By mid-afternoon, she had taken off the boots. It was a hot day, and even the office's modest air conditioning could not keep her cool enough. Technically, it was against the rules to run around the office barefoot--or even in open-toed shoes--but on a slow, hot day such as this, nobody cared. The secretary walked to the bathroom barefoot, but carrying her boots in one hand.
"Is she going to put those boots back on?" asked one of her male co-workers.
"Probably afraid they?ll get stolen," replied a female co-worker. "They look expensive."
"I'm surprised she wasn't wearing socks under there," said another man, who also worked in the office. "I always wear socks with boots."
"Men are supposed to do that!" said the female co-worker.
"What I meant was--" the second man started to say, but the secretary's return interrupted him.
The secretary was wearing the boots again, but she had unbuttoned the front of her skirt, creating a slit that ended above her knees. She had also taken off the jacket.
"Good God--" whispered the second man.
"Shh!" said the female co-worker.
"But she's not wearing anything under her T-shirt!?
"Grow up!" whispered the female co-worker. "Don't you have work to do? You could be sued for sexual harrassment!"
"You don't think she would?" the second man asked the first.
"Not her, you idiot--me!" snapped the female co-worker.
The secretary looked up. "Something wrong?" she asked.
"No," said the first male co-worker. "But we were just noticing your, uh, skirt. It's very pretty."
"I've been wearing it all day, and you just noticed it? You guys must be working very hard."
The female co-worker sniffed. "They've been busy, all right. They find you quite attractive, Linda."
"And 'distractive,'" said a sarcastic male voice. "Would all of you please step into my office--NOW!" Mr. Robertson glared at all four of his employees. "Linda, button your dress and put your jacket back on."
"What have you done today--Fred?" he asked the first male worker.
"I'm waiting for a call from St. Paul. They're trying to find the shipment I ordered last week--"
"Of what?" Robertson pounded his desk.
"These," said Fred, placing a small stack of papers on the boss's desk. "They should be here by now, but they aren't." Fred placed more papers on the boss's desk. "These are all in order and need to be signed."
"Marge, how have you justified your employment today?"
The female worker began reading a list. "You are tentatively scheduled to meet with Mr. Pierce in Philadelphia next Thursday."
"Cancel it. He stiffed me last time. All I care about is Senator Klein."
"You have an appointment with a Ms. Rose--one of his aides--this Friday; then she will brief the Senator over the weekend for your meeting at nine o'clock Tuesday morning.
"The pompous bastard. Anything else?"
"The mayor cancelled for tomorrow. When can you reschedule?"
"Another pompous ass. Call him and tell him--or that floozy of a secretary that he has--that he'll see me tomorrow if he wants to get re-elected."
"That's all," concluded Marge.
"Jeff, why shouldn't I fire you today?"
"Here's the budget. It's done."
Robertson looked over the budget. "It's not great, but I suppose its the best we can do." He turned to Linda. "What the hell are you wearing under that dress--daisydukes?"
"Of course not, Mr. Robertson. I'm a lady; I'm wearing a slip."
"Marge, book me two tickets to Washington. If Linda can affect the good Senator half as much as she affects Fred and Jeff here, I might be able to get him to see things my way. After you do that, Marge, you may call it a day. Fred and Jeff, wait for the cramps in your legs to disappear before you leave. Linda, here's two-hundred bucks, buy yourself more of whatever you're wearing. Try not to start a riot."
"You'll be staying over at the usual place in Washington?" Marge asked.
"No, let's try this joint," Robertson said. "The Senator likes to be seen there." He handed Marge a slip of paper. Marge rolled her eyes. "That's some Senator. Are you planning to blackmail him?"
"With Linda along, I don't think that'll be necessary."