Financial Exposure

Beverly paced and fidgeted outside the Board Room. Her insides churned with a frenzy unlike her normally self-assured behavior. She knew that in a few minutes her presentation would make or break her career, and sink or save the stodgy bank that employed her.

Freedom First bank faced disaster, like so many others these days. Beverly saw a way out and it drove her crazy she couldn't persuade co-workers to sell the plan to top management. With her boss booted for corruption, now she had her chance. But she'd be talking to the Board with her old title as manager of the accounting department, rather than vice president. Glass ceilings stayed firmly in place at Freedom First.

Beverly hoped that might change today.

Though she might be bumping against the limits of upward mobility, Beverly had a reputation of integrity and competence. To most workers those traits came second to her striking physical appearance, starting with her big, almost too big, blonde, almost yellow, hair. That was pretty much her natural color but she dyed it to keep the tones uniform. She kept it impossibly perfectly brushed, smooth, thick waves swooping away from her forehead to just cover her ears, and settling evenly just past the top of her shoulders. Her pencil-thin body made her not-quite B-cup size breasts stand out noticeably—a feature Beverly took care to emphasize with expensively tailored clothes. She had a sweet and open face that nearly always wore a serious expression. Beverly was well liked from mailroom to executive offices not for her friendliness, but for her intelligence, loyalty, and refusal to double cross anyone. Even those who might resent her success or attractiveness had a hard time finding any other flaws.

Beverly knew all that, and knew she would need it all today. At 31 years old, she couldn't bank on either her youth or experience, but she would have to persuade the brass behind the double doors that she had both.

Beverly left no doubt choosing her wardrobe: high, wispy heels, black, designer pants, a white, form-fitting tunic, and a black, bolero jacket.

An assistant finally ushered her in the room to face twelve aging white men, a matronly widow, and a severe-looking brunette with a long ponytail. She was about ten years older then Beverly and research showed she would be the toughest customer today. She was the sort who worked herself nearly to the top, then slammed the door behind her.

Beverly willed her exploding nervous system to calm, muttered, "Showtime" under her breath, and strode in with no briefcase, purse, or papers in her hand, only the tiny PowerPoint control button she'd had designed especially to loop between two of her fingers and rest in her palm. She pressed the switch and the screen came to life with the Freedom First Bank logo, which immediately burst into animated flames. Everyone's heads jerked, and a couple of the Board members started rising from their chairs.

"Seeing that on the Internet made me furious," said Beverly, causing the two Board members to settle back into their seats. "Lets talk about how to stop this kind of disgrace. I don't know about you but this makes my blood boil, and with that she slid out of her cutoff jacket and tossed it toward a chair so quickly and naturally it seemed like the only logical move the presenter could make.

"We all know these past few months have felt like waking barefoot through coals on fire," said Beverly, clicking through a series of downward spiraling graphs. As she ambled back and forth in the front of the room dominated by a huge, mahogany table, she flicked the buckles on her heels to discard her shoes, and hopped as though on a hot floor, just enough to make a point but with enough professional reserve so that her theatrics were barely noticeable.

Beverly quickly turned to the side so no one would notice her take a deep, breath to prepare her for the next part of the speech.

"We need to face reality," she said, trembling hands heading for the waistband of her hip huggers. "The fact is, we've gotten caught with our pants down," and with that, she deftly slipped off a couple of hooks and stepped out of her slacks. Beverly kept confidently delivering her presentation, but inside her brain was screaming. Her tunic covered her like the shortest dress in the world, but taking off her pants in front of the leaders of the bank definitely crossed the line between showbiz and, well, something unheard of in the Boardroom.

She was sure everyone could see her knees violently shaking, but her skinny white legs moved fluidly as she stepped assuredly, just as she'd rehearsed, back and forth in front of the room.

"We have to act now," said Beverly, fingers flying to the four buttons near her neck, "or we'll lose our shirts." In a flash her top shot up over her head and disappeared into a corner. The move lifted and dropped her hair, but a lightning-fast shake of her head put every strand back in place. No one noticed details like that, however. Instead, in the front of the room their presenter now faced them with shoulders covered only by a thin, bra strap. Her breasts pushed up from the middle of her chest under modest, flesh-colored cups. Her torso narrowed to a tiny circle of a waist and her white stomach concaved into the band of her brief matching silk panties—it was obvious her 4 a.m. routine was on exercise machines rather than a tanning bed.

