Saturday Professional

Whitney slumped against the side of the elevator for several long seconds and a few floors. Grumbling at her headache, she regretted not taking any aspirin before leaving the mansion. Actually, she regretted those final tequila shots last night. Damn Katie and her need to wallow away her fucked up love life with liquor. Now, I’m hungover and didn’t even get fucked. Aargh! Fucking volleyball drama.

Glancing at the floor indicator, the blonde heiress stood straight again, checking her reflection in the polished bronze wall. As per her usual training days at Diamond Corp over the past month, Whitney went all out with sexy yet classy attire. Today’s outfit featured a modern yet elegant and vintage suit set. The chic tweed set consisted of a light gold-and-black plaid blazer. A collarless jacket, it had black accents along all the edges to go with a pair of black contrast panels near the single button connected at her toned midriff. Underneath, a simple black tank top rested, and the outfit featured a matching pencil skirt that stopped three inches above her knees. A pair of black high heels finished off the look.

DING

Strutting off the elevator onto the executive floor as if she owned the place, Whitney did, in fact, own a significant share of the privately held company. The trust set up by her great-grandmother issued half the shares on her eighteenth birthday, with the final half received upon her college graduation. Expecting this to be her work home relatively soon after college, the click-clack of her heels echoed around the silent, empty top floor. Still, turning the corner, the blonde halted momentarily before resuming.

“Good morning, Ms. Oaks. I didn’t expect to find you here on yet another Saturday. Doesn’t Dalton ever give you a day off?” Whitney greeted the executive secretary to the CEO of Diamond Corp.

A fifty-two-year-old with neck-length, dark-brown hair, gray eyes, large breasts, and a round ass, Florence Oaks had worked at DC for over three decades. A mother of three, she could be kind at times, stubborn in the face of threats, and giggly at Harvey Diamond's smooth flirting. Those traits served her well as the gatekeeper to Dalton Pierce.

“I’m here whenever Mr. Pierce has vital work to conduct,” the seemingly all-knowing secretary declared before cracking a smile. “What’s with this Ms. Oaks stuff, girl? I’ve known you your whole life. Chased you down these halls when you took off speed-crawling.”

“I’m sorry, Florence. I just wanted to be professional,” Whitney responded, nearly grinning before realizing another reason why she should apologize. “Oh, crap! I’m so sorry. You’re here because of me. You should be at home with your family.”

“The kids are all graduated and already have their own post-college lives. Now, I do have the most adorable new pictures of my first grandchild to show you later,” Florence teased before turning more somber. “But these training sessions mean the world to you and Dalton. As you're practically one of my work children, I’ll remind you yet again. Ask me about anything, and take this seriously. Dalton is willing to give his limited time to see you become his successor someday. That would…It’s a day I know he would’ve cherished to see someday.”

Noticing those gray eyes glisten, Whitney stepped forward to hug the woman who had always treated her kindly. She knew Florence had taken the fatal cancer diagnosis just as poorly as her father and uncle had. The woman definitely spent more of her life with Dalton than anyone else. Whitney didn’t even have to ask if she’d been told, as part of the very limited group who knew how many months Dalton had left. Florence knew about the inoperable cancer far earlier than anyone else outside of Dalton’s wife and daughter.

“I cherish every day I have with Uncle Dalton, teaching me the ropes. I’ll try my hardest never to let him down,” Whitney declared, fighting back tears. “Just please tell me I’m not touring maintenance for a second straight day.”

“I heard all about the complaints when I walked in on Thursday morning. Did you know that your father called to whine about your whining?” Florence asked, referring to the shorter afterschool session she attended on Wednesdays.

“That sounds like Dad and Dalton. He always runs off crying to his surrogate big brother,” Whitney quipped. “But seriously, I’m not doing a part two with Mr. Yegge again, am I? Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice enough man, but maintenance?”

“You will learn every facet of the company, Whitney. Starting from the vital infrastructure that makes this company live,” Florence declared, mimicking her boss, which caused Whitney to giggle. She did even more so when she saw the CEO standing in his office doorway, shaking his head at them.

“Flo, can you please not corrupt my goddaughter? She gets enough of that from her rascal father.”

