Chapter 1

The noise woke her up. Although it was half past eleven on a Tuesday morning, Jennifer - or Jennie with an 'i-e', thank you very much - was in bed feeling miserable and had dozed off. On Saturday she had had to move back in with her parents; after 3 years of un- and under-employment she could no longer afford the small bed-sitter that had been her home since moving out at 18. She had never gotten on with her mother and her mother's husband - everything from their reactionary politics to their joyless religion went counter to what she believed in, but in the end she had no choice. It was back to her old room or onto the street. And she didn't dislike them that much! At least not her mother. She detested her stepfather and he in return had seemed very reluctant to let her move back in.

She had tried everything to avoid the situation, living extremely frugally. She had sent scores of applications every week - good ones too; she was a trained secretary after all, but she got next to no interviews and had only held part-time temporary jobs. Sometimes she didn't even get her pay, but she couldn't afford taking legal action. And sometimes she had had sleazy offers. They had been turned down firmly.

Although she didn't share her parent's beliefs she was still influenced by them in as much as she was a virgin; technically speaking. Her deft hands, her pouty mouth and her deep silky-soft cleavage had triggered a fair few ejaculations, but she had never let a boyfriend get close enough to go all the way and get a dick inside her. While at school she stayed clear of this ultimate 'sinful temptation' her parents continuously warned her about. When she finally revolted, she had chosen an education that was women-only for all practical purposes - at least she met no eligible males. She had no close friends and rarely went out. The next chance to meet someone was usually through work, but she had never had a job long enough to meet anyone that special.

And at present her worries were financial, not romantic. Besides, she was in no fit state to do anything at all right now anyway. Normally she would be job-hunting at this time of day, but she had her period and felt awful. She had actually been physically sick after breakfast and had crawled back to bed. The noise was her cell-phone ringing. She fumbled for it and almost didn't answer in time "It's Jennie," she mumbled.

"Ms. Jennifer Banks?" a voice inquired. The man sounded cultured; Public school, but perhaps not quite upper crust.

"Yes, that's me," Jennie replied - this time sounding slightly more coherent.

"I was expecting you at 11AM. Has something happened?" the man said.

"Sorry, you lost me here. Who am I speaking to please?" Jennie said - her receptionist training kicking in.

"This is George Sanders," the man said. "You applied for a position with my company and I sent you a letter Thursday asking you to come for an interview at 11AM today. Surely it must have arrived?"

Jennie groaned inwardly. Finally a positive response to an application, and she didn't get the letter! She felt despondent. "I am terribly sorry Mr. Sanders. I had to move and obviously the letter has not been forwarded."

"Oh, I see. Yes, it sometimes takes a while before that service functions," the man said. Jennie could detect no anger or annoyance in his voice and her hopes rose. Presumably he didn't just call to scold her! His next utterance justified her optimism. "I don't suppose you would be able to come anyway with this short notice?" he asked.

"Why, certainly. It's Sanders IT Security, isn't it? I can be at your premises in about an hour," Jennie said. That was overly optimistic, but she was willing to give it her best shot.

"Shall we say 1PM?" the man said. He obviously knew London's public transport system quite well.

Relieved, Jennie agreed and hung up. She rushed out into the bathroom and had a quick shower. She wouldn't have time to wash her hair which was a pity - it could certainly do with a wash, but her thick mane of copper red hair took forever to dry. There wasn't time to press her nicest business skirt either; it would have to do as it was - slightly crushed. The top she found was at least clean and conservative. The man had sounded old-fashioned somehow. Better not show too much leg and cleavage. The latter was difficult; she hated her large breasts and squeezing them into a tight bra was painful because her period made them so tender.

She really also ought to hold back with the makeup, but although she usually had good clear skin, she was prone to acne during her period. She looked herself in the mirror and felt despondent again. She had several bad pimples and she thought she looked - and certainly felt - bloated. Not exactly the best way to present herself - late, bloated and painted like a tart to cover the blemishes. Not to mention in pain. She grimaced and realized she could scare small children with that expression.

She rushed to the train station and missed a fast connection by seconds. The next service stopped at all stations and by the time she got to her stop, she had only 5 or 6 minutes to spare. But she was determined to make it and ran as fast as her aching body and pretty but impractical shoes would allow. At 1PM exactly she pressed the button labelled 'Sanders IT Security' next to the door of an office block mercifully close to the tube station.

"Yes?" a male voice said. The sound from the intercom was bad so she couldn't tell if it was Mr. Sanders himself.