The Board members were shocked speechless. But even the with extreme surprise and Beverly's good looks, she knew she only had a few seconds before someone would come back to their senses and stop the show. Her next move had to be bold enough to keep them off-balance, but she also needed to get the Board's collective brain off of sex and back to business.

"Our best option right now is to merge with The People's First Bank."

Beverly knew that proposal would jolt any of the Board members out of any sexual fantasy. People's First was First Freedom's inner-city rival. The Board hated People's First in every way possible. It was probably the only thing that could pull their minds off of Beverly's striptease.

But she couldn't afford to have them thinking very long. She was ready with another quick punch. And that had every one of Beverly's nerve endings searing. Her next moves were insane, and the only way she could go through with them was a result of the endless practice sessions that prepared her for this moment.

"Our scandals and mismanagement have been exposed to the public," she said, unhooking the front clasp of her bra and letting it drop. In almost the same motion she pushed her panties down and walked out of them as nonchalantly as stepping out of an elevator. "The audits and investigations have exposed us and left us as naked to the world as I am to you right now."

She was a vision at the front of the room. Though her breasts were not large, they stuck straight out, like small artillery shells, but made of Jell-O as they quivered with each breath and word that moved her chest. Between her legs a few wisps of light hair didn't come close to concealing the thin dark line where her labia skin folded inside.

Beverly knew she looked good, and she was counting on that to stave off the shock that could turn to outrage over her outrageous breach of decorum, for at least a few more seconds until she could finish her sales pitch.

She forced her thin, white legs to begin a stroll around the enormous table, continuing her speech as she passed by each board member.

"If we don't try something different, were dead. Out of business. I don't think anyone in this room wants that." She delivered her patter as though fully clothed, trying to bridge the gap between the content of what she was saying, and the incredible sight of the nude beauty circling the meeting room. "In the same way I've just done something unthinkable, we need to take off the things that are keeping us from staying alive."

Beverly could almost feel the intensity of the stares from the board members along her back and caressing her rump, stroking her nipples and diddling into her vagina, as she completed her circuit and returned to the front of the room.

"Before you call security," she said, knowing it had probably only occurred to the pony tailed board member, "ask yourself why I would do something as unprofessional as stand before you without a stitch of clothes on." Beverly spread her arms wide, subtly poking her tits and snatch boardward, in the process of stretching, using the backs of her hands to give her bright blonde mane an alluring flounce.

"Why would I risk what you know is a hard-earned reputation? I realize I could very well walk out of this room a laughing stock, my career ruined." She kept her body spread-eagled, giving the old men something to remember for a long time. She knew that would be worth at least a couple of votes for her proposal. But she kept her eyes locked on the ponytail, for a specific appeal to convert her. "I'm taking this chance to show you in the most dramatic way possible that I care about this bank every bit as much as you do. Please consider talking to People's First and save Freedom First."

Her speech over, Beverly grabbed the trench coat she'd arranged to be on the coat rack in the corner, to avoid ruining her exit with an undignified struggle to get her clothes back on, slipped her arms into the sleeves and took her blonde hair out of the board room that stayed in a stunned silence until the door closed behind her.

Beverly walked briskly, flushed and focused, along the hallways and to the elevator, avoiding the gawking from the desks and cubicles, as she rushed by, bare feet sticking out from under an overcoat. She finally reached her office, shut the door, collapsed in her chair, pulled a glass and bottle of vodka from the back of a lower drawer, and gulped two fingers worth.

She still felt the warmth from the alcohol in her veins just a few minutes later when the chairman of the board knocked twice and entered the office.

"Congratulations," he said. "The board voted thirteen to one to pursue merger talks with People's First Bank. As the new director of the accounting department, you need to arrange to make a joint presentation to both boards as soon as possible."

He left, closing the door behind him, and Beverly smiled at her winning vote, her promotion, and at the board's desire for her to make another presentation.