Chastity Holmes riffled through the papers on her large mahogany desk, searching for the file on her latest assignment. She was always vowing to be more organized, but somehow her best intentions remained buried under mounds of stuff. Her body was at work, but her mind hadn't kicked in yet. She supposed she'd been given the nickname 'Chase' for a reason.
Her shoulders ached with an unaccustomed tenseness. She shrugged her left shoulder, moving it in a circular motion to work out the kinks. As she sorted through the various reasons for her painful stiffness, she decided on the most apparent--celibacy. Not getting any sex appeared to be taking a toll.
She had accepted a position with Norwell Genetic Industries in Maryland when she and Eric, her boyfriend of almost two years, had broken up. The sex had been fantastic, but their life goals just hadn't meshed. He had an accounting position and wanted her to stay home and raise a family. Just the thought of having kids boggled her mind.
Her split with Eric had been amicable, and surprisingly enough she hadn't shed a single tear. Maybe he hadn't been Mr. Right after all.
She moved her right shoulder in the same rotation, hoping the tension would ease.
Why was she thinking about him, anyhow? It wasn't like she didn't have anything else to do. She rubbed her brow.
Christ, this desk is a mess.
She had no idea how much work was going to be involved in this position ... or how much she'd miss her widowed mother. Without Eric as a diversion, she and her mom had become very close. After Chase's father died on the job, the two had found consolation in being together and had discovered a great friendship.
At twenty-four, Chase realized it was time for her to become responsible, build a life. She was on her own, far from home and the people she knew in California. Had she made the right career choice?
She took stock of her office. It was far more spacious than she'd expected, nicely decorated with matching furniture and new carpeting. She'd expected to find just a cubicle with her name on it.
An emptiness rose from the pit of her stomach. Was this the excitement she wanted?
The job had come with a generous salary, but cut drastically into her personal life. As the background investigator for the constant stream of applicants applying for research positions at Norwell, her responsibilities were endless. Following up on the personal references of each applicant, checking with their previous employers and investigating all the other relevant, tiny details took more time than one would expect.
Hard work didn't bother her, but she needed to find a way to compact her job into an eight-hour day to leave some time for herself. She didn't even have time to take care of her own filing.
"Things have to change," she muttered.
She sifted through the paper piles, looking for a particular portfolio.
A steady boyfriend would be nice, but what she needed was an assistant. She laughed at the thought.
Fat chance of that ... but it would be nice to have a handsome, male aide to keep me organized and cater to my sexual needs, as well. Masturbation just doesn't do it for me.
Thoughts of an imaginary helper's masculine hands roving over her body invaded her thoughts, increasing her respirations. Her hair cascaded over the edge of her high-back chair as she leaned back to relax. She turned to less arousing thoughts and pictured the unpacked boxes lining the walls of her new apartment--something else she had yet to tackle. At least she could blame it on her workload. She'd hardly had time to breathe, let alone unpack, since coming to Maryland.
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