"Well, you got it if you want it," the man said, interrupting her observations.

"Huh?" Sara said stupidly, wondering what he was talking about.

"The job," he said, standing and adjusting his clothing. He seemed to suddenly have a complete personality change. No longer as warm and friendly, he was now the typical successful businessman. He picked up a folder from the desk and sat down. "You'll do my typing, travel with me, and naturally, keep me sexually satisfied."

Sara was stunned. She stood up and smoothed her skirt trying to find some hint of the warmth she had noticed when she had first entered the room. He looked up and nodded, dismissing her.

"When?"

"Tonight," he answered, knowing her question. "You'll start to work tonight. Your place or mine?" When Sara shrugged her shoulders, he added, "Mine, then. Here's my card. The address is on it. Be there at eight, and bring an overnight bag." When she turned and made for the door, she added, "It will be a pleasure working with you, Miss Price. Until eight…"

Sara closed the door, her knees about to buckle – partially from her spent passions and partially from a building rage. She stormed out of the building into the blinding sun and found her car in the parking lot. It took her several moments before she could gain enough control just to unlock the door. Finally she slipped behind the wheel and gripped it until her knuckles turned white.

"That sonofabitch!" she spat. "Just who the fuck does he think he is?"

She looked at his business card and frowned. It read: Greg Martin, along with his home address. In the upper left hand corner was: Chairman of the Board, Martin Enterprises.

"Well, Mr. Martin, Chairman of the Board, Martin Enterprises, you can just go straight to hell. I'd rather die than go over to your house and be one of your bought women!"