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He did have one excellent thing to do today - saving it until now, three in
the afternoon. He had used the dice already, played a bit of Horsemen, just to
help him make a personnel decision.
He had called Sarah Middleton just before lunch and told her they needed to
have a chat and could she stop by his office, say at three?
Sarah was obviously tense on the phone and told him she could do it earlier,
anytime, at his convenience. Not busy then, nothing much to do today? Shafer
asked. Three o clock would be fine, she answered hastily.
His secretary, the bestial Betty formerly from Belgravia, buzzed him promptly
at three. At least he d finally got through to her about punctuality.
Shafer let her buzz him several times, then picked up the phone abruptly, as
if she d interrupted him at something vital to security.
What is it, Ms Thomas? I m extremely busy with this communique for the
Secretary.
I m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Shafer, but Ms. Middleton is here. You have a
three o clock appoinI ment with her, I understand.
Hmmm. Do I? Yes, you re right. Can you ask Sarah to wait? I ll need a few
more minutes. I ll buzz when I m ready to see her.
Shafer smiled contentedly and picked up a copy of The Red Coat, the embassy
employee newsletter. He knew Betty hated it when he used Ms. Middleton s
Christian name. Sarah.
He fantasized about Sarah for the next few moments. He d wanted to have a go
at Mzzz Middleton from their first interview, but he was too careful for
that. God, he hated the bitch. This was going to be such fun.
He watched the rain hammer down on the traffic crossing Massachusetts Avenue
for another ten minutes. Finally Shafer snatched up the phone. He couldn t
wait a minute longer. I ll see her now. Send Sarah in.
He fingered his twenty-sided dice. This could be fun, actually. Terror at the
office.
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Chapter Seventeen
The lovely Sarah Middleton entered his office and managed a cordial look,
almost a smile. He felt like a boa constrictor eyeing a mouse.
She had naturally curly red hair, a moderately pretty face, a superior
figure. Today she wore a very short suit, red V-necked silk blouse, black
stockings. It was obvious to Shafer that she was out to catch a husband in
Washington.
Shafer s pulse was beating hard. He was aroused by her, always had been. He
thought about taking her, and very much liked that phrase. She didn t look as
nervous and unsure of herself as she had recently, so that probably meant she
was really scared and trying not to show it. He tried his best to think like
Sarah. That made it more fun, though he found it a real challenge to be as
squirrely and insecure as she would surely be.
We certainly needed the rain, Sarah said, and then cringed before the
sentence was even finished.
Sarah, please sit down . he said. He was trying to keep a straight business
face. Personally, I loathe the rain. It s one of the many reasons I ve never
been stationed in London.
He sighed theatrically behind the rigid tent he d made with his fingers. He
wondered if Sarah noticed the length of his fingers and wondered how large he
was elsewhere. He would bet anything that she did. It was how people s minds
worked, though women like Sarah would never admit it.
She cleared her throat, then put her hands on her knees. The knuckles of her
fingers were white. Christ, he was enjoying her obvious discomfort. She looked
ready to jump out of her skin. How about out of her tight little skirt and
blouse?
He began to stretch the fingers on his right hand, playing his part as
dominator to the hilt. Sarah, I think I have some bad news, quite unfortunate
really, but can t be avoided.
She sat nervously forward in her chair. She really was nicely built up
top. He was getting hard now. What is it, Mr. Shafer? What do you mean? You
think you have bad news? You do or you don t?
We have to let you go. I have to let you go. Budget cuts, I m afraid, he
said. I know you must find this immensely unfair, and unexpected as
well. Particularly when you moved halfway across the world from Australia to
take this job, and you ve been living in Washington for less than six
months. Suddenly, the ax falls.
He could tell she was actually fighting back tears. Her lips were
trembling. Obviously she hadn t expected this. She had no idea. She was a
reasonably smart and controlled woman, but she couldn t help herself now.
Excellent. He had succeeded in breaking her down. He wished he had a video
camera this minute to record the look on her face and play it back countless
times in private.
He saw the very instant that she lost it, and treasured it. He watched her
eyes moisten, saw the large tears roll over her cheeks, streaking her
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working-girl makeup.
He felt the power and it was as good as he d hoped it would be. A small,
insignificant game certainly, but a delicious one. He loved being able to
instill such shock and pain.
Poor Sarah. Poor, poor dear, he murmured.
Then Shafer did the cruelest, most unforgivable thing. Also the most [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
