Fay's stiletto heels stepped out of the garage elevator and clicked across the perfectly polished terrazzo floors of the lobby. It was exactly 7AM. The security guards, including those off duty since 6:30AM, had waited to watch Fay as her long legs, designer high heels, and perfectly tailored business dress parade by the front desk. Every weekday morning they gathered in the lobby to gawk as the long wavy haired brunette passed the entry point, pressed her ID card on the glass of the electronic turn style, and proceeded to sashay her stunningly beautiful body around the corner to the main bank of elevators.
That morning one of three guards pursed his lips when she was safely out of hearing range. "Ooo, honey."
A newbie looked back-and-forth between his co-workers. "Well, who was that?"
"Miss Fay Pinna. I think she's of hot Italian descent," said the third guard gently sniffing the air for her perfume.
The newbie looked confused. "What was she wearing in the back though?"
"Her skirts normally look like that. Odd, huh?" said the first guard still thinking of her.
A supervisor joined the group and interrupted. "She's high maintenance and way above all of you bums' pay grades, so back to work or get on with go'in home."
*****
Fay exited the elevator on the top floor. She was punctual, efficient, and professional -- the perfect analyst who reported directly to the CEO. Despite rumors started by jealous board members who she had given a cold shoulder, there was nothing sexual or improper. Many guys called her the 'Ice Princess.' She didn't care. She once told a secretary, who had warned about the 'Ice Princess' name being bantered about amongst the guys, that 'Ice Queen' was preferred.
Walking down a long empty hallway, she enjoyed the quiet early mornings. The silky inner lining of her skirt rustled against her smokey colored nylon clad legs. Her snug skirt's hemline hung above her knees finding a balance between conservative and provocative. Her little suit jacket cinched at her waist. Her hair was pulled back and clipped with a slight lift, but her trusses of considerable length still hung far down her back.
Any man noticing how the front of her skirt hugged her thighs would always discretely turn to see how the snug skirt surely hugged the undoubtedly perfect derriere. The urge to ogle hurt all the men trying to resist it. Their faces betrayed their thoughts of caressing, spanking, and sliding the skirt's material slowly up; but then during their attempts at secretly leering back to see her walking away, they would undoubtedly look confused at her skirt's bustle obscuring the view.
Her outfits were perfectly tailored to match today's modern styles except for the extra material that at the waist projected out a few inches and then dropped down to a sudden hemline as if a wedding dress train had been cut off. It was more than a simple flourish of a peplum. Women talked about the design being an homage to a Victorian theme updated to use a short skirt. During a company cocktail party, men joked about setting a drink on the bustle like it was a table. They laughed wanting to know if a wine glass would stand steady in place as she swanned her way through the crowd.
Fay ignored the murmurs surrounding her at work. She always arrived early morning before anyone else, not to hide from the odd gazes of curious people, but to get work done. This morning was no different. She sat at her desk. Her customized chair had a space opened in the back for her skirt's bump to nestle into. In a conference room meeting, she would sit more on a seat's edge. In her office though, she could relax. She leaned comfortably back, lifted her legs onto her desk, rested her ankles on the corner, and began to unwind while reading her mail on an iPad.
"Hi, Fay," said Andy knocking at her open door. She looked over the top of her tablet at the newest in-house council. She was surprised seeing anyone else so early. She continued to look dismissive to avoid signals men interpreted as flirting, but for Andy, she thought how his over six-foot height and athletic build was a cool tall glass a water she wanted to sip. She hid an internal cringe. Why was that the metaphor that popped into her mind?
She set her long legs down, rotating her chair forward. "Yes Andy."
"I'll need to see what marketing had actually said that got everyone upset last week." He walked to the side of her large desk.
"Sure. I have the file right here." She stood and leaned forward to reach a stack of papers. It was obvious that Andy was watching her. Her skirt angled up slightly in the back especially with the bustle adding some extra leverage to reveal more of her legs. She glanced to her side. Andy, like most guys, stayed silent on the bustle topic, but his face betrayed his curiosity while he took in the view. Everyone knew the CEO trusted her work and ignored the whole bustle subject matter. The Ice Princess's bump was clearly a topic off limits.
"Here you go," she said handing over a folder. "You know," added Fay as Andy was heading out to the hallway. He quickly stopped at hearing her voice. Fay liked how he looked at her, she continued her original thought: "I'd like to go over it in more detail. Could you do a dinner tonight? Let's call it a working dinner." She had never been so forward. A burning need had taken hold of her -- a need demanding some relief.
Andy looked back. He couldn't help but wonder if a date with the Ice Princess was wise. He liked her straight forward confident nature. He also loved looking at her. "I can do that. There's a couple places across the street that aren't too noisy or too quiet."
"Sounds good," she replied. "Stop by at seven."
Andy swore her voice had a little purr in it. He carried the files down the hallway pretending to read them, but he was solely focused on imagining her legs. But why the bump over her butt? He then switched to inventorying what he had in his office. Yep, he was covered -- he had a shaver and a fresh shirt. He reflected for a moment. A fling with Fay could be dangerous. He liked that.
*****
While Andy was meeting Fay for the first time that morning, a new intern from the same firm was across town desperately trying to comprehend some new pursuits of her own.
