Removing the pins from her thick auburn hair, she allowed it to tumble down her back in wild abandon. She realized that the vision that she made, with...the black lace only accentuating her smooth, pale skin, the high breasts that were nearly overflowing the top of the corset and the pretty triangle of soft red curls which adorned the juncture between the black silk covered thighs would be one that most of her customers would relish. But to herself, she looked like what she was. A whore. A. She crossed her arms. “Look. I said I'm not interested. Save yourself some embarrassment and stop asking—it's not going to happen.”The smile fell from Tim's face. “Give a guy a break. I know I'm not one of those douches in suits from Marketing, but—”Struck dumb by his continued bravado, Marguerite could only stare. “No, you're not. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get back to work.”His reply was clipped. “Of course.” As the door closed behind him, Marguerite wondered where someone so. More

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