Conflict of Interest, Part 3

This fictional account contains explicit sexual materials, adult language and
sexual themes.  If these offend you, please do not read further.  The persons
and events described in this work are fictional.  Any similarity to actual
persons or events is strictly coincidental.  Copyright 2002 by SSTORYMAN.  All
rights reserved.  Permission is granted to reproduce this story in any form
and for any purpose as long as this notice is reproduced and no financial

This is a sequel to the author's "Revenge" posted March 2000 and "The Affair"
posted January, 1997.  It may be helpful to read (or re-read) them before
reading this story.  There are also some references to characters who first
appeared in the author's "Lisa's Quest" and "The Vacation."  But familiarity
with these stories isn't necessary to enjoy this one.

Finally, thanks to AZ-MAN for his editorial suggestions, support and
encouragement.


CONFLICT OF INTEREST

3.	The New Client.

   That was how it all started.  In two weeks Charity and Rene moved in
together.  To the outside world, they were roommates.  In reality, they were
lovers.  Charity adored her relationship with Rene.  Their lovemaking was
deeply satisfying.  She never imagined herself a lesbian or bisexual.  But
living with Rene completely changed her assessment, just as it changed her
feelings about smoking; one hundred and eighty degrees!  No one knew, but
Charity Hamilton had become a dyed-in-the-wool smoker, and was committed to
being bisexual.

   The ringing phone interrupted her extended musing.  She startled, and
picked it up.  "Hello.  This is Charity Hamilton."

   "Charity?  This is Sandy Rogers.  Did Ed Smith tell you I'd be calling?"

   "Yes," she said pleasantly.  "Ed did mention you had a little problem."

   "It's a big problem," the voice on the phone curtly replied.  "Can I make
an appointment to see you?  How about late this afternoon or first thing
tomorrow?"

   Charity looked at her watch.  It was after five.  "I need to leave by six.
How about if we do it tomorrow morning?  Say, eight thirty?"

   "How about seven thirty?  I'll be at your office at 7:30 a.m. sharp." She
paused.  "I suppose Ed mentioned this has to do with pictures of me and a
blackmail scheme?"

   Charity hated meeting clients so early.  "Yeah, he did.  Go ahead and bring
the pictures.  That'll be fine.  I'll see you at seven thirty."

   "Ed described you," Sandy went on.  "I'll recognize you.  He says you're a
very attractive woman in her late twenties, a bit on the petite side, with
long blond hair."

   "Yep, that's me," Charity replied.  "I'll see you at seven thirty."

   She hung up.  This woman could be a real pain in the ass!  She felt
uncomfortable about the case.  But she was curious to see the pictures.
Photos of women in compromising positions appealed to her prurient interests,
like it appealed to Ed's, but for completely different reasons.

   Actually Charity wasn't leaving at six.  That was a lie.  She intended to
work a few more hours.  But she didn't want to meet Sandy; she wanted a
cigarette.  When she worked late, her pattern at day's end was to visit the
"cage" on the first floor.  If anyone asked, she was just buying gum.  But
then she sneaked out the back door onto the loading dock.  There, far from the
eyes of people leaving via the main entrance, she could smoke in peace for a
few blissful minutes!

   She reached in her purse and took a disposable lighter and a cigarette from
a pack of Marlboro Lights 100's nestled in the side pocket.  She paused, and
slipped out a second one.  She smiled wantonly.  This time she'd have two,
back to back.

   Minutes later, out on the loading dock, she cupped her hands around a
cigarette dangling from her lips, and lit up.  God, it felt good!  Not smoking
at work was becoming more of a problem.  Since moving in with Rene, she'd been
smoking a lot more.  At first, she only smoked at home.  But recently she'd
started sneaking a few cigarettes at work.

