He adjusted his glasses, returned his hand to the laptop bag and grabbed a stick of gum from the front pocket. He downed the rest of his now lukewarm coffee and popped the gum in his mouth."Can't have shit breath today," he said to himself as he chewed. His boss, Aileen, had requested he stop by her office after the morning meeting. Normally, this wouldn't be any cause for alarm, but there had been more than a few layoffs in his department in the last few weeks. By more than a few, it was literally everyone except Jared. Aileen had always seemed to like Jared, and in most cases she even seemed to flirt with him. So, although understandably worried about his position, Jared held out hope that she was going to keep him around.He also held out hope that their flirtatious energy would eventually lead to him seeing more of her incredible body. She never wore anything too revealing, being that she is the Sr. Director of Marketing for the company, but what she did wear hugged tight in all. I took the umbrage and the package, locked my files away and left. I had never been to his house before. I knew where it was though, in Sutton Coldfield just to the north of Birmingham. The Royal Borough of Sutton Coldfield was a medieval town, granted a charter by Henry the Eighth. A bounty for the local Bishop who had been helpful in one of the King’s divorces. The town was also mentioned in one of Shakespeare’s plays. The actual area where Aubrey lived was an imposing location known as Little Aston Park. Private roads, large detached houses set in their own grounds, they oozed money and privilege. It was one of those places where properties scorned such conveniences as numbers, they had names! So you couldn’t find your destination by following a number sequence, the area subtly reminding you, that if you didn’t know where the house was, you had no business here. I drove the grass-verged roads slowly, looking for ‘Sycamores’. Every house was different, those that you could see as.
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