"Rhett, can you come in here?" My wife's voice sounded tense so I went down to the office right then.
"What's wrong honey?"
"Who the hell is Aoife?"
Oh shit, I thought to myself, instantly dreading what my wife might know about her. See, Aoife works for me at Lochman and Fine. It's a pretty big company specializing in negotiating bills between hospitals and insurance companies. Admittedly boring stuff, but it gets complicated fast and since I'd been working with a pretty big client, I was allowed to hire an additional person.
The main thing I learned about Aoife from her interview is that she is smoking hot. She wore this white, button up shirt. Over this she had a lacy tea green shawl. The green matched her eyes and brought out the fire in her curly red hair. She a bit on the slender side; maybe 5'9'' and 110 pounds? She was cute, with perfectly proportioned face. Her shirt was unbuttoned enough to see the tops of her breasts, which looked smooth and firm. I so wanted to reach out and feel then.
So I guess you could say I hired her for her smarts. No seriously, she was smart as a tack and funny. Within a week, she could process claims as fast as anyone. You can imagine why when we got a bit backed up on paperwork, I was thrilled when she offered to stay late and help. Still, by seven PM, my mind was starting to wander.
"Yes?" she said.