My new house, car, and female friends are great improvements, but there's one glaring thing missing: cash. My bank account just doesn't match up with the new lifestyle. I should shore up my finances, and where better to do that than at the bank?
"Bill, I'm going to accompany you today. I have some business downtown and I think you're heading my way."
Ashley pipes up, "I usually catch a ride with him too, since it's all the same place. Let's go." Bill nods absently and we head for the door.
In the garage, Becky and Jessica hop into the Escalade and are off. I briefly consider driving, but I don't want to strain my control over Bill. Instead, I ask, "Do you ever get to drive Dad's car, Ashley?"
"Not til today!" she says, taking the hint and the keys. I take shotgun and Bill slides sullenly into the backseat.
Ashley plays hard and fast with her new toy, but the traffic doesn't really let her use the BMW's power as much as she'd like. Beyond me constantly ogling Ashley from the corner of my eye, it's an uneventful drive. The bank office has its own reserved garage and Bill's pass gets us in.
In the lobby, Bill breaks off and heads for the elevators. Ashley is about to do the same, but I catch her arm. "Is there anyone in this building who handles loans?" I ask.
Ashley considers for a moment. "Most personal loans are handled in the branches, but they do some business loans on the fourth floor. Ask for Ms. Walker."
"Thanks, babe." I peck her on the cheek. She gives me a sly smile as we walk to the elevators. We pack into the back of one with half a dozen other administrators. I take the opportunity to grab her ass where no one can see. She shoots me a playful glare in response.
The fourth floor opens onto a receptionist in front of a cubicle farm. She points me toward an office in a far corner. I open the door marked Joanne Walker to reveal a primly dressed woman in her mid-40s wearing librarian glasses with a tight bun.
“Can I help you?” she asks brusquely.
I smile. “So nice to put a face to the voice on the phone. I’m just here to sign off on the details of my loan? They said there might be an issue and sent me here.”
“Hmm,” Ms. Walker coldly responds as she turns to her computer. “What was the name of your business?”
“ Design, Inc.,” I improvise.
“I don’t see anything here-”
“You’re not serious!” I exclaim. “After all the conversations I’ve had with your organization, and with you personally, and you lost the paperwork?” I mentally lean on her. “This is hardly professional. I expected better from your institution. And you, Joanne.” I turn to leave.
“Wait, Mr. . . ?” Ms. Walker responds, right on cue. “Please, I’m sure we can work this out. Customer service is our top priority. Sit down and I’ll see what we can work out.”
Ten minutes later she’s arranging for a transfer of $250,000 to my newly-opened business account. “Well, I’m glad we were able to get this straightened out,” I say, relaxing the gruff air of entitlement that I’ve kept during the transaction.
“So am I,” says the obviously-relieved Joanne Walker. “Just initial each page and sign there at the bottom of the last.”
I look up with a glare. “. . . After you hand me your underwear, of course.” Off her look of confusion I lean forward heavily. “The custom clause, the one you and I discussed over the phone. ‘Initiation of contract is pursuant to applicant’s receipt of all relevant documentation and lingerie of attendant loan officer.’ I don’t appreciate your lack of attention to detail, Ms. Walker.”
“Of...of course,” she stammers. I set the pen down and gesture to the corner. She stands and takes a few steps over. With her back to me, she pulls up the tail of her blouse and reaches up to unclasp her bra. She carefully drags the straps over her shoulders and out her sleeves before popping a couple buttons down the front of her top and pulling out the bra. Joanne then bends and shimmies her pencil skirt up until it barely covers her ass. She pinches the sides of her panties and pulls them down to her knees. Two quick steps and they’re off. Red-faced, she turns back to me and places her underwear on the desk next to the contract.
“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Joanne,” I say as she readjusts her skirt and blouse. I can see her nipples pressing against the tight fabric of her top.
“Thank you, sir,” she responds. I sign the paperwork and collect the checkbook and credit card that connect to my new business account. Joanne Walker is still blushing as I leave her office carrying her clothing.
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