“Good morning, sir! Ready to report for duty!” Whitney saluted brightly and cheerfully. “What division will I be mastering today?”

“Mastering? Haha! I hardly think you can do that in a few hours, sweetie,” Dalton responded, waving her into his office. “Does it matter? You’re going to whine no matter where I send you.”

“That’s because you sent me to watch the janitors mop!”

“Several of those same janitors have cleaned up your vomit in the past, young lady,” Dalton reminded her, smiling at her discomfort over the topic. “What about last Saturday or the one before that? I thought you, of all people, would enjoy hanging around the communications department.”

“Two weeks ago was just weird. I know security is important around here, but Mr. Quill is Cat’s dad. As for last week, that stuck-up blonde publicist is neurotic,” Whitney stated.

“Miss Brampton is hyper and full of ideas; she is not neurotic.”

“I’d say that she needs to get laid, since Chase, the boyfriend she never shuts up about, lives in New York City, but she sure had the glow last Saturday morning of a woman who’d been up all night fu–”

“I’ve told you already: The sex lives of Diamond Corp employees are none of your business,” Dalton reminded.

“Tell that to Dad,” the high school queen bee muttered.

“I’ve spent my life telling Harvey that,” her surrogate uncle pointed out.

“So, what’s on tap today? Am I finally entering one of our scientists’ mad laboratories? Or will you ship me off to another dungeon again? Say, where is my usual escort? Don’t tell me that the fair-haired boy overslept?!”

“I gave Spencer the full weekend off.”

“Aww, phooey! The handsome Mr. Vine is a great accessory piece,” Whitney joked.

“Besides deserving the weekend off, I think you need a break from Mr. Vine. I believe your evaluation called him ‘Yummy’ or something to that effect. That’s not acceptable, Whitney. You will not become the next generation version of your father. Employees are not to be slept with, particularly if you want to reach this floor someday,” Dalton warned.

“Reach this floor? I want this office,” the blonde heiress proclaimed. “Now, easy, my second-favorite uncle, I was merely pointing out that you like Spence, and that Sage should make her move on him. Daughter and her dad’s current favorite would make an amazing couple. It wasn’t for me.”

“Oh, really?” Dalton challenged, shooting the young blonde the look he used to give her when she got into trouble as a kid. “Then what was the comment about taking Spencer out for a few test rides before handing her over to Sage?”

“Geez, you’ve been eavesdropping a lot, huh? What can I say? I am Harvey Diamond’s daughter.”

“A fact that nobody in this company can ever forget.”

“So, R&D today?” Whitney prodding, nearly begging.

“With Caterina’s mother? I’d think you want to wait a few weeks for that,” Dalton pointed out.

“True, but there are probably plenty of her subordinates who can show me the ropes,” Whitney speculated, frowning at the headshake. “Charitable Givings?”

“You need to earn that day of fun with Faith,” Dalton warned about Chastity Kupp’s mother.

“Fine. When can I have Dad show me the ropes in whatever he does?” Whitney asked, already squeezing her thighs together at the prospect of her father fucking her on his work desk. With Shenai moving away, there wouldn’t be a personal assistant to interrupt. “Or give me a special assignment! I can find Shenai’s replacement.”

“I might send you down to Marketing and Sales in a couple of weeks. Under your father’s tutelage? Doubtful. He’s practically never here,” Dalton reminded the one person who should know that.

“Yeah, cause he’s your best deal closer, so he travels a lot.”

“Perhaps you can spend one day with him in addition to other more regular members of those departments. However, that won’t be happening until his criminal cases are cleared up,” the CEO stated before asking a personal question. “How is Harvey doing? Whenever I ask, he brushes my concerns off, saying that I should be worried about my health instead.”

“It sounds promising. Cosmo Spiro thinks most of the charges will be dropped soon. Sean’s grandpa thinks the whole thing stinks. He said something is fishy up in that county,” Whitney relayed.

“Yes, I agree with Seamus. And how is your hero? Officially dating yet?”

“Me and Seanie? Please! I’m too busy setting up his rewards with other girls.”