"Jennifer Banks to see Mr. Sanders," Jennie said, trying not to sound quite as out of breath as she felt.

"Excellent," the metallic voice replied. "Take the lift to the 3rd floor." She heard a buzzer, pressed open the door and crossed the small lobby to the lifts.

Inside the lift, she found a 'Sanders IT Security' sign with a logo along with similar signs of several other companies next to the '3' button. OK, perhaps the company wasn't all that big. 'No matter, ' Jennie thought, 'as long as they pay.'

When she got out of the lift she had to revise her opinion several times again. She came out into a spacious reception area common to all companies on the 3rd floor and surrounded by glass walls. 'Sanders IT Security" seemed to occupy at least half of the floor and was thus huge in terms of floor space compared to the others. Only there seemed to be very little activity. She went to the door which had a large version of the logo frosted into the glass. Unsurprisingly it was locked - it was a security firm after all - and she was about to knock on the thick glass when a man seemingly in his forties appeared from an inner office. He was dressed in a business suit and looked delicate or possibly even fragile. With a welcoming smile, he walked briskly to the door. He swiped some electronic device on his key ring and a quiet click announced that the door was unlocked. Before she could even react, he had swung open the door for her with more agility and strength than she would have expected from his appearance. He extended a well manicured hand.

"Welcome Ms. Banks," he said in his attractive cultured voice. "I am delighted that you could make it with such ridiculously short notice. I really appreciate that. And I see punctuality is one of your virtues. The radio-controlled clock in my office chimed one at the exact moment you pressed the button downstairs."

Jennie smiled faintly. "It was touch and go Mr. Sanders, touch and go. And I am grateful that you have not discarded my application despite me not showing up." She studied her potential boss. At this close range she could see that the suit was tailor made and of exquisite quality. His shirt looked tailor made too and his tie was nice. Not an old school tie, but very good taste. She also studied the man's face. His short hair was mostly grey except at the temples where it had turned almost completely white. The fragile look was only from a distance. He looked sinewy and tough at close quarters. She revised her guess of his age to late thirties. The lines of his face told Jennie that worries were not unknown to him, but his eyes - greyish blue and remarkably clear - were calm and determined. They were also friendly and strangely attractive. They held hers in a gentle lock.

George Sanders studied the girl as carefully as she was studying him. There had been scores of applicants and several he was sure could have managed fine, but the application from Jennifer Banks had captivated him. It was very well written and she presented herself well too - her lack of experience not withstanding. She was honest about that, and George liked honesty. But the girl had also enclosed a photograph and that had sealed her fate.

Her face was an almost exact replica of Lillian, the soon to be very ex-Mrs. Sanders, when young - down to the freckles across her nose and her green eyes. Her hair was even lusher than Lillian's had been at that age. Sure, little Ms. Banks' thick red locks could have done with a wash, but George knew that she wouldn't have had the time. 17 years with Lillian had taught him that. Her breasts were clearly larger than Lillian's - much larger; something the photograph hadn't shown. On a good day she would be a stunner. Today wasn't one - her face was slightly puffy now and she had applied some rather crude make-up in places. George smiled inwardly. OK, so the child had her period and tried to cover temporary acne. Poor thing.

They suddenly both realized that their hands were still locked in a firm clasp. Jennie felt embarrassed and started blushing, but Mr. Sanders just smiled, gave her hand a final light squeeze and let go. A paternal hand on her shoulder directed her towards his office. "This way, Ms. Banks, if you please."

The decor of the premises was like that of most high tech companies - nice, but bland, but Mr. Sander's office was furnished in very good taste. He guided her to a chair in front of an ancient desk and went to the opposite side. He beckoned her to sit down and she noticed he remained standing until she was seated. 'Full points for manners so far, ' Jennie thought.

She felt safe and comfortable in his company. And his faint smell of Bay Rum and Harris Tweed which would indicate a man in his late seventies, not his late thirties, somehow underlined the impression of respectability and trustworthiness. And yet something seemed odd. The heavy glass out to the reception area was no doubt an excellent sound insulator, but inside the premises she had expected the sounds of a high tech office. Yet apart from she faint humming of a desktop computer, the entire place was eerily silent.

That the front office was vacant did not surprise her. That was after all the position they had advertised. But it seemed strange there was no one else around at all. That the owner himself should be answering the door and interviewing secretarial staff was also unusual. Almost like he had read her mind he went straight to business. "Ms. Banks, you may wonder why we are here alone. To be completely honest - and honesty is the foundation for everything I do - 'Sanders IT Security' is at present a one man operation."