"Do it, unless you want me to fire you and save them the trouble of paying for your training weekend," he sneered nastily at Gillian.

Gillian nodded her head and wept a little when Joe had gone.

That Friday night, very nervous, Gillian caught the flight, a small commuter one, then she was met at the airport by a young, fresh-faced, brunette-haired girl.

"Hi," the brunette said, "I'm Alda; I'm taking you to the seminar."

"Oh, thanks," Gillian said and sat beside her, clutching her purse.

"I'm Dean's girl Friday," Alda said with a giggle, as she drove out of the airport.

"Dean?"

"Dean Harper; I do everything for him." She giggled again and Gillian saw that the girl's already short skirt was riding up her shapely thighs as she shifted around in the seat. And the top of her blouse was open just a little more than it should have been. Gillian would never have allowed her cleavage to show.

Soon they were on a small winding road, and Gillian got nervous all over again.

"Where is this place?" she asked.

"Oh, a special hotel," Alda replied, giggling again. "Out of the way; quiet, you know, so that people can concentrate on what's going on. If you know what I mean."

Gillian didn't. "What's this all about?"

"Oh, it's a weekend for people who show promise," Alda said airily.

"But I've always been told how bad I am."

"I think Dean makes his own decisions," Alda said, driving up to a small hotel that was surrounded by tall Douglas firs.

Alda led Gillian in and showed her to a nice clean room on the second floor.

"I'll leave you to tidy up," she said, running her eyes over Gillian's plain dress. "They'll call you in about half an hour."

"Thank you." Gillian sat on the bed, then stared out the window.

She had a shower and changed; though she put on a dress that was just as sensible as the one she had traveled in. It was shapeless and the hem hung to well below her knees. She sat on the bed and waited, her stomach turning over with nervousness.