“So like your father, yet also so different,” Dalton remarked. “What about in your home? Does Audie plan on leaving anytime soon?”

“Gawd, I hope so!” Whitney exclaimed about Audie Raffel, her grandfather’s cousin.

While Audie and Hannibal never got along, the former was close to his other cousin, Demi. If anything, Aunt Demi and Audie were more like siblings than she’d ever been with her own brother. The artist had arrived over three weeks ago at the behest of Harvey’s beloved aunt.

“I doubt Aunt Demi will let him leave until the charges against Dad are dropped. In the meantime, I have to keep my friends away from Audie. Every beautiful woman is his next muse that he must paint a portrait of. You do know that he’s going through a nude phase right now?”

“Graham told me,” Dalton smirked, having always enjoyed when the eccentric artist visited.

“You should stop by again,” Whitney challenged after noticing that smirk.

“Not after he nearly talked Imogen into posing. She was horrified once she realized that she almost said yes,” Dalton admitted about when he and his wife stopped by just days after Audie’s arrival.

“Welcome to my world every single day.”

The buzzing on the intercom interrupted any comeback from the CEO. Hitting the button, they heard Florence announce that Mr. Driscoll had arrived. Whitney frowned, picturing the rest of her day.

“Accounting? That’s so boring.”

“Be nice. Arnold Driscoll is a standout employee.”

“Blah blah blah. I know that he’s loyal and has turned down better offers from other companies repeatedly. I do like Arnie, but accounting is so dull,” Whitney whined.

“Numbers matter. Remember that for the rest of your career,” Dalton advised as the door opened.

Arnold Driscoll was a thirty-four-year-old financial genius. Probably too brilliant to still be working at Diamond Corp, he’d repeatedly turned down those lucrative offers that Whitney previously referred to. Absolutely loyal to Dalton and the Diamond brothers, his brilliance would make him a shoo-in for Chief Financial Officer someday, if it weren’t for his shy demeanor. That latter trait, Harvey continually sought to overcome by attempts to fix Arnold up with women.

“Good morning, sir. Good morning, Miss Diamond,” Arnold greeted, peering at the pair through his eyeglasses with his brown eyes.

“Hiya, Arnie!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware that it was Casual Saturday. Nice to see you again, Whitney,” Arnold said, self-correcting.

“It’s that most days with this one,” Dalton remarked, walking over to shake hands and thank the brown-haired man for coming in today to help.

“Of course. Whitney is known to be interested in working here in the future. I’ll gladly be of any service that I can.”

“Stick with me, Arnie, and you’ll go places,” Whitney teased, wrapping her arm around his neck while pointing out the large window.

“Don’t let her butter you up too much. She still needs to learn the basics of your department,” Dalton insisted, shaking his head at the girl’s obvious ploy for minimal tour. “Now, I’ll let you two head down to Accounting.”

“See ya for lunch, sir.”

“Oh, I think we’ll need to skip lunch today. I’m feeling rather tired, so I’m going to head home and rest,” Dalton revealed, suddenly looking a bit pale to the teenager.

“Is everything alright? Are you feeling anything else?” Whitney asked, dropping the playful smartass act as she rushed over to check on her honorary uncle.

“Yes, yes, just a little worn down. I’ll be fine for now,” Dalton insisted, noticing Arnold’s confusion. While he eventually planned to announce his prognosis to the company, that wouldn’t happen for some time. “Don’t worry about lunch. I’ve lined up a special person to dine with you. I’m sure that you’ll be pleased with the choice.”

Whitney nodded, but the chief executive officer noticed her trembling lip. Leaning forward, he added, “It’s okay. Stay strong and learn today.”

“Of course!” Whitney declared, attempting to snap out of her funk. “C’mon, Arnie. The boss says that I need to learn that the numbers matter.”

While walking down the hallway and riding down the elevator, Arnold sensed that despite her smiles, Whitney seemed upset and distracted. Fortunately for Dalton’s secret, the accountant assumed it was about her father.

“Uh, how is your father doing?”

“Good. About what you’d expect for being accused of attempted murder of one of your childhood idols. But that’s Dad for you,” Whitney commented, acting normal.

