Monday morning

"Good Morning, Mr. Chandler," Meghan greets you as you arrive at work. "I'll go get your coffee right away." You nod a good morning to her and sit at your desk and start your computer. Your calendar has just come up when Meghan returns with your coffee. She's wearing all black today, a very tight skirt that ends just below her knees and a black buttoned top. She has her red hair in a bun with two black chopsticks piercing it, a pearl necklace around her throat.

"Did you have a good weekend Sir?" she smiles at you as she puts your coffee cup down.

"Yes thank you. How was yours?"

"It was busy Sir. Thank you again for giving me a ride home. I really appreciated it."

"No thanks necessary. Your roommate Elena took care of that."

She blushes furiously at your reply, biting her lip and looking down. "Yes sir. She asked me to thank you for an exciting evening," she says in a low quavering voice, glancing at you from under her lashes.

"That will be all for now, Meghan. You need to get back to work." She nods and you watch the sway of her ass as she leaves your office.

You settle in to work, but are interrupted a few minutes later by Meghan telling you that Jim Gavin is on line one.

"Jim, to what do I owe the pleasure?

"Good morning John. Sorry to do this, but I'm sending my daughter Eileen to see you this morning. Meghan's mother? There was a family dinner party last night and Eileen started on me about why Meghan hadn't been promoted and so on. I told her quite bluntly that Meghan was fortunate to have a job at all, that she was on probation until the end of this week, and that her continued employment was dependent on your opinion. Well, needless to say she wasn't happy about that. The long and short of it is that I said she could talk to you about the situation."

"I see."

"Let me be clear, John. I only did this to shut the blasted woman up so she didn't entirely ruin dinner. Eileen is a foolish woman with delusions of adequacy about herself and everything about her, including Meghan. Feel free to listen to her and send her on her way and do whatever you want. Or tell her to go to the devil, for that matter. You have my every confidence John, as always."

"Thanks Jim. When should I expect her."

"I told her ten, but I'd expect her to be late, she usually is. No self-discipline at all. Neither of my daughters have any. Sorry about this John."

"No apology necessary. I'll take care of it," you say, ending the call.

You call Meghan into your office. She responds quickly, and stands in front of your desk holding a notepad and a pen.

"I'm having a meeting at ten or a little after. Does your mother drink coffee or tea, or something else?"

"My mother, sir?" she looks confused.

"Yes, your mother. That's my meeting. Apparently she wants to talk about you and your future with the company. Don't pretend you didn't know about this."

"I didn't know, sir. Honestly, I didn't," she says with a quaver in her voice.

"Weren't you at dinner with your grandfather yesterday?"

"Yes sir."

"Your mother raised the issue of your employment, and why you haven't been promoted, with Mr. Gavin."

She looks stricken, her face trembling. "I didn't know, sir. I was a bit late. I didn't know about this. I'm sorry sir. I really wish she hadn't done that."

"So do I, Meghan. Go back to work." Pressing her lips together, she turns and leaves, glancing anxiously back over her shoulder at you.