Deal or no deal?

I've written the preamble. I'm at the part in the story where it gets interesting. She's a legal intern at a law firm and she has been called up to see one of the senior partners. She has no idea what to expect, but chances are she's made a blunder. She's a diligent sort of girl and she hates making a mistake at all, much less be told off for it.

She's apprehensive. She's been told to "go straight in". She knocks on the door. She hears a voice that tells her to "enter".

She opens the door. He's on the telephone, engrossed in conversation. He's a big guy, well dressed and with a deep voice. He's telling someone off; telling them that he doesn't care how long it took. "It has to be done again."

He focuses on her for a moment and waves her in, makes a hand gesture to tell her to sit down at the chair in front of his desk. She does so.

She's anxious, but she is also pleasantly surprised. She likes sitting there watching him. She finds his assertive voice very appealing. She notices his hands. They are big and his fingers are long; well manicured nails. She finds his hands so alluring for some strange reason.

She scarcely notices that he has stopped talking and put down the phone. She is deep inside her skull and all the possibilities that the situation suggests to her slutty state of mind.

"Now, Miss Simpson, let's deal with you..."

"Yes, please. Deal with me."

© Vesta
2009

(These words are part of a story and belong to me. Please do not steal them.)