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Jake thought I was concentrating on his typically long-winded explanation of why the Singapore office hadn't sent in their section of the Arnold proposal, but I wasn't. I was sitting there, rocking back and forward in my leather chair, with my back to the whole spread of the Baltimore Inner Harbor from my eighteenth-floor World Trade Center office and looking right past Jake, over his shoulder, and at what was happening out at the reception desk.

That new eye candy receptionist, Stephanie, was having her effect on the UPS guy. They had become quite chummy in the two weeks she'd worked here. Now he was perched on the counter across from her desk in his brown UPS uniform, baggy shorts and all. He was quite a looker himself. Blond with carefully curled and blown hair and the physique of a serious body builder. He was sitting on the edge of the counter and pulling his legs up with his hands below his knees. It was almost obscene. When he pulled his legs up you could follow the curve of his meaty thighs right up toward his crotch. And now he was pulling his legs apart. If I'd been closer, I know I could see right up to where it got really interesting. And he and Stephanie were just chatting away. It just wasn't natural the way he was showing leg, and it certainly shouldn't be going on in an office. Why, Stephanie might be getting a real eyeful.

Then it hit me. Of course she was getting an eyeful. That's exactly what the UPS guy—and she—wanted to be happening. And I couldn't help it; I ...

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