   She took a long, hard drag and sucked smoke into her famished lungs.  The
relief she felt was indescribable.  Her smoking at work started innocently,
when she decided to have just one cigarette on an occasional walk after lunch.
But her after-lunch walk grew into a daily ritual.  Before long she had two
cigarettes, not one, on her walk, and sometimes three.  Then she started her
day-end "smoke a cigarette on the loading dock" ritual whenever she worked
late.  Now it was two cigarettes on the loading dock.  She smiled shamelessly.
The thing was, she wanted to smoke even more!  If she could, she'd like to
smoke constantly.  Sucking more smoke in her lungs, she had to admit that she
was hooked.  She was a real smoker now.  She loved sharing her little secret
with no one but Rene, but she longed for the day when it wouldn't be a secret.
In the meantime, she'd figure out ways to sneak more cigarettes during her
sixty hour work week.

   She effortlessly chained into the second cigarette.  She took long,
cheek-hollowing drags and held the smoke inside her lungs as long as possible.
She sighed.  This should hold me for a few hours.  After she got home, she and
Rene would share several more cigarettes before bed.  Bed!  She laughed
irreverently.  Even after all those months, she still looked forward to
cuddling in bed with tall, leggy, beautiful Rene.  The thought of it made her
feel wet again.

   So what the hell was she doing, she wondered, representing the president of
the lung association?  She shook her head.  It was a good question.  She'd
learned to hate anti-smokers, like the bitch Sandy Rogers.  Maybe it was from
living with Rene and socializing with smokers at Johnson & Myers.  But she
hated the way antis made life miserable for smokers like her.  She repeated
her words.  Smokers like her.  She smiled and took another long generous drag,
tucking the smoke safely away in her satiated lungs.  Someday soon she'd come
out of the closet.  But regrettably, she couldn't do it in time to scandalize
Sandy Rogers.  For Ed Smith's sake, and for W&C's, she'd have to keep playing
the non-smoker a little longer.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   "Mom.  We're ready for Penny to go home."

   "Okay, honey.  I'll be down in a minute."

   Sherry Crawford was worried about Gracie telling Penny Preston she smoked.
Her daughter probably didn't realize that Penny's aunt was Sandy Rogers, the
president of the lung association and the notorious enemy of smokers.  What if
little Penny couldn't keep a secret?  Letting her daughters smoke in their
home wasn't illegal.  At least, that was her husband John's opinion.  But she
knew it wasn't entirely clear.  In any case, she definitely didn't want to
become the target of vicious anti-smoking propaganda run by the lung
association in the local media, or worse.  She had to be sure little Penny
wouldn't spill the beans and make a mess.

   Whenever she felt apprehensive or nervous, Sherry wanted the same thing
every nicotine addict wants.  She wanted a cigarette.  She was out of her
Benson & Hedges Menthols, so she'd have to bum another one from her daughter.
Gracie's Salem Lights weren't bad, but they didn't have the same kick her full
flavored menthols did.  She'd grown entirely too used to the higher tar and
nicotine of the wonderful Benson & Hedges Menthols she smoked.  Maybe she
shouldn't have, but she'd forever ditched the weaker lights she first learned
on, and permanently switched to full flavored B&H Menthol.

   As she entered the kitchen, Penny was gathering up her things.  "Are you
ready?" she pleasantly asked.  "I'll run you home right now."

   "I'm ready, Mrs. Crawford.  Thanks for driving me.  My mom appreciates it."

   "No problem," she smiled.  With no comment she took Grace's cigarettes and
slid a Salem from the pack.  With Gracie's lighter she ignited it.  "Like I
said, I need to stop at the store anyway."  She took an extended drag, sucking
hard on the lighter strength cigarette, and pulled mentholated smoke into her
lungs.  She smiled, feeling somewhat relieved.  "Let's go, dear."

   Penny looked concerned, and Sherry knew why.  The youngster was worried
about being in a smoke-filled car.  Well, tough shit!  She wasn't going
without nicotine just because some snot-nosed brat didn't like it.  Anyway,
it'd give Penny a convenient cover story for why her clothes smelled like
smoke.  It was better for her mother to blame Sherry for the odor than to
suspect her fifteen year old friend.

