She was about my age, maybe two or three years older.She was about my age, maybe two or three years older. Short light-brown hair. A white blouse with ruffles down the front, primly buttoned to the collar, enclosed what seemed to be a nice pair of boobs. With contacts, or maybe a less librarian-ish pair of glasses, I decided, she wouldn't be bad looking at all. I said hello and sat down. We made small talk until the waitress had taken our orders, and then I asked Cheryl what she wanted to see me about. She said that she'd been working late the night before, doing some month-end work, and her computer had started to act up, so she had gone over to my desk to use mine. Not wanting to damage any of my files, she had looked to see what was stored on my computer's disk, and had noticed that some of the file names didn't seem to have anything to do with the jobs I was working on. In particular, she said, she'd been surprised to find "these"; she pulled a manila envelope out of her purse, opened it, and slid out half a dozen sets of pages stapled together. |