Harriet became extremely nervous when her office phone rang and she saw the number of Carla Shanks, P.A. to Fastnett Computers owner Devon McGuire flashing up.
Picking up, she tried to remain calm.
'Yes Carla' she politely enquired.
'She wants to see you,' said the haughty P.A., 'now.'
Harriot was confused. Why on earth would the owner of the company Devon McGuire be wanting to see her she thought to herself? She was practically at the bottom of the food chain, so many grades below Devon it was almost ridiculous. A minion who came round with the mail, a coffee or tea girl at best.
True she was a pretty girl, with long brunette hair, pert small breasts and long legs which had made more than one of the male computer engineers imagine getting into her panties.
However, the computer engineers were not calling the shots at Fastnett. The owner Devon McGuire was. She hired and fired at will and aided and abetted by her P.A. Carla, who had a fearsome reputation and was best avoided at all costs, had total control at the company.
Hariett needed to pee but daren't take time to go. So, it was with a sense of dread that she nervously tugged down her short skirt, chosen at random because it was just another work day (or so she had thought), ran her hand through her hair and went over to Carla's office and tentatively knocked at her door.
'Come in' called Carla.
'What kept you' she said coldly. 'You know Ms. McGuire absolutely hates being kept waiting.'
Harriet flushed as Abigail insolently ran her eyes down over her little breasts and mid-thigh skirt before she had time to answer.
'Did you dress in a hurry this morning, Harriet,' Carla asked bitchily, 'better smarten up, you know what's she's like. Bit short isn't?' she said pointedly, looking at Harriet's skirt. 'Or are you just trying to show off your underwear?'
'Go on then' she sneered, 'don't just stand there' and feeling humiliated Harriet went scarlet before she turned to the glass door of Devon's inner sanctum.
Ill at ease now Harriet could see that Devon was in deep earnest conversation with two men, who looked like they might be in their forties. Out of the corner of her eye Devon saw Harriet and impatiently waved her in.
'Two of our highly respected clients, she said proudly.
'Take them on a tour of the building. Nothing is off limits,' she continued. 'Nothing, do you understand?'
Harriet realized there would be no introductions, the clients just stared at her
unsmiling but seemed to be taking a particular interest in her long legs.
There was an awkward silence and she started to fervently wish that she had chosen a longer, less tight, skirt and wondering why she had chosen this one on this day of all days because it was one that definitely showed a hint of panty line. Harriet fidgeted; she should have definitely gone for a pee.
'What an earth are you doing,' snapped Devon, ' and see me tomorrow about dress code.' This casually lobbed grenade exploded in Harriet's ears.
'Go on then you silly girl,' Devon said, 'stop daydreaming and remember what I told you.'