“I talked to him a few weeks ago, but I’ve been meaning to stop by to see him, since he’s mostly stayed away from the office. Would this week be a good time for a visit?” Arnold inquired.

“That would be nice. Dad would love to see you. But I’d wait a couple of weeks. We have a host guest that sucks the air out of the place. Oh, actually, Dad might want you to see his artwork and models. So, sure, stop by after work this week,” Whitney said, stepping off the elevator to inquire about the location of the restroom. “I’ll be right back.”

Turning the corner, Whitney’s steady walk disintegrated into a dash for the restroom’s door. Slamming it open, she rushed to the sink before the tears began. The anxious teen found her right hand shaking first. Next, her left hand started to tremor, too. Eventually, her whole body shook as the sobs overtook her. Grabbing the sink’s edges to steady herself, the blonde let out a silent wail before she began to recompose herself.

Turning on the tap, Whitney cupped the water, splashing it over her face.

The cold hit hard. Sending her mind back to that frigid, dark place. Cold. So cold. And dark. Everything faded away as the terror faded along with her consciousness. The only thought in her mind: How could I have been so stupid? Sean! Sean is my only chance.

With arms flailing, Whitney felt a sharp pain in her left wrist. The painful jolt and the sound of running water helped lead her back to the present. Gasping for air, the traumatized teen’s eyes regained focus, leading her to see the mess she’d made across her face in the mirror.

“How silly of me. I’ve ruined my makeup,” Whitney said to her reflection, throwing up her defenses again. It took nearly twenty seconds for the cracks in her mind to reseal. Digging out a tissue and her mini-makeup box, she announced, “I’d better make myself presentable.”

Five minutes later and satisfied with the effort, Whitney apologized to the semi-worried Arnold.

“Sorry. I was out at a party last night. I’m still feeling a bit queasy, but nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, right,” the accountant nodded. That behavior did match the teen’s reputation. Escorting her into the department’s central room, he inquired, “Do you need anything? I can send Coleman to grab a drink or over-the-counter medicine from upstairs.”

“Coleman? Who’s Coleman?” Whitney queried, not recognizing the name.

“I’m sorry. Coleman Coyle is one of our interns. He’s also here this morning, but I sent him for a few supplies to use for our demonstration,” Arnold explained.

“We have interns in February?” the blonde questioned.

“Yes, there are a few around the company during the school year. Coleman is a senior at Breakwater University. He travels to our offices several days a week, and it counts as an independent study class for college credits,” Arnold explained moments before the door opened.

Whitney’s blue eyes widened as a young man around twenty-two entered, carrying several mid-sized boxes. While Mr. Driscoll hurried over to help by taking two of the boxes, the company heiress’s gaze scanned the impressive arms that led to a chest that strained the button-up shirt. Shortish, styled hair with brown eyes accompanied a handsome face.

Hmm, now that’s a tour I wouldn’t mind riding.

“Oh, forgive me,” Arnold said, startled to find his intern glancing inquisitively at the attractive teen. “Coleman, this is–”

“Whitney Diamond, daughter of Harvey, niece to Graham, and future successor to Dalton Pierce. Please to meet you, Mr. Coyle,” Whitney introduced herself, stepping forward with a dazzling smile and an offered hand.

“Oh! Um, sorry, took my suitcoat off to carry the…Let me put it on, Miss Diamond,” the handsome college senior apologized, concerned that he appeared unprofessional around company royalty.

“No need, Coleman. Or should I call you Cole? We can keep this tour as casual as possible,” Whitney reassured him. Then, biting her lower lip, she pointed out, “An intern, huh? That means you’re not technically an employee, right?”

---

“My gawd!” Coleman groaned, throwing his head back due to the intense pleasure.

The intern had no clue how he found himself inside an empty office, getting a stellar blowjob from the daughter of one of the company’s largest shareholders just before lunch. Hell, the teenage blonde on her knees also happened to be the niece of the COO, and everyone said that the CEO saw her the same way. Sure, he’d heard about Harvey Diamond. It would be impossible not to be with his face splashed across the news because of the current charges against him. Word around the offices had called Whitney a gorgeous girl who already had a growing reputation for sexual conquests like her father.

