For a while, Chris was in a state of shock. He didn't know what had happened to him, or how, but he was sure that nutsy broad who'd invaded his car was somehow responsible. What had her name been? Mary Anne? No - Narayanne! That was it! He'd track her down somehow, and then he'd make her undo it!
Suddenly, Chris realized that is was almost 8:00! Work! he realized. Crap, I've got to get to the office! I hope they didn't notice me being out yesterday! Quickly, Chris jumped back in the shower, got dressed, grabbed a can of PowerAde and ran for the car.
The drive to work was fairly uneventful, although Chris was feeling slightly queasy, particularly at red lights, but he chalked it up to having eaten nothing since the night before last. 30 minutes later, though, he was pulling his Mercedes into a space in the nearby parking deck.
He was just exiting his car when he suddenly felt a familiar sensation begin to creep over him. No! he thought wildly. But it was too late.
Seconds later, a man walked by the Mercedes. He didn't see P.L. exit the car, but if he had, his breath would have been taken away. She wasn't the same P.L. that had spent the night with Tank - in fact, she had no recollection of Tank at all - but she was still stunning. The tall, slender blonde in the women's business suit with sort skirt smiled and exited the garage.
At the door to the office building, Walter the doorman smiled, as he always did, to the approaching figure. She was short and plump, just the way he like his women, with beautifully smooth dark chocolate skin. "Mornin', Walter darlin'" she smiled at him, the lilting southern voice melting him down to his socks.
"Mornin', Miss Aything, Ma'am," he replied. AS always, she stood on tiptoe and gave him a peck on his cheek, smiled sunnily at him, and continued on. She entered the elevator. Just as the doors were about to close, another man slipped on board.
When the man exited on the 37th floor, his tie was askew, his hair was mussed, and he had telltale signs of lipstick on his face. The other passenger, a tall, cool, Nordic-looking blonde in a strapless, backless black evening gown, smiled sweetly at him as the doors closed.
Finally, the elevator reached the 55th floor, and P.L., still in the form of hte Nordic blonde, stepped off. As she entered the offices of Carson & Donovan Advertising, she passed one of the copywriters. As he approached, P.L.'s form seemed to shiver like a heat mirage, and suddenly she was a pixieish redhead wearing a t-shirt and shorts. She smiled seductively at the copywriter, who almost dropped his latte.
She went into her office and closed the door. Sitting at her desk, P.L. knew she should be working on a campaign for some company or other - but she just couldn't get the thought of that cute copy guy out of her head!
After about an hour's worth of daydreaming, the intercome on her desk buzzed. Shaking herself out of her fantasies, she pressed the button. "Y-yeah?"
"Sorry to bother you, Ms Aything" came the secretary's voice, "But the boss wants to see you right away."
