian.
That Friday morning, one week since taking the secretarial job my GADAR produced an image on the montor that is my brain. Jennifer came inside the office wearing a rainbow bowtie blouse with a black skirt.
"I love that top."
"Thanks," she replied.
I caught fleeting glimpses of another woman with her in the car that morning and the previous morning. Their kiss left me wishing that Jennifer's lips were touching mine.
"May I ask a question?"
Requesting permission to ask sends the signal that the question is personal.
Jennifer gave a silent nod so I continued.