Yet, how the hell did Coleman have her worshiping his cock mere hours after meeting her?

I have a wonderful girlfriend back at Breakwater. I shouldn’t be cheating on her. Not with a high school senior!

Of course, after getting dragged into an empty office, the statement about having a girlfriend only served to arouse the teen more. Whitney had merely stated that his girlfriend had nothing to do with this little fun break, and she’d never learn about it. Coleman didn’t have any time to argue, as the young sexpot grabbed a rubber band off the desk to reach back and tie her hair into a ponytail.

“Trust me, you’re going to love this. I’m a master,” the company heiress proclaimed, flashing an impish smirk before unzipping his dress pants to pull out a rapidly growing dick. Clearly headed to above-average size, the blonde cheer captain praised the intern’s manhood. “Not bad at all. Your girlfriend is a lucky woman.”

Licking her lips, Whitney had leaned forward to press her lipstick-covered lips against the tip. Already defeated at ending this encounter, Coleman completely forgot his girlfriend the moment the teen’s tongue began swirling around his cockhead. While he shuddered and breathed heavily, Whitney grinned mentally. She loved seducing men, and this lucky guy had the cock she currently craved to take her mind momentarily off her troubles.

An expert teaser, Whitney had her latest lover squirming on the desk he sat on with her tongue sliding up and down his shaft before ending each trip with a slight suck of the tip. Light kisses up and down the length followed, causing Coleman to wonder why his girlfriend never paid this much attention to his cock before jumping straight to the sucking and jacking.

His girlfriend definitely didn't slide her tongue all the way past his manhood to swirl it around his big, heavy balls. That was a level of depravity he'd never experienced. Whitney seemed like an old hat at it, with her tongue slithering around the taut skin of his cum-filled testicles. The sweet kisses to each ball might have surprised him as much as the whole experience.

After what felt like the appropriate amount of foreplay, she grabbed his rod with her left hand before kissing her way back up the shaft. As her tongue finished its saliva-coating, Whitney spoke with her lips near the cockhead.

“Very impressive, Mr. Coyle. A pretty big, thick cock. It deserves a prominent listing on your resume if you wish to work full-time at Diamond Corp. We only hire the best cocksmen and kinkiest sluts,” Whitney declared, mimicking Ms. Mims, the head of HR, the best she could. “Are you ready to feel my mouth?”

Coleman could only nod, still stunned by what occurred.

“Yummy…Mmmph!” the teenager moaned, swallowing the cockhead.

Waves of pleasure hit the young, lucky intern as her tongue flicked and swirled. A wink from the little minx signaled her lips descending over one, two, three inches of the shaft. After enveloping the fourth inch, Whitney looked up, cheeks bulging, to meet his gaze. The fifth and sixth inch vanished, with sucking and licking thrown in. Coleman marveled at the ease of her effort. His girlfriend's eyes would be watering and her gag reflex on the verge of kicking in once she entered the seventh inch inside her mouth.

Slowly and delicately, Whitney built up a rhythm, bobbing her head gently as she sucked while pulling back on the six inches. The teenage tongue slashed and swirled wildly the closer it got to the tip. Then, shocking Coleman, the blonde’s mouth dropped rapidly, taking in seven inches again.

Repeatedly, Whitney performed this maneuver, pulling back just enough to never let the big dick leave her mouth, yet also never descending far enough to take the final eighth inch or so down her throat. Unsure what to do but lean back and enjoy the ride, the intern’s hand eventually settled onto the top of her head, scoping several of those blonde locks between his fingers.

Satisfied that Coleman wouldn’t blow too early, Whitney began to bob her head in a quicker, more fluid motion. Whenever pulling back, she now sucked furiously on the tip, to the point that her cheeks began to hollow. Swift, slick sounds echoed around the small office until the teen took a breather to turn up the heat.

“Am I good cocksucker, Mr. Coyle? Do you think I’ll be ready for all those college men next fall, such as yourself? I so do want to be the little freshman slut that rocks their worlds. Am I skilled enough to do that?”

