I could still run. My feet stayed put. The door opened, her eyes widened in recognition and then she gave me a knowing grin. Shit, we often nodded to ...ach other on the street. At the shops. "Come in... Brian?" she said."Dan." I came clean. Bit late for worrying about awkwardness now."Dan! I'm Fleur. I'm expecting... Brian?"I nodded."Come in, I've just put on a pot."She led me to a couple of straight-backed chairs at a solid-looking oak desk, hips swaying in a black silk robe; she was about my. She's one of those proper women who thinks she's above everyone else in the office. I guess you'd say she has a superior attitude. Always acting so prim and proper. Marcy dresses conservatively, not that the tall skinny bitch has any kind of figure. I'd estimate her age to be 45, or so, but I don't know. For a nosy little bitch, she pretty much kept to herself. As far as looks she was pretty plain. Not ugly, but she was no Jessica Alba, either.Anyways, one day I'm in my cubicle, minding my own. More

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