"Next! Oh there you are, come in dear, I don't have all day." The woman clicked her tongue as she gestured for her next interviewee, hopefully her last of the godforsaken day because she was starting to feel nauseous after dozens of the same tired pitch. When she was growing up, a job interview was more a formality in this field, but now she had an entire fucking bingo card to tick off before a candidate was deemed worthy for the position. This led to what 42 year old Sandra Parry could only describe as the most grating 6 hours of her professional life. She led the last candidate into her office with the vaguest notion of professional demeanour, her mind stuck on the cigarette awaiting her in the parking lot once she's done. 

"Name?" She had it somewhere, but her desk was complete disorder. It looked as though she had started some kind of passionate tryst in there and hastily thrown the discarded files back onto her desk, but reality was far less steamy. 

"Rose Grew, Ma'am, I'm looking forward to getting to know each other more." The young twenty-something on the other side of her desk was certainly eager, with confidence to back it up. 

Sandra cocked her head to the side and shot Rose a stern look that seemed almost penetrative. "Oh are you now? Well let's stop with that Ma'am shite, okay hon? I'm barely old enough to be your mother, so please just call me Sandra. Or Mrs. Parry, if you are so inclined as to polish my boot with your tongue like so many of your predecessors this afternoon."

This choice verbiage caused Rose to smirk, tilting her head to hide it as best as she could. Licking her boots, hm? No, that wasn't quite right. "Very well then, Sandra it is. In the spirit of learning more about one another, I must admit that I myself am more partial to Rose than 'hon'. Oh but do go ahead and call me Miss Grew. My heels could do with a shine since you mention it..." 

Mrs. Parry was taken aback. She was hoping for a less boring interview, but this was blatant disrespect which would not sit well with the prideful older woman. The interviewer shifted in her chair before sitting up, only to be silenced before she could speak by another transgression from the outlandish Miss Grew. "What... what do you think you're doing?"

Rose grinned wider, flexing her toes in those glossy, open heels of hers as she kicked her feet up onto the edge of Sandra's desk. "Hm? I'm getting comfortable of course, how are you supposed to conduct a productive interview if I'm not relaxed? You should be relaxed too, no? You look so tense Sandra, please sit back I insist." 

Before she could protest to the obvious violation of respect, Sandra was caught off guard by a distracting scent, the origin of which remained a mystery to her for the time being. She felt slightly lightheaded for a moment, enough to cause her body to collapse back into the chair, unintentionally obliging with Rose's suggestion. "Did... did you drug me?" 

"What on earth would make you ask such a silly question, Ma'am?" Rose chuckled, slipping those redolent feet from her high heels and pushing herself closer to the desk, letting her bare soles hang in the compromised air between her and Mrs. Parry. "You're clearly not thinking straight, so just take a deep breath and relax. Can you do that for me, hon?" 

Sandra slowly nodded, inhaling the strange odour that had been tickling her nose since the one sided interview began and seeming to relax almost instantly. Like the panic had just evaporated... like she knew that Rose had this interview under control. Strangely, she began to stare at those bare feet dangling less than a yard away from her face, were they supposed to be there? She started to realise she didn't care... they were pretty. Or at least, Rose told her they were. What a smart young lady... much more educated than the rest of the hacks she had the displeasure of wasting her afternoon on. 

Rose scrunched her toes and Sandra seemed to wilt, focusing on nothing but each needy inhale of that wonderous scent and the words that she seemed to forget were said the moment they're spoken. Slowly, the feet inch closer to her waiting face and Sandra starts to think a little less. Less and less... and less and less, until all she can think about... is her next inhale. 

"And when my feet finally touch your face, you're going to become completely lost in me, only my words will break past the scent, only my words will reach your blank little mind. You understand, don't you Sandra?"

A long pause fills the room, before the words spill predictably from Sandra Parry's drooling lips. 

"Yes, Miss Grew..."