   Sherry turned to the quiet teenager.  "So, Penny, what do you think about
Gracie smoking?  Are you scandalized?  C'mon, you can be honest with me.  I
don't mind either way."

   Penny shook her head.  "I knew you smoked, Mrs.Crawford.  But I am
surprised you let Grace smoke, too."

   "Her dad and I pretty much let Beth and Gracie do what they want.  We treat
our kids like adults, and smoking is an adult activity.  We let them make
their own decision about it, and about lots of other things."  She
intentionally gave her a big smile.  "That's not so bad, is it?"

   Penny shrugged.  "I guess not.  Most parents don't treat their teenagers
that way."  For the first time she showed a smile.  "Looking at it your way,
it's really pretty neat."

   They turned a corner, and Sherry took another hit on her cigarette.  "Mr.
Crawford and I believe teenagers are real people.  Parents should treat teens
like adults, and not tell them what to do all the time.  Kids these days don't
listen to parents anyway.  Know what I mean?"

   "You're right," she nodded eagerly.  Mrs. Crawford seemed really nice.
Then she frowned.  "But what'll I tell my parents about the smoky smell on my
clothes when I get home?"

   Perceptive kid!  "That's easy, honey," she smiled.  "Blame it on me.  Tell
'em I was smoking at our house, or even in the car on the drive home if you
feel you need to.  That's one reason I had another cigarette.  It gives you a
convenient excuse, doesn't it?"

   Penny smiled again, glad for the idea.  "Yeah, I guess it does.  Thanks."

   "No problem."  Up ahead Sherry noticed a shopping center.  She flipped her
spent cigarette out the window and moved into the turn lane.  "Do you mind if
I stop at the store for my cigarettes?  This is on the way.  I can run in, get
them, and be back in a flash.  Do you mind?"

   The youngster shrugged.  "No, I guess not."

   Penny waited while Sherry ran in.  In five minutes she returned with a
plastic bag containing a dark green carton of Benson & Hedges Menthol 100's.
As she climbed in the car, Sherry ripped the carton open and withdrew a green
and gold pack.  Tapping in quickly and vigorously on her wrist, she pulled off
the cellophane and the outer gold paper.  Without asking she removed a long
white cigarette and put it in her mouth.  She lit up again.

   "Ah, _that's_ more like it," she sighed contentedly after a hard, first
pull.  She held the thick, rich smoke from the full flavored cigarette in her
lungs.  "I _do_ like my brand much better than Gracie's."  She paused to
release a cone of smoke from her lips.  She started the car and pulled out of
the parking lot with a smile.

   Penny was watching with interest.  "Excuse me, Mrs.Crawford.  Can I ask a
question?"

   "Sure, honey.  Shoot.  What is it?"

   "Isn't it miserable needing to smoke all the time?  I mean, you obviously
couldn't wait for another one of your own cigarettes.  It seems kind of sad to
me."

   Sherry smiled.  "Did Gracie look sad this afternoon?  Did she seem
miserable when she was smoking?"

   Penny hesitated.  "No, I guess she didn't."

   "In fact, I bet Gracie seemed quite happy, about smoking, I mean.  Isn't
that right?"

   "Well, yeah; she said she did.  She says she likes smoking."

   "Right," she triumphantly replied, as she de-ashed through the crack of the
driver's side window.  "We _all_ love to smoke, Penny.  Far from being
miserable, we love the sensation of lighting up another cigarette.  The reason
we can't wait isn't because we're miserable.  Not at all.  No, it's because we
anticipate the pleasure so much."  She put her cigarette in her mouth for
another drag.  "Smoking is fun, Penny.  That's why we do it."

   "But you can't live without it," she objected.  "You have to keep doing
it."

   "That's right," Sherry smiled serenely, releasing successive bursts of
smoke from her mouth.  "We have to, and yet we want to.  It's a wonderful
paradox.  Having never tried it, you can't possibly understand.  Let me give
you an example you _can_ relate to.  How do you feel when you're really
hungry?  Do you call that being miserable?"

