Weak, early morning sun filtered through the small chink in the curtains, casting a pale beam across the splayed out figure in the bed. Mumbling something incoherent and laced with sleep, the female slid her arm under the pillow that lay opposite her, on the other side of the double bed and pulled it close to her, nestling into it as if it were a cuddly toy, or another person. The cozy scene was shattered a mere three minutes later by the piercing buzz of the alarm clock, that sat innocently on the beside cabinet. Groaning and wishing out loud for "just five more minutes" the woman sat up and slammed her hand down on the offending alarm silencing it with a single blow.
Her waist length, jet black hair untamed and static around her face, eyelids heavy with sleep she made her way into the adjoining en-suite bathroom; letting the water in the shower run hot before slipping out of the black cotton t-shirt she had slept in and under the steaming jets of water.
Running her fingers through her hair as she looked up towards the shower head, letting the water wash away the remnants of sleep, she ran through her schedule for the day. A high power business executive, there was no room for error, she ran a tight ship and never backed down on her ideas. Today she had several meetings with suppliers in the morning, one lunch with a prospective rival company executive and then, as was custom on a Friday, she had the afternoon out of the office and out of contact for her weekly massage and general pampering.
She washed with little thought, as if her hands just went through the motions without any conscious effort on her part, her mind too caught up in plans for the day, figures to please buyers and to crush competition. Shutting off the water she stepped out of the shower cubicle and wrapped herself in a towel, wrapping her hair in another as she padded back into her bedroom.
En route from the bathroom to her walk in wardrobe she picked up the file she had been reading the night before and flipped through it until she came to the profile that her researchers had given her on her competition. Making a few assumptions from the photos and the personal history she had been provided with she planned her outfit in accordance. Tight fitting white shirt, black skirt that reached just above her knees, but with a deep slit that reached just past mid-thigh, black suit jacket and three inch, black patent heels, all black underwear, if only to make her feel more powerful.
The morning passed without event, a few successful meetings secured new orders and approved the plans for the next season's catalogue and advertising push. By lunchtime her good mood had only improved and she was more determined than ever to make the lunch with her rival a success. Her plan? Crush them. Make it undoubtedly clear that there was no space for them in the market and that she was not a force to be reckoned with.
Gathering up a few essential files and figures she checked her messages with her secretary as she left the building, smiling as her heels clacked across the marble entrance hall. Catching her appearance in the many floor to ceiling mirrors that lined the hall she lifted her chin and swept her hair back of her face. 'Powerful, successful, unbeatable' she thought to herself, repeating it over and over as she walked the few blocks to the address she had been given. -- Spilling papers from his broken briefcase all over the pavement he cursed under his breath, this was hardly going to look good, she would be laughing at him already, without even hearing his plans for the business. She might have already left by the time he got there and all his plans would go to waste. With everything he knew about her this was his first and maybe only chance to get what he wanted.
Out of breath, his hair disheveled, mud spattered up the back of his new cream trousers from running across the park he turned sharply into front door of the office block, trying his best to look professional as he saw her sitting there in his waiting room.
She looked stunning, he knew how he looked to her, weak, out of place and easily defeated; but he wouldn't give in that easily.
"Ms. Renaldi." He said as he drew level with her, extending his hand in greeting.
"Mr. Thompson." She stood slowly but dismissed his offered hand, smiling politely as she took in his appearance. His suit would look stunning on the right person, and without the mud, she mused, but forgetting the clothes he still didn't look the part. Thick, slightly curly, dark brown hair framed his face, chocolate brown eyes that seemed to sparkle almost with mischief. Standing at about 5"11 he stood several inches above her, even in her heels, but he lacked that sharp, self-assured aura that she would have expected in any of her competitors.
"Please, come on through to the office. Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?" He fussed, guiding her towards his office, trying to regain his composure.
"Coffee would be lovely."
"Perfect." He paused, looking frantically around the office at the piles of disorganized papers scattered everywhere, before clearing her a space on the large sofa in front of the television he had set up that morning. "Why don't you take a seat here and watch our latest promotional video and I'll sort out some coffee for you? Milk and sugar?"
"No. Black with no sugar please."
