The following day, Melvin stepped through the elevator doors and onto the floor where the directory had informed him the law offices of Briswell and Briswell resided. Everything looked shiny, nice, and new. The twin attorneys were successful enough to have their own commercials on television and some of the biggest companies in the city as their clients, and it showed. Melvin was fairly well off, but he wondered if he could afford them. He hoped that having sex with Bridget might get him some sort of discount if their prices were too extraordinarily high.

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He walked up to a large reception desk where a cheery young woman with twinkling eyes and a beauty pageant smile greeted him.

"Hi, I'd like to speak to Ms. Briswell, please," Melvin said.

"Which one?" the receptionist chirped in her pixie voice.

"Oh, right. Bridget, please. Tell her it's Melvin MacMuffin."

"Certainly. Just have a seat right over there, and I'll see what I can do for you," the receptionist said and pointed him towards a semicircle of chairs in a small waiting lounge. She let her eyes drift a few extra seconds on Melvin's tush as he walked away before moving on to the next person at the desk.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her mind still on Melvin and what it would be like to feel his hands roaming on her bare skin.

Just as Melvin sat down and opened the new issue of Forbes magazine, a warm voice called, "Mel!" It was Bridget; she approached him with long, hip swaying strides, her hand extended towards him, her face beaming. She looked very happy to see him. Melvin took her hand with a hardy handshake, and Bridget questioned him with raised eyebrows, the same look that Melvin had given her the day before when she showed up outside the door to his apartment.