   "No," the youngster softly answered.  "I just can't wait to eat again.
That's all."

   "And when you finally do eat, it's extremely satisfying, isn't it?  It
feels _so_ good.  Well, that's what smoking's like for Gracie and me.  The
pleasure of satisfying our hunger, our hunger for a cigarette, is
incomparable."  She let out a gentle laugh.  "Don't worry.  We're not
miserable.  We're supremely happy when we smoke."

   Penny said nothing as Sherry finished her cigarette.  But the wheels were
turning inside her pretty little head.  

   As they pulled up in front of the Preston house, Sherry looked directly at
her.  "Don't forget, Penny.  Not a word to anyone about Gracie smoking.  You
promised.  Remember?"

   "I remember, Mrs. Crawford.  And thanks for explaining it.  I think I
understand now."  

   Sherry smiled as Penny got out of the car.  "I bet you do, dear.  I bet you
do."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   Amanda Preston was furious!  The smell of smoke on Penny's clothes sent her
through the roof.  She almost called Sherry Crawford to complain about her
smoking while driving her daughter home.  But she thought better of it, mostly
because Penny had to finish the school project with Grace.  And frankly,
Amanda didn't want to volunteer to do the driving herself.  To calm herself,
she walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured herself a drink.

   Her older daughter, Priscilla, was amused by this dramatic, almost
hysterical reaction.  "Oh Mom, take a pill.  Just chill!  I could've told you
this'd happen.  Grace's older sister Beth's in my class at school.  Gracie's
mom isn't the only one in their family who smokes.  Beth Crawford smokes, too.
What's more, Beth's parents let her do it!"

   Amanda glared at Priscilla.  "You don't mean it?  God!  Prissy, are you
sure?"

   Priscilla smiled and nodded.  "Trust me, Mom.  I'm sure.  I've seen Beth
smoke, at parties and outside after basketball games at school."

   Amanda shook her head.  She was a tall, statuesque blond with striking
features.  She still wore her work clothes.  "My God!  What's the world coming
to?  In the 21st century parents should know better than to let children do
such things!  That's exactly the kind of thing that drives your Aunt Sandy
ballistic."

   Priscilla acknowledged it with a meaningful nod of the head.  "For sure,
Mom.  Being anti-smoking is a religion for Aunt Sandy.  But I'm just saying,
it doesn't surprise me that Penny came home smelling like smoke.  In fact, I
wouldn't be surprised if Gracie smokes, too."

   Penny gulped involuntarily hearing her sister's remark.  For the first time
she spoke.  "Oh come on, Prissy.  That's silly.  Gracie is my age.  She's only
fifteen."

   "Kids start smoking that young, Squirt," Prissy wryly answered.  "I'm just
saying, it wouldn't shock me, knowing her sister, Beth.  She's been smoking
for awhile."

   Amanda's ire reached fever pitch.  "Well, once this project's done,
Penelope Preston, I don't want you spending any more time with that Crawford
girl.  She's a bad seed.  In a family like that, who knows what kind of
trouble she'll get herself into in high school?"

   It was Penny's turn to defend her new friend, though she knew when her mom
used her full, given name, it was a sign of trouble.  "Now, Mom, don't get
upset.  Grace is a nice girl.  She's really smart.  I like her, to tell the
truth.  I like her mom, too.  Mrs. Crawford is really nice.  She just smokes,
that's all."  She couldn't resist a tweak.  "After all, it's not like she's a
lesbian!"

   "Penelope!" Amanda retorted.  "Don't you dare insinuate there's anything
wrong with your aunt being a lesbian!  The only reason I told you about your
aunt's ? preference, shall we say, is because of that incident last Christmas
with her friend Camille.  I raised you girls to be tolerant of people who are
different.  Your Aunt Sandy is different in that way.  But there's nothing
wrong with it!"

