Chapter 6

The weekend had been magical, trans-formative even. Everything was brighter or more wonderful to Harper now that the air had been cleared with his wife and the inner turmoil that had plagued him was gone. Still, the weekend had come to a close and Harper was treated to the familiar landscape of his usual route to work sliding by outside his car. For all the power that the Master PC program gave him, he still couldn't hold back the relentless march of the clock hands.

"I wish you could stay home with me today, Harp," Ashley had said as she made some last minute adjustments to his jacket and tie. She'd stopped him almost on the threshold for one last shot at detaining him. "Think you could maybe call in sick?"

"I could ... but our bills aren't going to pay themselves. I'll be back before you know it, Ash," he'd replied, shouting that he loved her over his shoulder and scrambling out the door before she could get another word out or invent another reason for him to stay.

In truth, Harper was jealous of his wife's luck with landing a job as cushy as the one she had. As a drug rep with a big pharma company, periods of several days would go by with little work alternated with short bursts of frenzied activity or infrequent, boring seminars to make her an "expert" on new medications she was to start hawking. Ashley was uniquely suited to her job as a rep. The predominately male doctors she spent time with, whether in person or on the phone, tended to start prescribing her new pills.

The drive to work finished almost before Harper knew it. His mind had apparently wandered longer and further afield than he'd noticed. I probably shouldn't make a habit of that. At least I didn't get hit by anybody, he reflected as he pulled into an open spot near the entrance to his building.

It was a rare thing for Harper to get to park this close and he couldn't stop himself from whistling a little as he retrieved his briefcase from the backseat of the car and started into the building.

Scarcely after his briefcase hit the ground inside his cubicle, he heard a female voice call out his name behind him. Turning, he saw a vision of bronze skinned beauty in a short jacket, blouse, and long skirt, all in shades of black and charcoal. Black heels about four inches high thumped lightly on the cheap carpeting of the office floor with every step she made toward him. This was without a doubt Rakti Singh, the youngest and most beautiful of the office assistants that worked in Harper's office.

Harper had had to mentally upbraid himself multiple times for staring at Rakti. The young Indian woman was always dressed completely professionally, immaculately even. He'd never seen her with a skirt shorter than knee length and her normal attire was ordinarily a bit longer. No, it wasn't the type of clothing that caused him and others to stare, but the way it clung to her. Everything always fit her perfectly. That was the real problem. Whether she knew it or not, and Harper strongly suspected she did, she had a figure that made many women jealous beyond reason and most men hungry in a way that a good meal couldn't cure.

She stood as tall as Ashley, about 5'6" without heels, and always wore thick rimmed glasses in a color to match whatever outfit she was wearing. Her clothing was never loud or revealing and her breasts were among the smallest in the office. Gossipers around the water cooler had arrived at the conclusion that she had maybe full A cups; but it made no difference.

Slender shoulders, a tiny waist, and large hips with an ass to match. It was these things that had given her almost a cult following among the male employees of the office. What did small breasts matter with the rest of her body looked the way it did? And that strut...

Harper was certain wars had been started over less.

Rakti smiled at Harper as she came nearer. "Good morning, Harper," she said genially once she reached the entrance to his cubicle.

The sound of fabric whispering against her stockings continued to purr in his ears long after she came to a stop and the fragrance of sandalwood filled the air. "Good morning, Rakti," he managed weakly, his mouth suddenly dry.

"I know you just got in, but Mr. Stevens asked me to send you to him as soon as possible," she stated simply.

Mr. Stevens? This can't be good. "Did he happen to say what this was about?" he inquired.

Rakti shook her head. "Uh uh. Just asked for you." She hesitated, placed a comforting hand on Harper's arm then added, "Don't look like you just got the death penalty, Harper. I'm sure everything's fine."

Her touch was like an electric current running through his nerves and her stunning smile the sun itself.

Harper heard himself thanking her then watched as she walked away. Her hips readopted their casual, mesmerizing sway as she made her way back to her own desk and Harper openly gaped at it until she turned a corner.