I had this deal all lined up and the deadline was getting near. I had all the paperwork sorted out and all it needed was a final check and then some signatures.
Then a couple of days before the paperwork had to be handed over, one of managers rang me at home. From his home. He'd taken his part of the documentation home with him the previous day for a final review and had intended to hand them in to me today. Not a problem. That left me several days leeway, which is the way I like it.
However, he had eaten something that disagreed with him, quite violently. As far as he was concerned he was not venturing more than a few feet from the nearest throne room, thank you very much, and it would probably be several days before he made it back to work. Did I want him to courier the papers to the office or would I like to send someone to collect them?
Damned if I was trusting that sort of paperwork to a courier. I knew where Frank lived. Not far off the route that I take to work. No problems, I told Frank. I'll just get up half an hour early and swing past your place on the way to the office.
So early next morning, and a bloody cold morning it was, I swung past Frank's place. He answered the door in pyjamas and dressing gown and pointed to the living room.
"Just sit in there and warm yourself by the fire while I go get the papers," he said.
I was wandering into living room when I heard Frank give what sounded like a muffled curse and then he was running for the toilet, swearing. Sympathetic, but amused nevertheless, I sat back in a comfortable armchair and enjoyed the wood fire he thoughtfully had going.
Then this lovely young thing came scampering into the room, carrying some clothes in her arms. She dumped the clothes on the floor near the fire and started toasting her hands. She was wearing a nightie, and that was all she was wearing. Standing with the fire behind her, that nightie was effectively transparent and I had a perfect view.
What do you do in a case like this? You press the record movie button on your smart phone and enjoy the show.
This, I surmised, was Frank's daughter, Leanne. Leanne was eighteen, had just finished school with some excellent results and was looking for work.
I knew her age and her scholastic record because she'd put in an application via her father for an entry position in the company. I have a rule that any relatives of managers who apply for a job in the company have to be cleared by me, if they get past the initial Human Resources screening.
Leanne had cleared the Human Resources hurdle and her resume had already been across my desk. I'd approved it and she would be sent a letter of acceptance very shortly, with the proviso that she wouldn't be working in her father's department.
The next thing I know, Leanne has whipped off her nightie and now she was really naked. To my amusement she turned around and offered her bottom to the fire for a few moments before she started scrambling into her clothes.
Leanne had just finished getting dressed and picked up her nightie when Frank came back into the room with a folder in his hand.
"Sorry about that, Peter," he said. "Now you can see why I'm not coming to work today. This has all been checked and I'm happy with it and have signed off on it. Leanne being keeping you entertained, has she?"
Leanne had frozen on the spot, her mouth dropping open. She'd finally noticed me seated there and she didn't know what to say.
"Thanks, Frank," I said, smiling, "and yes, Leanne has been amusing me while I waited. I'll see you back at the office when you're feeling a bit better."
Frank nodded and then suddenly seemed to stiffen. He said a quick, "See Peter out, please, Leanne," and he was turning and departing very quickly.
"Has Frank seen a doctor?" I demanded.
"Oh, yes," said Leanne, in a very nervous sounding voice. "The doctor was here before you arrived. He gave dad an injection which he said will help but it may not kick for an hour or so. He should be fine."
Leanne started towards the door. She looked at me nervously as she opened the door to let me out and followed me outside.
"Um, I should apologise for what happened in there," she said, blushing and not looking at me.
I laughed. She should apologise?
"Rather, let us say that I should apologise. I should have spoken up as soon as you came into the room but didn't quite know how without embarrassing and scaring you. I mean, how would you have reacted if I'd said hullo while you were toasting your pretty little tush?"
I was wrong. She wasn't blushing earlier, just a shade pinkish around the cheeks. Now she was blushing, remembering how she'd ditched her nightie and offered her bottom to the fire.
"You have a very nice figure, you know," I told her, keeping my voice casual. "How about coming around to my place and letting me see it again. I'd really like to get closer acquainted with it."
If she kept blushing like that she was going to have a stroke.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled, "but no. I don't do that sort of thing?"
She should. She has a lovely body, and ideally suited to pleasing a man.
"Why not?" I asked. "You're old enough. Are you a virgin?"
"That is none of your business," she snapped.
I was pleased to see she had a bit of spirit. I really don't seem to get on too well with women who let you walk all over them. I keep wanting to tell them to grow up and get some backbone.
"That generally means that yes, you are. And it is my business if I'm going to take you to bed. It's better for me to know in advance rather than hear you wailing 'it hurts', just because you forget to warn me.
"I'm sure you mean to be flattering," Leanne said with a chill in her voice, "but you're not. I'm not going to sleep with you.
"There'd be damn little sleeping, I assure you," I told her. "And why not?"