   Penny was in no mood to back off.  "Exactly, Mom.  We're supposed to be
tolerant of those who are different.  I agree.  So I don't see why I should
shun Grace Crawford, just because her parents and her older sister smoke.
What's the difference?  We tolerate Aunt Sandy's preference, as you call it.
Why shouldn't we tolerate the Crawford's preference?"

   "You don't get it," Amanda said in a huff.  She sipped her drink.  "Your
Aunt Sandy can't help it.  But Sherry Crawford and her daughter chose their
deviant lifestyle.  Being a smoker is a choice, and a damn stupid one!  Being
a ? a lesbian isn't."  She almost choked on the "L" word.

   Penny looked at her sister.  Priscilla was enjoying seeing her sibling take
on their mother.  "Mom," Penny concluded.  "I think you're wrong.  If you
tolerate one, you should tolerate the other.  There's nothing wrong with Aunt
Sandy.  I agree.  But there's also nothing wrong with Mrs. Crawford.  I don't
see how you can treat her like she's some sort of pervert."

   "You're too young," her mother replied sharply.  "You don't understand,
either of you.  Teenagers can't differentiate in these situations.  I don't
want you associating with that Crawford girl after your project is done.
That's final.  End of discussion."

   Penny frowned.  "Mom, I wish you'd treat Prissy and me like adults.  We're
not children, you know.  Parents should treat teenagers like adults, and stop
trying to tell them what to do all the time.  Give us some credit for being
able to make our own decisions for a change."

   "Stop!  End of discussion," Amanda repeated sternly.  "I mean it!  And I
don't want you talking back to me like that, young lady."

   Penny hung her head.  As she did, she thought she detected the smallest
curl of a smile on her older sister's lips.  "Yes, Mother," she sighed.
"There's no point in discussing it."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   By nine o'clock, Charity finally had enough.  She gathered her things,
taking a file to finish working on at home.  Her desire for another cigarette
finally overcame her.  As soon as she got in her car in the parking garage,
she lit up.  By the time she'd finished her twenty minute drive home, she
finished that cigarette plus a second one.  When she finally walked in the
door she felt much better.  She felt ? normal again.

   "Hi, sweetie!"  Rene greeted her roommate by planting a big kiss on her
lips.  "My, my!  You've been smoking again, haven't you, you naughty girl?"

   Charity laughed.  "Yes, I have, baby," she admitted.  "And it felt damn
good, I confess."  She put her file on the table and wrapped her arms around
her brunette friend.  "Let's try it again, but properly this time."

   The lovers embraced and kissed.  Charity felt the familiar tingle of Rene's
fingers squeezing her ass.  She reciprocated in kind.

   "You know what, Rene?  I've been thinking about something," Charity began
as she pulled away and walked into the kitchen to get a Diet Pepsi from the
refrigerator.

   Rene smiled.  "Why don't you sit down and have another cigarette with me
while you tell me all about?  I've been smoking alone here all evening.  I'm
tired of that."

   The girls sat in the living room across from one another.  Rene handed her
blond roommate an unlit Marlboro Light 100 from her pack.  "I love corrupting
you, Charity," she giggled mischievously.  "It's so much fun!"

   Charity lit up with Rene.  "It's not corruption," she interjected.  "But
it's what I want to talk to you about," the blond girl sighed.  She released
the start of an exhale before sucking the smoke back into her lungs.  "I want
to talk to you about my problem with smoking."

   "Oh?"

   "I can't keep living like this.  Every day I sneak out for a couple
cigarettes after lunch.  I constantly look for excuses to run errands so I can
smoke.  But I'm not satisfied.  It's just hell waiting for the next
opportunity to have a cigarette."  She paused for another powerful hit,
drawing more smoke deep into her lungs.  "So I've been thinking.  Do you
suppose Johnson & Myers would have any interest in adding another lawyer?"

