I really should have seen this coming. That he would turn my sartorial intuition to myself.
Reading myself wasn't the problem, but the things… the words that I would discern from my attire - that was the problem.
While reading, lying wasn't an option. It usually feels like the words just tumble out of my lips, giving me no chance to add or remove.
My outstretched hands flagged to my sides as I realized the magnitude of what he had asked of me. Perhaps I deserved it after that session on Vera. The poor girl didn't deserve any of those harsh truths. I might've just aired her linens before her boss. Who I suspect is the person she's trying to get his attention again.
Their outbursts had given me a hint and if he allowed an applicant suck his dick then surely his secretary must've done worse. She most certainly was pretty enough, his type.
"Is there a problem? Does this intuition of yours, not work on you?" he asked, grinning and pulling me out of my reverie.
