Once inside Secretary Kim's house, the apartment was pitch black. I switched on the torch I'd brought and handed it to her. I made her hold the light steady while I set to work replacing the shattered bulb.
I used her coffee table as a makeshift ladder. While I worked, I stole a glance down at her. She looked small, clutching my flashlight with a terrified expression as she provided my illumination. From my vantage point, I couldn't help but notice the plunging neckline of her loose top and it was clear as day she wasn't wearing a bra. Goddess, she was a hottie. For a woman who spent her days acting like a high-and-dry ice queen at the office, she looked remarkably fragile when the lights went out.
Not wanting to come off as a creep, I averted my eyes. Staring would be amateur. I fixed the bulb in silence, hopped down, and dusted off my hands.
"Try the switch, Ma'am."
