divorces, from affairs as well as marriages, could take unexpected bitter turns.
The elevator arrived on their floor and the doors rumbled open, admitting a press of warm air from the hall.
A vision of the countless street people she passed every day invaded Allie’s mind. The ones the rest of the human race avoided thinking about, even avoided seeing, with a convenient selective blindness. She might become one of them. Sam had it in his power to do that to her. A Svengali in jogging shoes. That was what really ate at her, the knowledge that he
could
do it.
Absurd! she told herself. I’m self-supporting and every bit as capable as Sam. My life’s in my own hands.
Hedra stopped halfway down the hall and stared incredulously at Allie. “Sam wouldn’t really turn you in to the management company, would he?”
“I don’t know,” Allie said. “A month ago I wouldn’t have thought so, but he’s hall of surprises. All men seem to be full of surprises.”
“Not to me.”
Allie smiled. “I know what you mean, Hedra.”
But she didn’t.
In the apartment, the phone rang and Allie absently answered it, still thinking about Sam.
“Allie?” A man’s voice. Not Sam’s.
“Yes?” There was only silence on the line. “Hello?”
A steady buzzing erupted in her ear. Whoever was on the other end of the connection had hung up.
Chapter 12
AT Fortune Fashions, Mayfair sat at his wide desk, before his IBM computer, and went through the routine taught to him by Allie Jones. His fingers pecked at the gray keys with dexterity now, sure of themselves. She’d done an excellent job of setting up the programs. Inventory, payroll, graphics for sales and manufacturing projections, all reduced to relatively simple commands. She was about fifty percent through the project, she’d told Mayfair. Which meant it was time for him to do what he’d intended from the first moment he’d seen Allie Jones. And why not? You were vice president of a company like this, certain perks were implied.
Allie had too much time invested to give up the Fortune Fashions account now, and she stood to lose too much money. Without a doubt she’d be vulnerable to pressure. And she’d recently broken up with whatever guy had been balling her; Sam something, he thought she’d called him. So Mayfair figured she was ripe enough to fall. Ah, timing was so important in life.
Not that he’d explain the facts to her in such crude terms. He was too practiced for that. But in varied and subtle ways, Mayfair would let her know that now
he
had enough knowledge to call some other programmer in to finish what Allie had started. Even his secretary Elaine must be getting proficient with a computer by now. The basic software systems were on line, so no problem there. Allie had gotten a small amount of money up front. Gradually, over a week or so, he’d make it clear that if she wanted to finish the Fortune Fashions job and see her big payday, he, Mayfair, was part of the arrangement. It wasn’t so unusual; she’d probably done some job-related screwing before. Part of landing accounts, he was sure, a piece of the deal from the beginning, or there wouldn’t have been a deal. An attractive woman didn’t need a computer to figure that one out. Let’s face it, software was software.
The door to the anteroom swung open, allowing traffic noises from the street ten stories below to infiltrate Mayfair’s plush and virtually soundproof office. The thick carpet and drapes, the flocked wallpaper and deeply upholstered furniture, seemed even to absorb sound produced from within the office.
Elaine, tall and gaunt as a model, dressed in a Fashion Fortunes fall outfit, swished in and gave a perfunctory nod to Mayfair. They had run through a hot and frantic affair five years ago, but they seldom talked about it now. At the time, Elaine had known sleeping with him was a prerequisite for employment. Somewhat the same dilemma that would now face Allie.
Elaine had
The elevator arrived on their floor and the doors rumbled open, admitting a press of warm air from the hall.
A vision of the countless street people she passed every day invaded Allie’s mind. The ones the rest of the human race avoided thinking about, even avoided seeing, with a convenient selective blindness. She might become one of them. Sam had it in his power to do that to her. A Svengali in jogging shoes. That was what really ate at her, the knowledge that he
could
do it.
Absurd! she told herself. I’m self-supporting and every bit as capable as Sam. My life’s in my own hands.
Hedra stopped halfway down the hall and stared incredulously at Allie. “Sam wouldn’t really turn you in to the management company, would he?”
“I don’t know,” Allie said. “A month ago I wouldn’t have thought so, but he’s hall of surprises. All men seem to be full of surprises.”
“Not to me.”
Allie smiled. “I know what you mean, Hedra.”
But she didn’t.
In the apartment, the phone rang and Allie absently answered it, still thinking about Sam.
“Allie?” A man’s voice. Not Sam’s.
“Yes?” There was only silence on the line. “Hello?”
A steady buzzing erupted in her ear. Whoever was on the other end of the connection had hung up.
Chapter 12
AT Fortune Fashions, Mayfair sat at his wide desk, before his IBM computer, and went through the routine taught to him by Allie Jones. His fingers pecked at the gray keys with dexterity now, sure of themselves. She’d done an excellent job of setting up the programs. Inventory, payroll, graphics for sales and manufacturing projections, all reduced to relatively simple commands. She was about fifty percent through the project, she’d told Mayfair. Which meant it was time for him to do what he’d intended from the first moment he’d seen Allie Jones. And why not? You were vice president of a company like this, certain perks were implied.
Allie had too much time invested to give up the Fortune Fashions account now, and she stood to lose too much money. Without a doubt she’d be vulnerable to pressure. And she’d recently broken up with whatever guy had been balling her; Sam something, he thought she’d called him. So Mayfair figured she was ripe enough to fall. Ah, timing was so important in life.
Not that he’d explain the facts to her in such crude terms. He was too practiced for that. But in varied and subtle ways, Mayfair would let her know that now
he
had enough knowledge to call some other programmer in to finish what Allie had started. Even his secretary Elaine must be getting proficient with a computer by now. The basic software systems were on line, so no problem there. Allie had gotten a small amount of money up front. Gradually, over a week or so, he’d make it clear that if she wanted to finish the Fortune Fashions job and see her big payday, he, Mayfair, was part of the arrangement. It wasn’t so unusual; she’d probably done some job-related screwing before. Part of landing accounts, he was sure, a piece of the deal from the beginning, or there wouldn’t have been a deal. An attractive woman didn’t need a computer to figure that one out. Let’s face it, software was software.
The door to the anteroom swung open, allowing traffic noises from the street ten stories below to infiltrate Mayfair’s plush and virtually soundproof office. The thick carpet and drapes, the flocked wallpaper and deeply upholstered furniture, seemed even to absorb sound produced from within the office.
Elaine, tall and gaunt as a model, dressed in a Fashion Fortunes fall outfit, swished in and gave a perfunctory nod to Mayfair. They had run through a hot and frantic affair five years ago, but they seldom talked about it now. At the time, Elaine had known sleeping with him was a prerequisite for employment. Somewhat the same dilemma that would now face Allie.
Elaine had
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