   Rene squealed and clapped her hands in delight, holding her cigarette
between her fingers.  Her brunette pageboy bounced, and she giggled excitedly.
"Oh my God!  I wondered how long this would take!  It would be _so_ great to
have you join my firm, Charity!"

   "Yes, but would they have me?  What do you think?"

   Rene's eyes sparkled as she paused to puff on her cigarette.  "I already
talked to Randy Myers a couple weeks ago.  I figured eventually you'd want to
make a lateral move and join us.  Well, I hoped you would, anyway.  Randy was
very positive.  He says the firm has more work than we can get done.  We
especially need another experienced trial lawyer."  Her face shone with
pleasure.  "Someone like you would be perfect, Charity!"

   The blond girl let out a huge sigh.  "God, that's great!"  She manicured
her cigarette in the ashtray on the table.  "So, what should I do if I'm
interested?"

   Excitedly, Rene answered.  "Talk to Randy as soon as possible.  I know he's
in tomorrow morning.  He has a trial starting the next day, but I'm sure he'll
squeeze you in first thing tomorrow.  Come in early with me.  We'll meet with
Randy for an hour, and then you can go back to that awful, non-smoking
Williams & Connors, while I smoke at work all day at Johnson & Myers!"  She
was teasing her friend, and she enjoyed it.

   "Shit," Charity mumbled.  "I can't tomorrow.  I have a client coming at
seven thirty.  You'll never believe who it is, either.  It's the president of
the lung association."

   Rene rolled her eyes.  "Sandy Rogers?  Oh, God!  You _can't_ work for the
lung association, Charity!  I hate those guys!"

   "I know.  I do, too.  But it's not for the lung association.  Damn, I
shouldn't have mentioned who the client is.  We agreed not to talk about our
cases and clients, because of the conflict of interest thing.  But it's a
personal matter for Ms. Sandy, Anti-Smoking, Rogers."

   Rene laughed.  "Stand her up!  Let her cool her heels in your reception
area without you.  It'd serve her right!"  Seeing a glum frown, she went on.
"Yeah, I know.  You have to do what you have to do.  Blah, blah.  Lawyers must
zealously represent clients' interests and all that."  She smiled again.  "But
soon, Charity, you can be finished with representing people like the bitch
from the lung association.  I know J&M will make you an offer.  I just know
it.  God, it'd be so great, too," she sighed.  "It'd be wonderful having you
in our office.  And you'll be able to smoke to your heart's content, as much
as you want," she added slyly, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

   Rene's tease drew a smile.  "God, I know," she sighed happily.  "Maybe it's
dumb to make a decision like this because of my need to smoke.  But you know
what?  It's become so much more important to me the last few weeks.  I can't
make it any more only smoking in the morning and at night.  It drives me
crazy, especially because I know things would be completely different at
Johnson & Myers."  She paused for a last drag on her cigarette.  "You ruined
me, Rene.  You _did_ completely corrupt me."

   Rene leaned over to give Charity a kiss.  "And I'm so glad," she smirked.
Following her roommate's example she crushed her cigarette in the overflowing
ashtray.  "Before you get down to business and work on that file you brought
home, what do you say you and I take a little break in the bedroom first?"

   "Mmm, I'd love to," Charity sighed.  She watched Rene pick up her pack of
cigarettes and head to the bedroom.  "If this is corruption, then I gladly
give in to it!  Take me, Rene!"

   "Don't worry, sweetheart," cooed the brunette.  "I will!"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   At seven thirty the next morning, on the other side of Charity's desk sat
Sandy Rogers, the great persecutor of the smoking community.  Unknown to her
new client, however, Charity had just had two cigarettes back to back driving
to work.  But with a squirt of perfume and two breath mints, she was confident
neither Sandy nor anyone else could tell.

   "These pictures are really something.  You and Larilyn were really
involved, I take it?"

