walked myself around to stand in front of the dairy case to cool down after my brain served up scenes of Mr. Stone naked with his thick cock sticking out in front of him. It was ridiculous and frustrating and hot and stupid all at once. I felt hot and stupid and by the time I was home in the late afternoon I'd decided I'd tell him the truth. I'd dress as sexy-as-hell, walk into his office without asking and tell him where I was from and why. It was some sort of plan, right?
I arrived at the office the next day dressed in red heels, a black skirt, white blouse and black cardigan. It doesn't sound like much but with the support bra underneath and just a touch of make-up, I was babin'. The dark mahogany doors to Mr. Stone's office were closed so I sat down turned on my computer, pretending this was just some other day. Was he on the other side behind that giant desk of his? Would be call me in? I saw Mr. Stone's name in my email and smiled but it was a straight work request: pull all the contracts and correspondence for BSU between January and March of last year. BSU? Where did I know that name from again? Oh, right - Mr. Stone asked me questions about their stock prices and then told me something about them admitting their solar technology wasn't as good as they claimed. Then that night he took me to dinner ... and home ... and then I stood in front of his fire ... No! I squeezed my eyes shut and turned shook myself like a puppy getting out a bath. I couldn't let myself get caught up in thinking about Mr. Stone or I'd just end up sitting here all hot and bothered and what if he called me in then? Ms. Green, the phantom HR manager who I never saw , had taught me to use the records system but back then I'd only had surface access. Now I had full access - or as Mr. Stone had told me: you're going to be given access to our systems as though you were me. I opened the records program, relieved to find that now I had a new task, Mr. Stone was the last thing on my mind. Every few hours I'd get a new email from Mr. Stone and the work started piling up. Find all the emails between one subsidiary company and another and highlight every mention of the word "integral process". Advise how many millions of Great British Pounds were purchased by Stone-Black as a currency fluctuation hedge over the last six years, broken down by month. As I dived deep into the world of contracts and data, the size and complexity of Stone-Black became apparent to me. I'd seen the organizational chart given out to all new employees but it was just a few boxes and lines. Stone-Black was more like a web and just when I thought I had started to get a grip on it, I'd receive another email and find new layers on layers. I was so absorbed in my task that I didn't realize I'd read Bedford and Stone Pharma until I was halfway through a stack of emails. I was highlighting all correspondence from an employee named Andrew Panno who was one of the in-house legal counsel ten years ago. I slowed down and went back over what I'd found. Mr. Panno was requesting information about the value of research being conducted at Stone Pharma at the time of the fire that had destroyed the building. They'd been compensated for the building and the materials inside but it appeared the insurance agency had fought until the bitter end on the value of research that hadn't yet been published or used. The gist of his emails was that now they had commercialized the research and found it to be worth at least half-a-billion a year that it was time to go back to the insurance company for more money. He was arguing it out with a manager at Stone Corporation who was telling him it wasn't worth the time and effort "just for a few million". I went through all the records in this file desperate to find more information but there wasn't much more. They'd argued about it for a few more emails a nd then there was nothing else apart from a few thousand old emails that had corrupted and were