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Other than for the request that two copies be signed onekept and one sent back to the N***** Corporation, it was in Japanese. Iinsisted I sign it. Kate was away. I ordered that nobody tell Kate, addingthat I did not have to consult her; it was she who had to consult me. Iowned the firm not Kate, I insisted for the umpteenth tedious time.Education. I had education. I am an intelligent girl. But education andintelligence do not preclude a moment of blind arrogant foolishness. Insigning that document I did the stupidest thing I had done in my whole life.I was to pay for that stupidity. I paid. And how!Kate was clever and subtle. Despite my objections she got me to go with herand the rest of our management board to meet our biggest customer in Tokyo,the N***** Corporation. I am not racist, but I had argued, against sensegiven our all but total dependence on the Japanese market, that I did notlike or trust the Japanese.My silly notions were based on tales I had been told of granny's fate. )Charlotte lightly chuckled, "I don't blame her. I'm about to go do that myself. I chose a bad day to wear a long sleeved shirt to work."I politely chuckled in response, and looked back at her. She was wearing a long sleeved green shirt that almost looked like a thin sweater, her massive breasts outlined perfectly by the fabric. Down below, a pair of tight black pants and brown slip on shoes. I briefly imagined working at Charlotte's office and getting to see her body lightly bouncing around every day. What a dream that would be.From where I was sitting, I could see she was visibly sweating on her forehead, some of her hair sticking to her face. I noticed she had some light pit stains on her shirt, as she awkwardly began to reach an arm behind herself. I quickly averted my eyes when I realized what she was doing: Charlotte was taking her bra off underneath her shirt.I side-eyed her as the clasp came undone and she pulled it down from underneath her shirt; the weight of her breasts,.
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