“Oh, gawd, yes! Yes, yes, yes!” the college senior chanted, as Whitney finally dropped her mouth all the way down to take his entire dick inside.

Whitney reveled in this moment. The feel of that cockhead with her tongue running over it. That soft yet hard bulb rubbing against the inside of her cheeks. The hard rod pumping down her mouth to hit the back of her throat. And the best part? The power dynamic of blowing somebody who worked for the company while seducing him away from his girlfriend. No fucking wonder that Dad fucks around the company. It’s scorching hot.

Sensing that they’d entered the final act of this show, Whitney pulled off again to lick wantonly down the sides of the saliva-covered cock. She kissed the skin with soft pecks and air suctions, creating an assortment of moves intended to keep Coleman off-balance.

Then, like the cock-hungry slut she felt like this morning—blame those damn volleyball bitches for stealing Sean last night—Whitney dove back down the cock. Ramming her face up and down, she used her mouth to pump the shaft. This kept up for a solid forty seconds until teen bombshell finally felt Coleman tug her ponytail.

“Who's a better cocksucker: Me or your girlfriend?” Whitney challenged mischievously after pulling her mouth off. Unable to respond out of loyalty, Coleman’s gesture only served to egg the seductress on. “Isn’t it hot to cheat? I’ve introduced you to a new world. Have I broken the dam? What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

A shorter round of dick-slurping and sucking ensued. Sliding up and down the wet length, the temptress grinned as another idea popped into her head upon noticing the telltale smears of cheating left behind by her lipstick. Six quick descents to the bottom led to her coming up for air.

“You know, here at Diamond Corp, we’re an equal opportunity company. Perhaps you should invite your girlfriend to come up and stay the next weekend you work. I’d love to meet her.”

Coleman’s mouth dropped open at that.

“Oh, is that surprising? We’re not competing. She likely wants to marry this dick, while I just want to borrow it a few times for fun. Ooh! Speaking of entertainment, I can show your girl the ropes. I mean, give a tour of town before doing the same with my pussy. Doesn’t she like women?”

"I-I d-don't–

“No worries. I have girl-on-girl experience that I’d gladly share with an elder. After she gets me off enough times, I’ll offer a cocksucking tutorial. Wouldn’t that be something to have both of us worshiping this big dick?” Whitney inquired, winking. “Honestly, I could just hop on this cock right now; you wouldn’t be able to stop me. But it feels so much more wicked and hotter to have your girlie hold your pole before it enters me for the first time. Interested?”

Whitney didn’t bother for an answer. She held the utmost confidence that it would eventually happen. No one told her no. Okay, maybe Sean refused her, but that’s what future brothers like to do. Instead, she attacked his Coleman’s dick like a cock-starved slut, needing her fix. Without a doubt, the images she’d planted in his mind would have him coming soon.

I need my appetizer any moment. It’s almost lunchtime.

Slamming her head up and down, Whitney gave Coleman the most enthusiastic performance he'd ever witnessed in his life. The intensity of the slams and the twisting of her head to swirl her tongue had the intern feeling weak-legged and almost wobbly on the desk. At one point, Coleman tried to speak, but it came as groans and gibberish as he enjoyed the most mind-blowing blowjob ever.

With saliva from the slobbering dripping all over the black tank top, Whitney knew she’d need a cock inside her pussy as soon as she arrived home. Sean better be waiting for me. If not, he’s getting in line behind Daddy.

“Ohhhhh!” Coleman groaned, tapping her head to the point it could be called slapping.

Whitney didn’t mind the sharp accidental yank of her ponytail. Not at all. A quick grin flashed across her spread lips before the first huge ropes of cum blasted against her tonsils. More shots spurted against the inside of her cheeks. While plentiful, the blowjob pro had no trouble swallowing each spurt before any could leak past her lips.

Once Coleman finished cumming, he dropped back against the desk while Whitney took her time cleaning off any remaining spunk from his dick. Satisfied, she smiled before plucking a few facial tissues out of the container. All she needed to do was fix her hair and makeup before meeting whomever Uncle Dalton scheduled as her lunch partner.

