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It was an obvious pretext, but I was glad she had found the flimsy excuse to call. Things were proceeding between us even faster than I’d thought they might. Suddenly I forgot all about my vow to not touch her, and all I wanted to do was fabricate my own excuse to do just that.

“I can tell you, but it would be better to discuss matters of finances in person. So, come have a drink. With me, I mean.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Where should I meet her?”

I had wanted her to come over but even I wasn’t brash enough to suggest that to the brand-new hire. Some place else would have to do. But at least I would be seeing her again already.

“Meet me at the Brass Beagle at nine,” I instructed her. Then, to make at least a small attempt at needing a plausible reason to meet, added, “and bring the receipt.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Now it was time to get ready.

Clear as the morning, the record turned, without a pop to be heard. The subtle brilliance of John Fahey filled my living room, just loud enough to be heard wherever I was in the house as I walked around getting ready.

This was one of the advantages to having a town house, particularly one that was staggered like mine was. I was grateful for my high salary even though I knew I earned it by producing great records for the label.

Seth paid above the industry rate, but such was his way. He could afford to pay me the money and I did my best to earn it.

I was making myself dinner, so I’d have something in my stomach when I met Claudia for a drink, and I had to remind myself to pay attention to what I was cooking, since I was so lost in thought again.

The words “don’t burn it” flashed in my head in neon letters, not quite as bright as the flame, the gas and grind going down in spades. Bit by bit it became more than the sum of its parts. And finally, my food was ready.

Once my stomach was properly full and I had changed into clothes appropriate for a bar instead of for work, I went back again out into the night. I had no idea what the future might hold, but I knew that Claudia had liked me enough to find a reason to call me after hours, and that she had agreed to meet me in a bar.

All signs pointed to Claudia being my new pet, but I would have to convince her to make it a reality.

Chapter Three – Claudia

I couldn’t believe Sven had told me to meet him tonight… and at a bar, no less!

Even though it was work-related, I was going to count it as a date.

But that created a challenge for the ages.

How could I fashion a date-appropriate outfit from a wardrobe of work and exercise clothes?

Shifting the pieces that were hanging in my closet around hadn’t helped me arrive at any great insights, so I was trying once more, when I was interrupted by someone who was at the door of my bedroom.

The knocks could have been an answer from the heavens, considering how hard I was praying.

“Are you okay?” my friend and roommate Gen inquired, in her sexy French way.

“Yes, I just can’t decide what to wear on my date. At least I think it’s a date. Or, I’m calling it a date, anyway.”

“That is a pickle,” Gen agreed. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Someone from work, kinda. We work in different buildings, but the same guy signs our paychecks.”

“Oh, is he a musician?”

“No, a recording engineer. He works closely with musicians, though.”

“How would you describe his style?”

“Minimalist chic, classy and traditional, but not complex or overly fancy.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Gen returned in record time and once she was in my bedroom, I saw that she had truly found the perfect outfit for me to wear tonight: pitch black Doc Martens, a form-hugging black blouse with ruffles cuffing the short-sleeves, and a deep gray pleated skirt in soft suede.

“Wow, thanks so much!” I gushed, glad to have such a stylish roommate.

“No problem. I know it’s a bit short. But trust me, you can pull it off.”

“What about when I need to sit down?”

“Knees together, legs crossed, cherie.”

It was like I was looking at someone else. The clothes were doing some wonderful things for my figure.

I never thought I looked like much, just a little short and a lot curvy. But the fabric sculpted and hugged, exposed and concealed me in all the right ways, showing just enough skin to be enticing and accentuating my good areas, like my hips and boobs.

“Hey,” she said, starting on my hair, doing a very elaborate braid. “Sit still. This is very important work I’m doing here.”

I couldn’t disagree. If ever I had chance of winning Sven’s affections, it would be tonight. Not just from the clothes but also from the confidence they imbued.

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