   "Yes, we were," Sandy confirmed with a sigh.  She nervously brushed her
short blond hair off her face.  "Let me be blunt.  I'm a lesbian.  I do not
now have, nor ever have I ever had, any interest in men.  Unfortunately, in my
position that can't be known.  Larilyn and I were on the association board
together.  Several years ago she went through a difficult time and I ? I
comforted her.  One thing led to another.  We began a torrid affair that
lasted a year or so.  These pictures were taken during that time."  She gave
Charity a demure smile.

   "I see," Charity grinned back.  She once again thumbed through the photos.
They _were_ hot, taken with a timed shutter on a sophisticated camera.  It was
a sequence of poses with the two lovers in bed together.  "Why did you let her
take these pictures in the first place?"

   As Sandy squirmed, Charity smiled.  She had to admit that Sandy Rogers
_was_ good looking for a woman her age.  And God, she _did_ look like Hillary
Clinton!

   "We wanted pictures of us together as mementos.  Originally I had a set,
too.  I had one in a frame on my nightstand for awhile.  When we broke up, I
destroyed my copies and forgot about them.  Evidently Larilyn didn't throw
hers away.  She says she has the negatives, too."

   "Obviously," Charity murmured, leafing through the photos one last time.

   "I hope you're not shocked," Sandy went on.  "The pictures are
embarrassing.  I can't let them be distributed to my board.  I didn't know
what to do, except call Ed Smith.  Is there some way you lawyers can stop this
crazy woman from blackmailing me?"

   Charity smiled.  "Let me answer your first question first.  Don't worry,
I'm not at all shocked."  She paused and thought for a moment.  What the hell?
Why not tell her the truth?  "Actually, Sandy, I guess I should admit
something.  I'm a lesbian myself."

   As soon as she said it, Charity knew it was a mistake.  She'd never
admitted her sexual preference to anyone but Rene.  No one else knew the
sexual nature of their relationship.  No one thought a thing about two female
lawyers from different firms rooming together.

   The look of shock and delight on Sandy's face was unmistakable.  "Really?
Oh, I see."  Her countenance changed; her voice took on a seductive magnetism.
In short, she began turning on the charm.  "Tell me about it.  Is this a
recent development for you?"

   It was Charity's turn to nervously squirm.  "Yeah, sort of," she mumbled.
"I dated men for years, and had sex with them.  But I was never satisfied.
Then I met my current lover and, well, it was great.  We've been living
together now for several months.  So I don't know if I'm a lesbian, or bi, or
what.  But I'm very happy with my decision."

   "I bet you are," Sandy smiled, seductively batting her eyes.  "You know,
Charity, right now I'm not seeing anyone, and you're very lovely.  I don't
mean to be too forward by coming on to you, but I may as well say it.  If
you're interested, I'd love to get together sometime, on a personal level, if
you know what I mean."

   God, Charity thought.  This woman doesn't beat around the bush!

   "Thanks," she blushed.  "But my relationship with my lover is exclusive.
For now."  Damn, she thought.  Why did I add those last two words?  What am I
thinking?

   Sandy nodded.  "I understand, dear.  If you change your mind, let me know.
I'll be honest.  I rarely have much opportunity to meet other discrete
professional women who share ? shall we say, our common interest?  I do hope
you're not offended by my candor."

   "Not at all," Charity assured her.  And it wasn't a lie.  She felt a rush
of adrenaline just listening to the attractive older woman's proposition.  "I
find you strangely attractive, Sandy," she admitted reluctantly.  "But our
relationship has to be purely professional, for a lot of reasons."

   She knew she shouldn't have opened that can of worms.  Sandy _was_
attractive, and the forbidden nature of an affair with the beautiful older
woman made the idea more delectable.  But she was a closet smoker, which would
inevitably make any fling with Sandy a disaster, even if she was tempted to
cheat on Rene, which she wasn't.  At least, she didn't _think_ she was.

   "Fine.  Okay.  Let's get back to business," Sandy went on.  She appeared to
recover nicely from being turned down flat.  "What can we do about this
blackmail threat?"

