It had been a regular day at the office, until Jack picked up the phone to answer an internal call.
It was Karla, his boss.
“Jack, I need you in my office. I need to discuss something that’s come up in a performance review.” She smiled to herself.
A few moments later, Jack arrived. He was trying his best not to show the confusion he was feeling. He was confident – as close to certain as he could be – that there were no issues with his performance. Indeed, Karla had thanked him several times for the work he’d been putting in.
She made him wait a second, fixing her eyes on his, then with a slight touch of cruelty, quietly told him, “There’s no review. I just want one of your foot massages.”
A relieved Jack smiled; a sort of half smile, half snigger. He knew something was up.
“Alright then,” he said. “You want one here, now?”
“Would I have called you in otherwise?” Karla snapped playfully.
“I guess not,” Jack replied as he strode purposefully towards her. As he did so, Karla whipped her feet out of her shoes, and placed them on top of her desk, leaning back into her chair and wiggling her toes suggestively.