The inestimable Miss Teaque in
“DUALITY”
by Graham Murray
SMASHWORDS EDITION
Copyright© 2011, Graham Murray. Cover design by author.
Published by Living Books USA
NOTE: This work contains material not suitable for persons under the age of eighteen (18) or those of a sensitive disposition as it may contain descriptive sex scenes. By reading this eBook, you assert that you are in compliance with your local or state laws.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
This book is purely a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons whether living or deceased, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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DUALITY
David Pike was definitely feeling the pinch. Sure people got sick. But today? Of all days, she had to go and pick today to call in sick. It was enough to make you, well, sick.
David picked up the sheaf of papers from his desk and made his way over to the copy room. It was years since he’d used a photocopier and he wondered if he still remembered how they worked.
I’m the damn CFO he thought as he trudged along. I shouldn’t be doing this. That’s why I have a secretary in the first place. His thoughts drifted to Sharon, his secretary. She’d been with him for nearly seven years and in all that time had never taken a day off. Or a sick day for that matter. He fought down a twinge of guilt as he weaved his way between the cubicles and made a mental note to have some flowers sent to Sharon’s home today. She’d like that.
The copier room was as he remembered it all those years ago, except that the machines were now ultra-modern. After a few minutes of fiddling, he realized that they still worked in the same basic way. He arranged the papers in separate piles and set about making the numerous copies that he needed. As these were confidential financial files, he dared not risk letting them out of his sight. At the speed these new machines operated, he would be done in less than fifteen minutes.
As he loaded a new tray of legal paper into the machine’s base unit, a pair of very feminine legs appeared beside him, followed by a waft of exotic perfume. The legs were thrust into black high-heel shoes with a single strap around ankles as delicate as a sparrow’s. His eyes followed the legs up, up and up, over the flower-pattered summer skirt and across a silky white blouse and came to rest on the beautiful face looking down at him, framed between two large breasts.
He instantly recognized that face, but the name? It was Miss . . . He couldn’t remember, but he’d seen her around the office. All the men had. It was impossible not to notice her. She had a libido-attacking body that was always dressed at its best. He couldn’t help noticing that the top button of her blouse was doing sterling work at keeping her swellings in check. Yet they still moved slightly as she breathed, sending their subliminal message to his defenseless masculinity.
“Why, Mr. Pike,” she said with a smile in her voice. “On your knees? And in front of a lady. What will people say?”
David pushed the tray into place and stood up. He stared straight into the most striking hazel eyes he had ever seen. He found them somewhat disconcerting and strangely compelling, as if they were looking into his soul.
“Oh. Hello, Miss . . .” He paused, feeling himself flush at not knowing her name.
“Teaque,” she added helpfully. “It’s Miss Teaque. Like the wood?” She pointed across the room with a delicate, red-tipped finger. “From Accounts Received?”
David followed her finger. “Ah, yes. Of course.”
He had no idea where she worked and realized that he had never known her name. Besides, it was her body that everyone remembered, not her name. And her smile. At least the men did. She had a smile that all the men interpreted to mean, “Take me home and do whatever you want to me.”
She could flirt with a glimpse as she revealed her pearly whites behind ruby-red lips and swayed her hips as she glided along between the cubicles. Despite years of practice, David inadvertently let down his guard and allowed his eyes to drop momentarily to her neckline.
“But you can call me Marsha,” said Miss Teaque with another blinding smile. She had teeth so white he could almost hear the ting. David hadn’t realized before, but now he now looked into her eyes, he realized that she was only in her mid-twenties.
And what was that she had just said to him? To the CFO? Ye gods, the woman had nerve, that’s for sure. Then again, with a body and looks like hers, she could probably get away with murder. A bit of harmless, witty sexual innuendo certainly wasn’t going to go astray or get her up on a charge of harassment in the workplace. Who in his right mind would even contemplate such a thing? Mind you, there was old Simmons over in Receiving . . .