Sally Walker with Frances

A sharp little cackle answered Frances' request. "I'm hardly wearing anything, Frances." Sally Walker said.

Lil was shocked. Her manager was having an affair with the boss's wife?

Lil flashed on Sally's face with a broad sarcastic smile, staring at Ms. Addams, serious and intense, meeting Sally's stare with her own. Like tennis rivals. Or a policewoman staring down a defiant criminal. Lil kept her ear to the door, not wanting to miss a word.

Sally said, "Slowly? Aren't you afraid of getting caught by the new summer hires? Or is that what you wanted?"

Oh shit! Lil thought. Did they know she was here? Did they even care?

Ms. Addams huffed impatiently. "Fine, have it your way. Hands flat on my desk."

Sally's rubber soles squeaked on the diligently scrubbed old linoleum tiles.

"If you want a job done right..." Ms. Addams muttered. She grunted. "This is stuck. You're sweaty."

"You love a sweaty bitch," Sally said.

"In the locker room. Not on my desk," Frances groused.

Lil heard damp fabric being peeled from smooth skin. Her heart skipped a beat.

Sally said, "Gary's too busy. Bernie's mother is a professional exhibitionist. But try not to shock Lil, huh?"

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

Lil squeaked. What was going on?

"Yes," Sally growled. "Use me, Frances. Fuck yes. Use me. Ah!"

Lil felt hot and cold shivers. Had they heard her? She wanted to run away, but felt half-frozen. She wanted to stay and hear everything. She really wanted to watch.