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Cherry had only worked for Steve Douglas for ten months. He was an aerospace engineer who managed other engineers and aerodynamics projects to ensure they all were working on the same page. Cherry didn't know too terribly much about Mr. Douglas except that he was a widower. They met casually through some friends. Cherry often complained about her boring, underpaid job as a secretary for an attorney's office. Steve had been rejoicing with a buddy over drinks about the recent retirement of his stuffy old bag of a secretary who had finally retired after 32 loyal years. Finally and thank God! Steve often labored over why she had to work thirty-two years and not just thirty. If for that, he could have avoided the agony of the past two years. He was so tired of the disapproving glances that old Ms. Hightower darted at him when he'd cut out for an early lunch or a game of golf. He boasted to his buddy, half sauced, that this time, he was going to hire a cute little thing that was pleasant to look at. Steve's buddy immediately thought of Cherry Brady, who hung out with his wife all the time. Although Steve said he was just kidding, his good buddy couldn't resist inviting them both to a local sports bar for cocktails after work the next day. This is where Steve Douglas met Cherry.
