Mark Sawyer closed his office door and sat back down behind his desk. This last week had been something else. Hell, these last six months had been unbelievable. He just turned 31, 2 years removed from his Stanford MBA and he thought his life would be perfect. Then it all changed. Cheryl, his wife of 6 years, left him for another man. It didn't matter who he was, only that his college sweetheart had been unfaithful, broke his heart and was now dumping him. They had even been talking about starting a family, about how they would spend their life together. Without any warning, she told him she needed her ‘space.' Then he was served with divorce papers. Maybe it was a good thing when his boss Mr. Davis offered him a transfer to the Midwest three months later. He could use a break, a fresh start. His career would be fast tracked if he could turn around the Indiana office. So, with nothing more than heartache and frustration, he packed his bags, left everything he knew in California, and headed East to what he thought would be a simpler life.
He arrived early that first Monday morning, eager to put his old life behind him. He was all smiles as he was introduced to his new co-workers. His crisp new shirt framed his broad shoulders and his new tie accentuated his tanned, athletic body. His blue eyes sparkled as he shook hands with each new member of the team. The Indiana office had shown only a slight profit despite solid production and sales number and it was his job to improve the bottom line. Now, late Friday afternoon, his brown hair was messed and his eyes bloodshot from the mountains of papers he'd read through.
"Am I right about this?" he thought to himself. He'd gone over and over the data he had collected. He spent the past 3 weeks analyzing all of the figures, accounts and receipts, and his only conclusion was that someone was stealing from the company. He spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about how he should handle this.
Mark decided that he would do a little more digging before he went further. He suspected the bookkeeper, Paula Thornton, had been funneling money into several dummy accounts. Not outrageous amounts, but over time, approximately $45,000. Quite ingenious really, just a number of small, sporadic deposits here and there in dummy accounts that wouldn't draw much attention. Mark needed to be sure that these definitely were not legitimate payments before he went about accusing an employee of theft.
Paula Thornton was a well respected employee who had been with the company for almost 15 years. From Mark's early dealings with Paula, he surmised that she was well liked by her co-workers. She was not a strikingly attractive or unattractive woman, just kind of plain and nondescript. She was about 5-1 or 5-2, sandy brown hair with light brown eyes behind wire rimmed glasses. It was hard to describe her physically. Average sized he thought. She dressed casually, yet professionally. Her blouses, shirts and sweaters were loose. She always wore skirts, none of which rose above mid calf. Not a lot of jewelry and her hair was either pulled back or done conservatively.
Mark thought for a moment, "She doesn't draw much attention to herself. Kind of like her crime." He accessed her company files and learned that she was 44 years old, married, with two children.
He had dug a little deeper and had learned that Paula's husband, George, had been out of work for 4-1/2 years now. He had gone through a series of menial jobs, but for the past 2 years he had found his ‘calling' as a part-time Pastor/Reverend/Deacon or whatever he called it. Car payments, food, clothing for the kids, and a mortgage would be tough to make on her salary. It's not like George couldn't find steady work. He just seemed to be lazy. Paula, by all accounts, was supportive of George's calling, even though it provided little income. Mark surmised that divorce would have been out of the question. It made sense to him why Paula would take the money. Strangely, he felt a slight twinge of compassion for her. She was in a tough position, and now he would have to make it worse. He didn't really want to call the authorities but he couldn't let this pass or continue. Besides, he didn't make her take the money. She did it of her own free will. Plus, he had his career to think about. Not that it was the most important thing in his life. That was Cheryl, and look what happened there. "Might as well make the cash," Mark had reasoned.
Mark decided to wait a week. He wanted to spend the time studying and verifying all of his facts; to be sure that he was indeed 100% correct in his accusation. Each day, from afar, he would watch Paula. It was during this time that it occurred to Mark that his first assessment of Paula might have been a bit off. Oh, he was sure she had performed the ‘creative accounting,' but he was now paying more attention to Paula and he began to notice her features. Behind those glasses was an attractive face. Her body seemed to be better than he originally thought. Her waist was narrow, yet her hips curved very nicely. Even though her tops were ill-fitting, it became clear to Mark that Paula also had rather large breasts. He watched her from across the room as she bent over the file cabinets. "Not bad for two kids. A nice wrack as well. What a waste. Her with that loser," Mark thought. It was then he noticed he was semi aroused.
Mark went back to his office and shut the door. As he sat down behind his desk, he realized that this was the first time since he found out about Cheryl's cheating that he had become aroused. And by an older woman who had been stealing from his company. An old, preacher's wife who was married to a loser with a couple of kids. "God, am I fucked up or what?" he thought. But as he sat there, looking out the office window, Mark began to let his mind wander. Slowly, a small smile grew on his face. "This could get interesting," he said to himself.
Friday rolled around. Mark had spent a lot of time thinking about his course of action. Around 4:30, he called Paula Thornton. "Ms. Thornton, this is Mark Sawyer. I need to see you in my office before the end of the day today."
A momentary pause was followed by "Sure Mr. Sawyer. I'll be there in just a minute". They both hung up the phone and Mark reached behind him, semi-closing his blinds.
"Perfect," he thought. Sitting back in his chair he heard a knock at his door.
"Come in."
Paula opened the door and walked in. "You wanted to see me Mr. Sawyer?" She stood in the doorway, wearing a white cotton blouse, a gray wool skirt and with her hair and make-up neat but unremarkable. Her face seemed flush, either from nervousness or annoyance of a meeting being scheduled this late in the day on Friday.
Mark did not look up from his papers. "Yes Ms. Thornton. Come in and close the door please. I'll be with you in a minute."
Paula closed the door and moved to the front of Mark's desk, hands folded in front of her, uneasy, yet acting cool and collected while not really knowing what was happening. "What is this all about?" she thought. After a moment, Paula nervously said, "May I sit down?"
Still mulling over his files, "Of course" Mark replied as he motioned for her to be seated. Mark purposely and deliberately took his time going over the papers in front of him. Paula sat there, watching him, trying to see what he was looking at so intently. Out of the corner of his eyes, Mark watched as Paula crossed her legs, her hands folded in her lap again. Finally, looking up into her eyes, Mark said, "Well Ms. Thornton, we seem to have a problem here."
"What do you mean?"
