F E Campbell

Margo

CHAPTER ONE

PAINFUL PENURY

By the time she had traversed the park and made her way around Franklin Square, Margo was breathless. In the crowded lobby of the Boulter Building, the rise and fall of her breasts was attracting male attention. It was nothing new. She was used to it. She was not a girl to hold it against men for acting like men. If nature had so endowed her, she felt only gratitude for her good fortune. Just as she felt it for her narrow waist and trim hips. Her bottom was a subject best ignored at this moment.

She entered the elevator positive she was late. Norma Boulter had kept the top floor for herself. Above it was the penthouse in which she lived. The panel beside the main entrance bore an impressively gilded reference to the many companies whose head offices were her own. Threading her way past the appraising eyes of the feminine staff, Margo was aware of measuring glances which centered on her frontal equipment. No doubt they were attributing it to falsies. Most girls did, but that did not matter either. What mattered was the mahogany doors just ahead. Bea Maxwell, the secretary, produced her usual smile and cocked an eyebrow at the clock.

"Hello, Miss Davis. Just one minute late today. You're doing better all the time."

Margo had once trembled at this point. But that was seven weeks ago, and she supposed with a shrug that the girl thought she was a supervisor. She pushed at the mahogany slab, which had probably cost a king's ransom, and entered the holy presence.

Norma Boulter was ageless. One was never quite sure if you caught her too early in the morning that she might be less than beautiful. Her hair and features were regimented. She kept control of them, allowing neither to show any feminine weakness. Margo was willing to believe there was no weakness behind the cold gray eyes. The head of Boulter Inc. pressed the button to kill the intercom, the phone, the Dictaphone, and the tape machine. She, too, looked at the clock before raising a languid regard upon her flushed visitor.

"One minute late, Margo." She shrugged. "I suppose that shouldn't bed too bad, all things considered."

"It's very difficult to arrive precisely at the right moment Miss Boulter. If you would give me a little more leeway?"

"It doesn't matter. It's your loss you know. I'd like to see you five minutes late each time. But anyway just one extra today."