“My brassiere is un-hooked,” murmured the sultry voice on the other end of the line. “It’s purple and see-through and silky soft, and I’m going to let it slip from my breasts very, very slowly. If we didn’t have these two phones between us, you could see my nipples peeking over the edge right about now.”

I was at my desk in the big New York law firm where I work. We’d had a whole new phone system installed that week, and although it was supposed to be state-of-the-art, the bugs hadn’t been worked out yet. This wasn’t the first call I’d gotten that was meant for somebody else, but without a doubt it was the most interesting. I know I should have informed this sexy-voiced young female that she had reached the wrong number.

So sue me — I... Read More