   Charity felt sweaty, and wiped her forehead.  "Well, I could spend lots of
your money fighting this, but here's what I'd do if I were you.  I'd get my
lawyer to write a nasty letter threatening legal action if Larilyn goes
through with her plan, legal action that would be expensive as hell to
defend."  Seeing the pleased look on Sandy's face, she went on.  "For the cost
of my time to write one letter, you might just scare this women into doing
nothing, forgetting about it, and going home."

   "Perfect," Sandy purred.  "God, Charity, you're so smart!  That's exactly
what I want you to do.  You're a genius."  Again, the seductive charm
surfaced.

   "I've seen threatening letters stop prospective plaintiffs in the past.
But if we threaten it, and she goes forward anyway, you must be prepared to
file suit.  Otherwise, my credibility is shot to hell.  By the way, you never
told me.  What's she asking for?  Money?"

   Sandy suddenly looked very embarrassed.  "No.  You'll never believe what
that bitch Larilyn wants from me.  It's _so_ sick.  I almost can't discuss
it."  She paused and took a deep breath.  "For years Larilyn was one of my
board members, a zealous advocate for the anti-smoking cause.  But for some
bizarre reason, a few months ago she started smoking.  Imagine!  In her early
forties, she took up the damn habit.  Have you ever heard of anything so
retarded?"

   Charity's heart was in her mouth.  "Uh, no," she stuttered.  "That's pretty
unusual."

   "It sure is.  So Larilyn's only demand to give me the negatives is I have
to smoke a pack of cigarettes with her.  For some reason, she's obsessed with
making me smoke.  Isn't that sick?"  Sandy blushed.  "Actually, there's
another aspect of her blackmail scheme I guess I can tell _you_ about, because
you understand my sexual preferences.  She has a lesbian friend who smokes, a
woman about your age, actually.  Larilyn's plan is for the three of us to get
together.  They'd eat me out while making me smoke."  The older woman shook
her head.  "I mean, I like sex as much as the next girl, and I'm all for
having a casual fling."  She batted her eyes at Charity.  "But there's no way
I'd ever pick up a cigarette!"

   Charity shook her head.  "And that's it?  That's all?  She wants you to
smoke with her?"

   "That's all?  It's too damn much!  Don't you see?  It's perfect revenge.
Larilyn knows I oppose smoking in every form, that I've fought like hell to
abolish it for years.  We're winning, too, you know.  I feel it'll finally
happen within my lifetime, and certainly within yours.  By the time we're
done, there'll be no more smokers.  So, for Larilyn to make me smoke is a real
sharp stick in the eye."

   Charity smiled.  She had to admire this woman's guts.  "God, she's a
devious bitch, isn't she?"

   Sandy sighed.  "It was great when she was on our side.  She _was_ deviously
clever.  Larilyn was a real asset on the lung association board.  But now
she's become very dangerous.  She's deserted the cause; she's become a
smokers' rights advocate.  I don't know quite how or why it happened.  But
she's cunning, all right.  I don't know if she'll roll over and play dead just
because she gets a written threat on Williams & Connors' letterhead."

   Charity felt herself growing less excited about this project.  She had no
idea the stakes that were involved.  "Well, we'll find out, won't we?"

   Sandy smiled.  "Yes, we'll see what happens.  I'm glad you'll hold my hand
through this difficult ordeal, Charity, dear."  From the look in her eye,
Charity guessed she hadn't given up the hope of seducing her.  "I feel so much
better.  I'm sure I'm in good hands."

   Charity gulped and nodded.  "Right.  Well, I hope this'll work out."  

   After Sandy left, Charity closed her office door and stared into space.
God, what had she gotten herself into?  She personally wished Sandy's
adversary would make her smoke.  Hell, it'd be great if she got Sandy
hopelessly addicted to cigarettes.  But it wasn't likely.  Sandy was a
fighter.  But she tried to imagine what Sandy Rogers would look like with a
long, white cigarette hanging from her mouth.  She shook her head.  That was
stupid.  It'd never happen!

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