Chapter 18

Marsha had never been as miserable in her entire life. Losing Dan had been heart breaking and her rape by Trent had been disturbing, but the discovery of Randy's secret sex activity and the divorce had absolutely devastated her. The marriage she had dreamed of and tried to live had come crashing down around her. Her previous job which had helped supplement their income was now inadequate to provide totally for the two of them. She had interviewed at four different companies but all, while sympathetic, indicated she simply did not have the skills nor experience needed. In reality Marsha wondered if they simply did not wish to inherit her reputation of being the wife of a child molester. Whatever the reason desperation was beginning to set in. Chris had gotten an after school job at a local grocery store but unless Marsha found something soon she would default on the mortgage payment and sooner or later the trailer, as small as it was, would be lost.

It was then that her fortunes seemed to improve. An old friend from high school called to tell her of a job opening at a successful women's clothing design company.

"I heard that the president of the company is looking for a personal assistant. Now the grapevine has it that she can be pretty demanding but the pay is good. You'd be arranging her meetings and accompanying her on a lot of her trips to see clients and attend shows," said the friend.

"Sounds like something I could handle," mused Marsha.

"Then give it a shot. I've got her number here. Grab a pen and paper."

Marsha copied the number and after a bit more catching up on some of their classmates she thanked the friend, promised to keep in touch and called to schedule an interview.

Not able to afford a new outfit, Marsha wore the closest thing she had to a business suit: dark slacks, open collared blouse and jacket.

"You look great, Mom," smiled Chris. "You'll wow her."

"I hope you're right," she replied. "Wish me luck."

"You know it."

With that she drove downtown to the skyscraper where Lymon Lingerie had its headquarters. In the lobby she was directed to the 27th floor where she found the modern interior design overwhelming.

Marsha tried to hide her nervousness as she approached the receptionist.

"I'm ... I'm Marsha Collins," she said using her maiden name. "I have an appointment with Ms. Lymon."

"Ah, yes, Ms. Collins. Please have a seat. Ms. Lymon will be with you shortly."

Marsha took a seat and nervously thumbed through a magazine.

The intercom buzzed and the secretary picked up the phone, listened, then smiled.

"Ms. Lymon will see you now," she said indicating the large opaque glass door.

Marsha paused, her hand on the door handle, and tried to compose herself. Her heart was racing and her mind afog. Taking a deep breath she turned the knob and walked in.

The office was large, massive panes of glass on two sides providing a spectacular view of the city. Ginger Lymon sat behind an opulent glass topped desk. Marsha was immediately overwhelmed by the appearance of the fashion designer. The woman was tall, at least a head taller than Marsha with long flowing rich auburn hair. Her face was a bit angular and more handsome than pretty. Her body was lean but curvaceous where it needed to be, full breasts and hips, small waist, luscious legs. She wore a navy blue pin striped pant suit with a ruffled collar and cuffed silk blouse. The woman was impressive and intimidating.

"You're... ?"

"Uh, Marsha Collins."

"Well. sit down Ms. Collins and tell me about yourself."

"Well, I'm a high school graduate and I've worked a couple of jobs." "Hmmm. I'm looking for a personal assistant. The job would involve a great deal of travel. You'd be responsible for arranging my schedule, seeing that I don't miss any important meetings and basically attending to my personal as well as professional needs. Think you could do that?"

"I'm ... I'm sure I can. I'm good at organizing and working with people."

The woman looked her up and down and when her eyes stopped on Marsha's attractive legs, the mother of one squirmed a bit with embarrassment. There was an air of sensuality about the executive which kept Marsha slightly disoriented. Lymon noticed it and was amused.

"We sell sensuality here Ms. Collins, in the form of clothing which enhances the feelings of sexual excitement in men and women. Normally I would be looking for someone with a bit more education and/or experience and a bit younger, but -- I see something in you I like."

The executive wrote a figure on a slip of paper and pushed it toward Marsha. The housewife's eyes almost popped when she read the figure.

"Adequate?" asked the executive.

"Uh, yes, most adequate!"

"We'll have to get you into some designs that are more appropriate and -- have you ever thought about breast and hip enhancement?"

Marsha almost smiled. She had indeed had breast and hip surgery, but for results quite the opposite of what Ginger Lymon had in mind.

"I'd have no objection to..."

"Good. I can't have a personal assistant wearing sensuous outfits with nothing to hang them on. We have a plastic surgeon who does work for our models. I'll have my secretary make an appointment."

"You want me to have the surgery right away?"

"Yes, at company expense. I don't want you meeting anyone until you can properly fill out a dress.

"I ... I could wear ... padding."

"No. No one at Lymon Lingerie wears padding of any kind."

"I see. Very well, I'll have it done right away."

"As soon as you are ready, report to work. In the meantime I'll have our design department whip up some things for you."

"You're being so very generous. I don't know how to thank..."

"Get the surgery done. Then we'll see how grateful you are."

"Yes, Ms. Lymon," Marsha managed to say, backing out the door.

As she made her way to her car, Marsha could not believe her good fortune. The figure the woman had quoted was almost three times what Randy had ever made at the machine shop. Her spirits raised as she thought about now being able to afford the mortgage payment and what she might be able to get for Chris -- that newer computer for his school work, maybe even a car when he turned sixteen. Yes, she thought, things were looking up. Little did she know.

Chris shared her excitement and continued to shower her with attention. However, with the surgery and new job in the offing Chris wasn't able to make much headway. His compliments continued but there seemed to be time for little else.

Marsha met the doctor, explained her previous surgery and the two planned the dimensions of her new body. The surgery went well and since the doctor was very experienced with glamour models, the healing was quick and without scaring of any kind. Once again Marsha had a body of which she could truly be proud. Her first day of work she wore a rather revealing short floral dress with high neckline but extremely short hem. Lacy stockings and stiletto heels completed the daring outfit. Despite the fact that she had always considered her legs to be one of her most attractive features she was very self conscious as she stepped off the elevator. Even standing, the dress barely came down far enough to hide the black lacy thong which matched the stockings.

"Better. Much better!" opined Ginger as she stepped out of her office. I have a meeting right now. Be in my office in thirty minutes."

"Yes, Ms. Lymon."

The secretary/receptionist eyed the newcomer as Marsha asked,"What should I do for the next thirty minutes?"

"Relax, if you can. Your first day?"

"Yes, can't you tell?" laughed Marsha.

"You do seem a bit nervous. Perhaps this will help," said the young secretary offering her a pill and glass of water.

"Oh, I don't think..."

"It's just a pill to relax you a bit. You're going to need all the composure you can get."

"What do you mean?" asked Marsha swallowing the pill along with a drink of the water.

"Then you and Ms. Lymon haven't... ?"

'Haven't what?"

"Maybe I should just let it be a surprise."

"Surprise? What are you talking about?"

"I would have thought you would have figured it out by now."

"Figured what out?"

Marsha was indeed beginning to feel the effect of the pill. She was beginning to feel just a bit woozy.

"Your job requirements."

"But ... Ms. Lymon said..." Her speech was a little more difficult now and her mind seemed to wander. She found it hard to concentrate.

"Oh you'll be doing all those things she told you all right. It's just that there might be some extracurricular activities expected as well."

" ... Wha ... What ... extracurricula..." The words came slow and sloppy. Marsha was confused and disoriented.

"I think you're just about ready," said the attractive blonde.