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Subject: {ASSM} Perfect Applicant part2 (Ff-setup)
Date: Fri, 15 Jun 2001 23:10:03 -0400
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The Perfect Applicant Part 2

                                   (This part has no sex, which I
despise. I'll be sure and overcompensate in part 3.)

                            Again, your comments (good and bad)
are what make me write. Archaic@hotmail.com

The morning crept up on Jennifer Grey, first articulating itself
only as a sliver of light probing lightly between her curtains.
As the hour crept closer and closer towards 8 a.m. however, the
fabric between her sleeping form and the insisting day may as
well have been tissue. Jennifer turned once, turned twice, and
turned again, still not comprehending the sun's purpose in
intruding on her coveted slumber. Not comprehending, that is,
until the phone rang.

"Oh! Oh God." This wouldn't do. She snatched the receiver from
its mount, and in an instant composed herself utterly; when she
spoke her obligatory greetings, her voice had eschewed all
suggestions of slumber. Still...

"Ms. Grey. We didn't wake you, did we? I do hope not.
Occasionally our hours of operation throw even our more seasoned
employees off the clock, and I haven't even a watch on today."
The voice was unfamiliar, and a quick glance at the caller ID
panel disclosed nothing: 'OUT OF AREA.' But Jennifer had seen to
it that nobody else knew this number.

"No ma'am. It's a perfectly regular hour. Ah...I was just under
the impression that I was expected at six-thirty?"

There was a cheerful giggle. Definitely not Ms. Taxton. "Mrs.
Grey, I'm calling on behalf of the HSA to confirm your
appointment with us today. Ms. Taxton did mention the schedule; I
just wanted to give you plenty of time to prepare. The dress code
was covered with you yesterday?"

It hadn't been. Jennifer's mind raced, quickly attempting to
re-establish her character, her mannerisms so as to be consistent
with her performance at the interview. Acquiescence, not
assertion, was the key. "No ma'am. I presumed...businesscasual?"

"Slightly more. We here at HSA pursue a lofty clientelle, Mrs.
Grey. If I may suggest...?"

Jennifer smirked to herself. My agency has a few codes of it's
own, girl. You might as well be filling evidence bags for me.
"Please. I'm at a loss."

"Our attire is designed to compel, to sell, and to intimidate,
Ms. Grey. Stick with neutral colors at first. I suggest a
charcoal suit, skirt of an attractive but daring cut, a blazer
that can be discarded without ruining the outfit, pantyhose of
course (gray would be preferable to beige with that color) and
sensible, patent leather heels." She closed at the end with a
tone was better left to the reading of a shopping list. "I have
much to do now. I must be going. Good day, Ms. Grey."

Jennifer still held the receiver. Her mouth was open. I've just
been told what shade of hosiery to wear. Still, the woman had
qualified the comment as a suggestion. If there was anything to
this HSA assignment, they were no strangers to covering their
backs. She hung the phone up, and, smirking, picked up the other,
a black cell that was no bigger than her palm, before dialing.
"Hunts, Jennifer M." A pause, and then, "6-R-7-Y-B. Good. Thank
you. Hello, sir. Yes. Tell me, what sort of cash flow was I
allotted for this assignment?"

The large hand of her watch inched ever nearer the twelve, while
the short one rested uncomfortably atop the seven. Shit.
Jennifer's heels clicked quickly as she trotted up the stairs,
occasionally dropping an anxious hand to tug at her too-short
skirt. Shit, I'm late.

The day had been spent enjoyably, after business with the Agency
was out of the way. She had, she'd discovered, a federally
sanctioned budget of $10,000 with which to pursue the operation.
As she'd never had staff, and as most of her missions involved
less...subtle investigation, the sum had been entirely a mystery
to her.

No longer. The exceptional suit which she wore so closely matched
the one described that morning that it might as well have been
tailored by her caller. The skirt was the best: colored nearly
black, it was cut just above her gray stockinged knees. It made
her feel sexy and confident, but as she rushed up the stairs
towards HSA's sterile glass-laden entry way, self-consciousness
tempered her good feelings. I mustn't forget why I'm here.

The building was huge, pristine, and would have appeared vacant,
if Jennifer did not know better. HSA ran around the clock, she
had been told, stacking shifts differently as the need arose.
Hence, it was explained, their inclination towards unmarried
employees.

The glass doors parted with a whisper, and Jennifer slowed to
compose herself. With a deep intake of breath, she stepped across
the threshold, last week's instructions cradled carefully in her
memory: "Mrs. Hunt, your purpose there will be neither presume
guilt nor innocence. HSA is either squeaky clean...or it's the
most meticulously shrouded illegality in New York. Either way, we
don't expect your stay there to be a short one." With another
whisper, the doors sealed themselves behind her.

The entry was large and forbidding, consisting mostly of marble.
Columns paralleled the walls, and, at this late hour, succeeded
at casting sufficient shadow across the room that Jennifer did
not see the other woman until she spoke.

"Ms. Grey." It was not a question.

"Um. Yes. It's me." Jennifer approached and held out her hand in
introduction.

"My name is Caroline Holcomb." She seemed to appraise Jennifer,
and did not take her hand until her eyes had had their fill. When
they shook, Jennifer wondered if she'd ever felt anything so soft
as the other woman's hand. It was as though it had just been
doused in powder. "I will show you the way to the main office,
where we can get started."

She turned on her heel (a very high heel, she noted: nearly four
inches) and Jennifer followed her to the elevator at the hall's
end. But when the door opened with a soft ring, she merely
stepped to the side, and gestured.

"Aren't you coming?" Jennifer asked, puzzled.

There was a pause, and again Caroline roamed the new arrival with
her eyes. "I like your suit, Ms. Grey. And no, I cannot accompany
you. I've been assigned to other duties."

"Then someone will meet me up top?" Jennifer was feeling a little
odd, suddenly, and didn't want to go upstairs alone.

A strange light ran across Caroline's features...of
interest...or...anticipation? "No." She smiled. "Things run
pretty smoothly here, Ms. Grey. You'll find that your office has
been duly prepared."

Jennifer nodded, and with a slight shake of her head to clear her
nerves, stepped aboard.

Caroline watched the doors close, and then carefully withdrew a
cleansing rag from her own blazer before proceeding to scrub her
hands. Where she wiped, there came away a beige powder. I've
gotten you for her, pretty girl, she thought as she examined the
rag's new tint against the light. I had no choice, but I've
gotten you. She dropped the rag in the waste basket as she walked
away. Out damned spot.


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