"I think I have some things that might make you want to employ me." She slid her hands over the front of her tight black leather skirt. Very slowly she eased the hem up, showing her stocking tops, then the creamy whites of her thighs and finally the tight black crotch of her panties and the swell of her pussy-mound.

Hugh sat there and followed the line of the skirt hem with his eyes, his face breaking slightly into a mocking grin.

"Yes," he said at last as Melinda started to ease the hem of her skirt down, "I can see you have some powerful arguments there."

"Then I'll be hearing from you soon," Melinda said, going back to the chair and picking her purse up.

"Yes, you'll be hearing from me soon."

Melinda left his office and headed for the nearest phone, confident that she had got another victim on the hook. She dialed Hugh's number.

"Oh, hi, Doctor Mason," Melinda sighed. "It's me, Melinda Davidson. I have something I think you ought to hear."

She switched on the tape recorder she'd hidden in her purse and played back their conversation over the phone.

"Just think what the ethics committee would say about that," she said.

There was a short silence.

"What do you want?"

"Oh, say, ten thousand."

"You nasty little bitch!" Hugh spat.

"Naughty, naughty, bad words make it twenty thousand," Melinda chided.

"All right," he said at last. "Where do I meet you?"

"How about Fifth and Main?" It was one of the busiest crossroads in town.

"Okay," he said levelly. "What time?"

"Oh, say, eight tonight?" Melinda whispered.

"Okay, I'll be in…"

"A BMW, I know," Melinda interrupted. She put the phone down, feeling very pleased with herself. This was the eleventh time she'd pulled the scam, and each time it got better. Go for the job, flash her tits and legs.