No such luck

"Bring in Ms. Sterger, if she is available," you tell your receptionist, who proceeds to send in Jenn Sterger, in her trademark low-cut top and blue jeans, into your office.

"Have a seat and tell me how I can be of service to you, Jenn," you tell her, making a point not to stare at her tits, as hard as that was to do, lest you become another Brett Favre to her.

"I've had a good run out east, but I'm moving here to LA," she tells you as you begin to type up her contract, "and since I don't really know anyone out here, I was directed to your office."

That's an odd way of putting it, and you feel like this one might be getting away from you, but when she begins talking about her career aspirations, you sigh a sigh of relief to yourself, since you appear to have her back on track.

"Before you give that to me, let's get one thing straight," she says to you, obviously wanting to be the one in control here, "if you know anything about my past, you know I have trouble trusting people now. Don't take it personally, but I need some time to get to know you better before I bring that back to you."

"I completely understand Jenn," you tell her, giving her all the time she needs to make up her mind about you, but in the back of your mind, you really doubt you'll see her again.