“I’m Karl. You look lost. Can I help
in any way?”
Amelia sighed
with frustration. “I’m looking for the Chief Executive’s office.
I’m afraid it’s all changed since I was last here.”
“You’re here
for the interviews for Personal Assistant?”
“That’s right,
but I hardly know where I am. The man on reception seems to think I
still remember, but it’s been too long.” She thrust out her hand.
“I’m Amelia, by the way.”
“Hi Amelia.
From that, I presume you’ve worked here before?”
“I have,”
Amelia smiled, “Several years ago. But it’s changed so much.”
“I suppose so.
Things don’t standstill.”
“I hate
feeling like the new kid on the block. I’ve busied myself bringing
up the children, but the youngest started school recently, and I
sort of promised myself I’d return.”
Karl glanced
at his wristwatch. “You’re rather early for the interviews. But
I’ll take you up if you like. I’m on lunch break at the moment so
no one will miss me.”
“That’s very
kind.”
“I’m fairly
new here myself. I’ve only been in the job four months, so I know
what a maze it can be.”
“So,” Amelia
said, “What do you do, apart from showing lame dogs around?”
“Me? I’m a
nobody, filling in time as a hack until something crops up… In
fact,” Karl said wryly. “I wondered at one point whether to apply
for the Personal Assistant’s job. It certainly has a ring to it.
People would know who I was then.”
There’d been a
time when everyone in the building knew Amelia. Being somebody , definitely mattered. She raised her brow. “So
what’s stopping you?”
Karl laughed.
“You’re a fine one; you’re not supposed to drum for the opposition.
Are you trying to talk yourself out of the post before you’ve got
it?”
“Seriously
though. Why haven’t you applied?”
Karl shrugged.
“There’s no likelihood of me landing a job like that. I don’t have
the experience. Possibly in a year or two, but not yet.”
They stopped
outside an office.
“I’m told it’s
new. The Personnel Manager has apparently reinvented everything.”
Karl held open the door for Amelia and they went into a small
reception room. Opposite them was another door; polished, imposing,
a gleaming brass plate announcing ‘Mrs Trentham, Chief
Executive’.
“Very
smart.”
“It will
probably be ages before anyone arrives. Would you like a cuppa
while you wait?”
Amelia nodded
gratefully. “Tea please. Black, no sugar.”
“How about
taking it in my office? It will be better than sitting here all by
your lonesome.”
“That’s very
kind. Thank you.”
She followed
him into the maze of corridors again.
They turned a
corner but Amelia’s heel slipped and she stumbled off balance. Karl
put out a hand to steady her, and caught her fresh white top in a
fist. In turn, she grabbed his shirt, and for an instant they
became a motionless montage on the verge of teetering.
History
revolves around such moments. Gladiators have won and lost battles
in the fraction of a second it takes for the mind to catch up with
events.
His shirt
suddenly split open and a rain of white plastic buttons flirted
between them.
Her buttons
remained intact, but her top opened wide and her breasts bounced
free. They were large, magnificently formed, with wide areolas
framing tight nipples that protruded proudly.
Karl ignored a
primeval instinct to grasp them, to squeeze them and touch each
wonderful nipple. Instead, he reached and pulled her top together,
hiding the beautiful display from view.
Amelia
clutched her white top a split second later, tucked her breasts
carefully into place, and fastened the buttons. Why the hell hadn’t
she worn a bra? Her eyes never left his as she did so. The moment
was extraordinarily sensuous, and sharing it with him made her
abdomen clench.
She smoothed
her top into place, not daring to look down, knowing her newly
rigid nipples would be standing out like