“Not a bad first interview, Mr. Coyle. Still, we’ll need to schedule a follow-up soon, and a couples version in the near future. I just can’t wait to gobble up your girl.”

---

"Heavens to Murgatroyd!” the high-pitched squeal greeted Whitney upon entering the company’s dining room. “I thought I mixed up the dates. Holy jeepers, you’re late!”

Although her grandfather Hannibal had insisted that employees call it the commissary, it never caught on. With only a few people seated on a Saturday, that left a sizeable corner section for the elaborate display of balloons and party banners that Chastity Kupp had set up.

A third-generation employee, Chastity was beloved by nearly everyone. Despite being a stereotypical ditzy blonde who could test people’s patience, she had a highly caring soul. Always seeking to cheer up others, Chastity had an encyclopedic knowledge about her coworkers’ lives. Rather innocent, she didn’t seem to fit in a company owned by Diamonds, as she never cursed or appeared interested in sex. The latter attitude often frustrated men as the twenty-three-year-old had long, honey blonde hair, brown eyes, large breasts, and a toned ass.

The legacy employee currently served as the main entrance receptionist. Even with her time already filled with unofficial duties she insisted were vital, such as baking treats or planning celebrations, Chastity’s official responsibilities had grown over the past month. A fact that Whitney pointed out immediately upon seeing the amount of work that must have gone into this lunch by the woman she adored.

“Sorry, sorry I got held up—or down–-in accounting,” Whitney apologized while holding back a smirk. “What is all this? You shouldn’t be doing so much work for a simple lunch.”

“Leaping lizards! A simple lunch. Fiddlesticks, Whitney, grande fiddlesticks,” the honey blonde responded, wagging a finger at the teen. “Today is your anniversary!”

“What anniversary?”

“Geez Louise!” Chastity squealed, rushing forward to practically shove Whitney into a chair. “Are you okay? Is your memory struggling? Oh, I hope you don’t have the A-word. Did you know that Mrs. Hardwicke has it? I haven’t been able to get her doctor to confirm it, but she didn’t recognize me in the parking garage on New Year’s Eve. Fudgeberries! I need to see her medical records. Do you think Seanie’s grandpa would take the job?”

“That’s called breaking and entering, Chas. I thought Graham discussed this with you before,” Whitney reminded.

“Poo on a stick, I know! But I got the detective itch — the spy itch?—after teaming up with Tamsin. We still can’t agree on your agency name, but progress is being made.”

“Chas, I appreciate the effort you put in, but this is too much,” Whitney told her before another thought hit her. “Please tell me you didn’t bake a cake or another treat. Did you?”

“Just a few things!”

“Look, you have a lot of things to do, and deserve a rest.”

“Not when it’s the one-month anniversary of Diamond Corp’s next leader!”

“I thought Uncle Dalton had you helping your mother with the charity work, and Graham set you up with Cassandra Story Society’s planning group. Now, you do need to sleep sometime.”

“Not as much as people think!” the honey blonde insisted.

“Hang on, how is the CSS going? I haven’t heard much about it lately,” Whitney admitted, realizing she should ask Bridget or Sean about it soon.

“Goodness gracious! Lainey and Sutton are sweethearts!” Chastity praised the two Wynwick Foundation members volunteering to help establish the literary foundation in honor of Bridget’s childhood co-best friend. Then, the kindly receptionist leaned in to whisper, “Kitty whiskers. I think they’re what you call naive.”

‘How so?”

“Gee willikers, I keep on warning them that the Wynwicks are e-people, and they just laugh it off,” Chastity relayed, sounding concerned.

Aware that e-people meant evil in the honey blonde’s vocabulary, Whitney couldn’t argue about her family’s historical rivals, even if her dad and uncle were working with Fiona Wynwick to defend the mayor.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll get through to them eventually.”

“My goodness, I hope so,” Chastity replied before perking up again. “How was accounting? Did you have any trouble with all the numbers and paperwork? It’s sure scary in there.”

“Not at all. Have you ever met our new intern…Of course, you have. Well, Mr. Coyle showed me how vital numbers are to this company. Big numbers matter,” Whitney replied, wondering how her father would approve of her version of accepting Dalton’s advice.