Choosing Her Lover
Chapter 10
*****
The first day at my new job, and…. it’s just great.
I spend an hour with the HR department being taken through the usual form filling and pep-talk stuff, then am assigned to my Supervisor, Mrs Gillis.
She’s middle-aged and hugely fat, sweet but efficient, and quickly talks me through my duties; how the intercom and phone systems work, where to send the various and huge number of visitors and deliveries to the building, where visitors sign in, emergency numbers for Security, Medical Staff and other essential services. It is driven home to me that I am working for a huge organisation.
“I’m only in the back office through there, Dear,” she says, waving towards a door to the rear. If you have any problems, just give me a shout.”
Then she potters off, leaving with my new post, my new duties.
I have a desk centred in the large, glass-fronted lobby of the Haswell Offices, and it is my job to ensure the smooth flow of visitors in and out of the building, assign deliveries to their correct destination and generally be a good ‘face’ for the company I represent.
And for most practical purposes, once I know fully what I am doing, I will be very much my own boss.
Perfect!
Sitting behind my desk I can indulge in one of my favourite past-times, people-watching. A steady stream of visitors enters and exits; needing guidance, entry, sometimes name badges or phone calls to check appointments. I am helped by the fact that the system already runs like clockwork and I simply have to facilitate matters. So, I do my work easily, giving visitors a smiling face and a good impression as they arrive.
I love this job.
The elevator doors swoosh open, and a man steps out into the lobby. He glances briefly around and then walks to the outer doors, glancing at his watch. Then he simply stands, waiting for something.
He’s tall and leanly built, dark-haired and dark-eyed, and he carries himself well, walking very upright, although with a slight limp. He wears a business suit, expensive but not flashy; classically cut, it hangs well on his long frame.
There is something about him that seems familiar….
He stands with a touch of arrogance to his manner. Everything about his stance puts him in charge of the situation, one of Life’s natural Doms….
….. He definitely looks familiar somehow. I know him from somewhere…. But where….?
Oh, God. I do know you….
It was what, two, maybe three years ago….
visitor to the
any badge, and besides, the authority he radiates clearly bespeaks
looks away once more. Clearly, he also thinks that we know each other
Inside, I cringe….
in a smile. Looking back across at me, he
other, don’t we? It’s Debbie, isn’t
didn’t have that limp when
tap my name badge, a hot flush rising up my neck.
Are you new here? I don’t recall seeing you on
Are you waiting for someone, um… Sir?
appointment. But thank you for asking. Are you enjoying the
It’s great. Much better than what I was
hear it. Well, good luck with
silence, and we share one of those awkward pauses of near-strangers who don’t really have anything to say to each
status of this previously encountered Dom. He’s wearing a ring on his left
have that either when
and your friend…. out and
smile. “Yes, he’s fine. He got married
“Ah…. Shame….”
blistered my
honeyed masculinity, and I remember why I let this man slap my butt
who
“And…um…. you?”
be
been…. out and about…. much recently either. I….
“Oh…. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
to Mrs Summerford on extension 4528. Tell her that I can’t wait and she’ll have to get her husband to
“Of course, Mr….”
“Alexanders…. James Alexanders, since we
I stand to shake the hand. His grip
dignified with someone who’s seen me naked,
About Choosing Her Lover - Chapter 10
Choosing Her Lover is the best current series of the author Denis Palmer. With the below Chapter 10 content will make us lost in the world of love and hatred interchangeably, despite all the tricks to achieve the goal without any concern for the other half, and then regret. late. Please read chapter Chapter 10 and update the next chapters of this series at novelebook.com