Rodney finds Gwen that night...

That evening, Gwen was out for a romantic candlelit dinner with her fiance Brody at a nice restaurant downtown. The redhead had traded her workday skirt and blouse for a little strapless cocktail dress which didn't require the use of a bra (she had also decided to go without panties in a flirty and out-of-character decision before he picked her up), accentuated by glittering earrings and a tiny gold cross on a chain nestled against her ample cleavage.

They were celebrating having picked up her wedding dress just before dinner, which sat in a box next to the table and which she intended to try on for fit over the weekend. It was during the salad course that Gwen mentioned that she was thinking about getting back into modelling, of which she had done a little as a teenager before she developed her astounding DD breasts and her father decided she wasn't likely to get much wholesome work anymore. For his part, Brody seemed ****, especially when his bride-to-be brought up her boss again to bolster her argument.

"Mr. Dexler said he used to dabble in photography, and he said that I shouldn't feel ashamed of my body," Gwen insisted. "He said he personally knows where busty young white women like me are in high demand."

"I don't know, this guy seems like a pervert," Brody cautioned. "He takes an unhealthy interest in you physically."

"He's just helping me get to the next stage," Gwen assured him. "He wants to help me be more than a secretary, and boosting my self-esteem is part of it. He's supportive of me trying new things, but your jealousy just holds me back."

"Okay, I'm sorry," Brody said, slumping his shoulders. He still felt that he was right, but he felt so lucky to be with Gwen that he just always wanted to do whatever made her happy, and sure enough he could see her self-satisfied smirk of victory as she sipped her drink. They weren't even married yet and Brody had already lost any semblence of control in the relationship.

Just then there was the sound of a commotion from the reception area, where a large middle-aged black man suddenly burst into the dining room. The other patrons looked on in surprise and irritation approached the wide-eyed Gwen and Brody, stumbling and lurching slightly as though intoxicated.

"Mr. Dexler, what are you doing here?" Gwen gasped, looking up at her boss as he towered over the table. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, you mentioned that you'd be here," Rodney slurred slightly, glancing down the front of her dress and her impressive cleavage without much subtlety. "There are some very important, crazy fuckin' niggas in town tonight, and I need you to come with me to see them." His voice was a little too loud, carrying throughout the restaurant and attracting further attention to the scene.

"Uh, we're having dinner..." Brody started to say softly, embarrassed. "It's a special night for us, she has her wedding dress here and..."

"Yeah, yeah, that's cool, she can bring it with, they are very important contacts for Gwen to meet if she wants to assume a brand new position..." Rodney asserted confidently, taking Gwen's arm and pulling her up and out of her seat. "They can teach her alot about the modelling world, too."

Gwen was **** to leave, but Rodney was being so insistent and making such a scene, while Brody seemed so polite and deferential that he would just stand back and watch if the big ex-football player simply slung his bride-to-be over his shoulder and marched out of the building. As it was, Rodney took the pretty redhead just managed to grab the box containing the wedding dress to ensure it wasn't lost before Rodney took her by the hand and led her away from the table. Brody, half-rising from his seat, called her name mournfully, as if knowing he was about to lose her forever.

"Bye, Brody," was all his dream girl could say as they disappeared. Outside, Rodney put Gwen into his sports car before getting behind the wheel and tearing off into the seedier part of downtown. He was driving aggressively, and Gwen just hoped he wasn't drunk and that they wouldn't crash. She was intrigued to see where he was taking her and what sort of lessons she could expect, but Rodney wasn't talking and she didn't think it was a good idea to distract him.

Soon they arrived at a big old house surrounded by a fence just on the edge of the local ghetto. The gate opened and Rodney drove them inside, parking in front of the house. The sound of gangsta rap wafted in on the wind from the distance as Rodney half-helped, half-pulled Gwen from her seat. A minute later, the black man escorted his wary young secretary through the front door and into the house, wedding dress package still in tow.