I went to the kitchen counter, opened one of the bottles, and poured myself a glass. I walked back to the center of the apartment and turned a full 3...0 degrees. I had just viewed everything that was my current existence except for the cubicle where I processed accounts from information someone above me provided and even that might not have been from a first-hand contact with a customer. I specialized in forms, not clients.I poured a little more wine into my glass and sat down at the little. I caught a quick glimpse of Vanessa jumping up from her stool, as I ran and knocked at the front door, hoping I might still be able to salvage the situation. When Vanessa opened the door she was wearing the towel around her waist. Above her pink bodice a rather large expanse of pale, freckled bosom was exposed, heaving deliciously in her current state of agitation. "It's only me," I said, in the vain hope that, if I played it cool, she would think that the face in the window was a figment of. More

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