Head Over

Part 1: 

"What could I help you with, Mr. Stanford?"

He looked back at a pair of red pumps.  The heel curved just so and by God, she was a fucking 1940s pinup right in front of his eyes.  She was the size, all right; and big loose blond curls hung down to her chest.

"Yeah, I have a meeting. A four o'clock with Mr. Biggs." As she started to look through the planners and call up to the top floor, he watched the way her legs turned as she moved her feet impatiently, as a woman does when she wear heels.  He judged they were from the upscale vintage store on 24th and Main.  They obviously weren't new, but they were in great condition.

"He'll see you right away, sir.  He's on the sixtieth floor."  She blushed as they made eye contact, and that triggered the swaggered grin he'd flash back, knowing exactly what that did.  He turned and smiled at her as he got on the elevator, and she grinned like a goof and got redder.  The elevator doors closed with a pleasant "ding" and a smug smile took over.  His mind tickled the ideas of the ride back down after sealing in millions, mere pocket change as far as he was concerned.

The doors opened and he gained back his professional air.  He stepped into a hallway, with large doors all along each side.  There was a bell man and one assumed cop to man the doors on this hall.  Officer Maybe spoke first.

"Are you Lincon Stanford?"

"I am."  He replied, pulling his ID out of his pocket.  Officer Maybe stepped back, and the bell man stepped forward eagerly.

"Right in here, sir.  We encourage you to contact us if you need anything, their will be a buzzer for you inside." He bowed slightly, opening the doors directly across from the elevators.

"Many thanks." Lincon replied cooly, as he stepped into the huge meeting room.  The wall was all windows, and it overlooked the entire city, the other three walls a comforting wood paneling as opposed to the plain white room.  He walked up to the window and looked out.  It was a sunny day, and you could see why it was the City Of Angels.  The beach was nice from where he was standing, and palm trees were everywhere; people skated and walked.  Some had dyed hair, or it was dreaded, and tons of women whose obsession was running in skimpy clothes on a daily basis.

"Nothing like New York." He sighed and smiled to himself as he stretched out.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, I'm filling in for Mr. Biggs." A voice came through a door on the far left that he hadn't noticed before.  Her arms were filled with rolled up drafting designs, rulers and a box of pens and pencils.  She set them down on the table, pushing her straight red-brown hair back, showing off her rectangular black plastic framed glasses.  When he turned he noticed they were Armani.  He eyes were sharp and her features more angular, nothing like the girl at the desk.

"What happened to Biggs?" Lincon said, nearly in disbelief.

"He got called to an emergency meeting in Prague." She sounded bored with this news.

"Is Brandy alright?"

"I guess so.  I mean, he's flying in for the intervention.  His wife was upset, seeing her in the European tabloids, so she's having an intervention."

"Oh God, poor Brenda, she must be worried sick.  Is it coke?"

"No, just an alcoholic." She started rolling out an sheet for an architecture plan.

"My name is Roxanne Warner.  I'm Biggs's personal overseer for this project, and he said to work directly with you on this.  You're...Stanford?" She asked, reaching out a hand.

"Lincon Stanford, pleasure to meet you."

They shook hands, and she walked over, sifting through files and explaining the progress made so far, all of which he already knew. He looked at her walking in a pair of beautiful green sling back satin pumps. Her pencil skirt was lavender, and her top white button up sleeveless, with ruffles were the sleeves should be. Lincon knew those heels. A pair of Jimmy Choo's that his mother had coveted. His heart stopped when he saw them.

"Oh dear God." He thought as he swallowed nervously. His eyes trailed along her gracefulfeet in those classy heels. The legs they were attached to could have been carved out by God,if he had known what kind of woman Lincon was dreaming of.

"So I hope all that makes sense. Are you ready to take the next step?" She asked, looking

up at him finally. Lincon rushed his eyes back up from her feet to meet her eyes.

"Yes, I am absolutely ready." His face was redder than before. She noticed and smiled, brushing it off.

He sighed and spent the next two hours supressing his hormones. It almost worked.

to be continued....