Our firm had a chance for a big deal with an interstate company. On paper the proposal looked good, really good, with a chance for decent profits for both companies. My boss put together a team and we flew interstate to spend a fortnight going over the whole proposal. The idea was that once we'd checked everything out we'd sign on the dotted line at the end of the fortnight.
Seeing that I was going to be out of the state for two weeks I arranged for the woman next door to keep an eye on the house. She'd take in the mail and put out the rubbish bins when they were due. Just a preventive to give the house an occupied look and less appealing to light-fingered types.
I was sitting on the plane when I finally got a chance to read the proposed contract. Not my fault. I was an afterthought to the team. My opinion was that the contract seemed too good to be true which meant that there had to be a hidden hook. I'm a sort of forensic accountant. It's my job to take the books apart and find out what's really happening.
My boss and his team met with their counterparts and I was turned loose on the company's public records and financial statements. I was already antsy because of that too nice a contract and so I was looking at the company's finances with a somewhat jaundiced eye. Again, they looked too good. If the company was doing this well, why give another company such a sweetheart of a deal?
The first chink in the pretty picture came when I started checking listed assets. I saw one of their warehouses and then asked a local Real Estate office what they estimated the value to be. There was a big difference between their price and the listed price in the company's reports. That was the first chink, but not the last.
I came to the conclusion that the reason we were getting the contract was because no local firms would touch it. On the Thursday night I explained to my boss that if we took this contract we'd wind up being taken to the cleaners. There was a very big chance that the company would go down the tubes and if we were tied to them by this contract then we'd go down with them. We were, to put it bluntly, being conned.
The company were very unhappy when we pulled the plug the next day. They strongly reminded us that everything that had been discussed was commercially confidential. My boss was quite offended and rather rude. In my role as peacemaker I quietly pointed out to my boss that someone, name unknown, had dropped an amended version of that company's financial report with the bank that held their loans. It was my understanding that the bank would be asking some very pointed questions. Nothing to do with our suggested contract, just about things that were in the public domain, however much some people might wish they weren't.
The upshot of this debacle was that we flew home a week early, getting there early Friday evening. I grabbed some dinner in town and then headed home. Arriving home I thought that it wouldn't hurt to drop in and let my neighbour know that I was back but their lights were off, so I didn't bother. On the other hand, the lights at my place were on. Most of them, anyway, with the various blinds pulled.
A nice little puzzle for me. I didn't leave the lights on or the blinds pulled and I'm sure my neighbour didn't either. Why would they? This indicated to me that I had the intrusion of an unknown third party into my house. The obvious answer was to call the police and let them check it out but I didn't want to call them and finish up looking like an idiot when a perfectly reasonable excuse presented itself. I decided to just quietly look things over.
I slid quietly in the back door, which was unlocked. I could hear music and laughter. Genuine laughter, not the canned product on TV. It was also female laughter. I couldn't hear any masculine tones. Encouraged by this, I could handle a girl easily enough, I went quietly through the house.
Standing in the hallway and looking into the front room I beheld a bevy of beauties playing around. They had one of my laptops connected to the TV and were using the camera to put themselves on TV. I suspected that this had started off as a harmless prank and escalated. The girls were naked and giving provocative poses, giggling their heads off with each new pose.
I paid a quick visit to my bedroom and then returned, walking into the front room with movie camera pointed.
"Good evening, ladies," I said. "To what do I owe this honour?"
I was slowly panning the camera back and forth, making sure that the girls knew they were all being filmed. I had instant panic in the room.
All the girls were trying to hide behind each other, none of them wanting to be in the front and on camera. They were also shrieking and yelling and carrying on, demanding I get out of there. I waited it out, letting them get past the initial fuss. Finally they settled down and a lovely young blonde managed to come up with a coherent question.
"What," she asked, "are you doing here? You're supposed to be interstate."
"Ah, Michelle," I said. "You have to excuse me but I didn't recognise you straight away. I'm not used to seeing so much of you. I'm here because this is my house. Our interstate deal finished early so we came home. These things happen. More to the point, what are you and your friends doing here? Not that I'm complaining, mind you."
From the food and drink scattered around it was easy to see that they'd been having a bit of a party. The question was, why at my place?
Instead of answering Michelle demanded that I stop filming.
"Oh, sorry," I murmured, pointing the camera down.
"Give me the SD card," demanded a well stacked brunette.
I looked her over and she was well worth looking at. A nice full bust with negligible sag, lovely curves, padded in all the right places with no excess padding.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because we didn't agree to you filming us naked," she snapped.
"I didn't ask you to be in my house, naked," I pointed out.
"Irrelevant," she said decisively. "The card, please."
Seeing she was holding out her hand expectantly I politely placed the camera on it. She fiddled for a moment and then popped open the battery and card slot.
"Where's the card?" she asked, sounding surprised.
I just spread my hands in a what-can-I-say gesture.
"I didn't bother to put one in," I explained. "I thought that it would be rude to take photos unasked so I just pointed the empty camera at you. Interesting reaction though."
"You weren't taking pictures?" asked another girl.
I ran my eyes over her in a rather blatant fashion.
"Only with my mind," I admitted. "I shall treasure the memory. Besides, if I'd had an SD card in the camera I'm quite sure that someone," looking pointedly at the brunette, "would have stolen or broken it. They cost money, you know."
Various young ladies directed killing looks my way but they also looked relieved. The mood in the room became a lot more relaxed. On their part. Hell, facing half a dozen naked and nubile young lovelies I could be excused for being a little tense. Certainly in some areas of my body.
"Somehow we seem to have got off topic," I pointed out. "I believe we were discussing the fact that this is my house and you were about to explain why you are all here."
I looked pointedly at Michelle, waiting for an answer. She just looked helplessly back at me. The brunette came to her rescue.
