It was a constant psychological effort to keep her hands by her side as Abby lay naked on a conference room table. She wondered if her clothes were still somewhere on the floor or if she’d have to walk around naked after lunch, looking for them, carrying her melons like two stacks of confidential documents. How could she have let things get so out of hand?
“Any questions so far?” Bill asked, his hand on the nape of the new girl he had shown around the office. He had penetrated the veil of her shoulder-length, light brown hair so casually that Abby had been too shy to shy away. Simply hunching did not get the message across.
“I’m OK so far,” she stuttered, convincing herself that maybe she was the one who needed to adapt to typical, friendly, office touching. If Bill thought two minutes was an appropriate amount of time to painstakingly apply a nametag sticker on her left breast, who was she to judge the head of Human Resources on her first day.