Meeting Delgado

The next day, Meg left to the client's office with a sense of unease gnawing at her stomach. As she rode the elevator off the 37th floor, her mind kept drifting back to her encounter with James. His words echoed in her head, a seductive whisper that both thrilled and terrified her.

Today, Meg had chosen her most professional outfit - a tailored black pencil skirt that hugged her curves, ending just above her knees. Her crisp white blouse was tucked in neatly, the top two buttons left undone to reveal a hint of her collarbone. Over this, she wore a fitted blazer in deep burgundy, the rich color complementing her fair skin.

Her chestnut hair was styled in loose waves, reminiscent of old Hollywood glamour. It framed her heart-shaped face perfectly, drawing attention to her striking features. Her makeup was understated yet flawless - a light foundation that allowed her natural beauty to shine.

Meg stepped out of the Uber, her high heels clicking on the cracked sidewalk. The slums sprawled before her, a stark contrast to the gleaming skyscrapers she'd left behind. Dilapidated houses lined the street, their paint peeling and windows boarded up. The air was thick with the acrid smell of garbage and desperation.

She double-checked the address on her phone, hoping there had been some mistake. But no, this rundown bungalow with its overgrown lawn and sagging roof was indeed her destination. The wooden steps creaked ominously as she made her way to the front door, her designer briefcase feeling painfully out of place.

Meg raised her hand to knock, but hesitated. Something felt off. Her's manicured finger hovered over the doorbell, but before she could press it, a gust of wind caught the door and it creaked open slightly. The faint scent of mildew and something acrid wafted out. Hesitantly, she pushed the door wider, peering into the dimly lit interior.

"Hello?" she called out, her voice echoing in the silence. "Mr. Delgado? It's Megan Mason from the law firm."

No response came. Meg stepped inside, her stilettos sinking into the threadbare carpet. The living room was a disaster zone. Empty beer cans and pizza boxes littered every surface. A ratty couch sagged in the center, its stuffing spilling out of numerous tears. The walls, once white, were now a sickly yellow, stained by years of cigarette smoke.

As Meg's eyes adjusted to the gloom, she noticed movement in the far corner of the room. A figure stirred on a threadbare recliner, barely visible through the haze of cigarette smoke that hung in the air.

"Mr. Delgado?" Meg called out tentatively, taking a few steps closer.

The figure grunted in response, shifting to reveal Marcus Delgado - or what was left of him. Once a powerhouse in the business world, the man before her was a shell of his former self. His expensive suit hung loosely on his frame, wrinkled and stained. A week's worth of stubble covered his gaunt face, and his eyes were bloodshot and unfocused.

"Who the hell are you?" Delgado slurred, fumbling for a half-empty whiskey bottle on the floor beside him.

Meg swallowed hard,

Meg took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Mr. Delgado, I'm Megan Mason from McCarthy & Associates. I'm here to discuss your case."

Delgado's bloodshot eyes narrowed as he took another swig from the bottle. "Case? What's the point? We both know I'm going down for this."

Meg's professional facade wavered for a moment as she surveyed the squalor around her. This was a far cry from the opulent offices she was used to. But she steeled herself, knowing this could be her big break.

"Mr. Delgado, I understand you're feeling hopeless, but that's precisely why I'm here. Our firm believes we can build a strong defense for you."

She opened her briefcase, pulling out a neatly organized file. "I've reviewed the charges against you: insider trading, money laundering, embezzlement, fraud..."

As she listed his alleged crimes, Delgado's eyes roamed over her body lecherously. He interrupted her, slurring, "Your lips would look better wrapped around my dick than reciting that bullshit."

Meg paused, her jaw tightening. After a beat, she continued evenly, "And sexual harassment, of course, is among the allegations as well."

As she continued to lay out their legal strategy, she couldn't help but feel a sense of disgust and discomfort. Delgado's leering gaze made her skin crawl, and she had to fight the urge to flee from the room.

But this was her job, and she couldn't let one disgusting man ruin her opportunity for success. So she took a deep breath and pushed forward, determined to do her best for her client - no matter how difficult he may be.

"And here," Meg said, pointing to a specific document in the file, "we have evidence that could potentially discredit the prosecution's key witness."

Delgado snorted dismissively. "Good luck with that. They've got me dead to rights."

Meg shook her head. "Not necessarily. I have uncovered some discrepancies in the witness's statements that we believe could cast doubt on their credibility."

Meg pressed on, determined to maintain her professionalism despite Delgado's crude behavior. "Mr. Delgado, if you'll just look at these documents, I think you'll see we have a strong case for—"

"The only thing I need to see," Delgado slurred, leering at her, "is that tight ass of yours. How about you come sit on my lap and we can discuss my 'defense' more intimately?"

Meg felt her cheeks flush with anger and revulsion. She slammed the file shut, her patience finally snapping. "What is wrong with you?" she demanded. "I'm here trying to help you, and all you can do is make disgusting comments? Do you even realize the seriousness of your situation?"

She stood up, smoothing her skirt with trembling hands. "I need you to sign these representation papers so our firm can officially take on your case and begin building your defense. This is a serious situation that requires your full attention and cooperation."

Meg recoiled slightly as Delgado approached, his eyes roving lecherously over her body. She **** herself to remain still as he stumbled closer, the stench of whiskey and body odor growing stronger.

For the first time, Meg truly took in Delgado's disheveled appearance. His expensive suit hung loosely on his frame, stained and wrinkled beyond repair. A pronounced beer belly strained against the buttons of his shirt, threatening to pop them off. His thinning hair was greasy and unkempt, sticking up at odd angles.

As he reached for the pen, his grimy fingers brushed against hers. Meg suppressed a shudder of revulsion at the contact. Delgado's touch lingered far longer than necessary as he took the pen, a sleazy grin spreading across his unshaven face.

Delgado scrawled his signature sloppily across the page, leering at Meg the entire time. She snatched the papers back as soon as he finished, **** to put distance between them.

Meg's eyes widen in shock as she notices the unmistakable bulge in his pants. She quickly looks away and grabs the paper, trying to focus on anything else. But he leans in close, invading her personal space with a cocky smirk on his face, daring her.

"I did as you asked," he says huskily, "Now it's your turn to help me." His sharp words send a jolt of electricity through her body, making her heart race and her skin tingle. "Get on your knees and suck it."

Meg quickly gathered her papers and briefcase, averting her eyes. "Thank you for signing, Mr. Delgado. I'll be in touch with any updates on your case." She turned and strode purposefully toward the door, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere.

As she reached for the doorknob, Delgado called out, "Hey sweetheart, aren't you forgetting something?"

Meg paused, her hand on the door. "No, I don't believe so. We're done here."

"I don't think we are," Delgado replied, his tone menacing. "Come back anytime…"

Meg's stomach churned. She opened the door, **** to leave. "Good day, Mr. Delgado."

She hurried out, slamming the door behind her.