Monday morning finally arrived. Pauline Tagerson, dressed in what she hoped would pass as a conservative business dress, made some final adjustments in the bathroom mirror. Her red hair didn't shine in the light, but her green eyes were like lasers, inspecting all aspects of her appearance. The dark blue vest did lessen the impact of Pauline's 32H bustline. Provided that the vest stayed on, no-one could say for certain just how large she was upstairs.

Taking the car this morning, Pauline drove to the Blossoming Bodies store. Waiting for her in the parking lot was her attorney, Edward Coopersmith. "Good morning, Edward," she said. "Ready to hand out the paperwork?"

Edward brandished the suitcase he was carrying. "Yes, but before we go inside, let me ask you again. Are you still sure this is something you want to do?"

"I'm as certain now as I was back Saturday. No amount of out-of-court settlement money is going to change my mind. Stores such as Blossoming Bodies don't deserve to be on Terra."

"As long as you're certain, Pauline, and willing to stay the course. Let's go." With Pauline at his side, Edward went through the main entrance. At the reception desk the duo found the capable Miss Challman waiting for them. "Good morning," said the pleasant woman. "How may I be of help?"

Edwards handed Challman a plasvid business card. "I'm Edward Coopersmith, Attorney- at-Law. The manager, Allison Eddings, is expecting me and my client, Mrs Pauline Tagerson." He motioned to the well-dressed woman standing next to him.

"Mrs Eddings is waiting in her office." Challman stood up and pressed a button on her desk. "Please follow me."

The door to Allison's office was already open. Ushered inside, Edward expected to see a frivolous, overbusted woman. What the man saw instead wrecked his preconceived notion. The Blossoming Bodies manager had delicious light brown hair that framed her youthful, expressive face. Eyes as green as emeralds beamed joviality despite the formality of the meeting. Edward found himself stealing a glance at Allison's full blouse. He was nudged by Pauline to remember the purpose of the meeting. "Good morning, Mrs Eddings," said the lawyer, his eyes inadvertently straying over Allison's bust again. "Before I go on, is your legal representative here?"

"He is, Mr Coopersmith." Allison turned on her office tri-dee projector. A life-sized image of Mr Prokhal, the store's lawyer, appeared a hand-span away from Coopersmith. A bit startled, Coopersmith's stepped backward, his elbow poking Pauline in the chest. Knowing he would receive a reproachful look from his client, Coopersmith focused on the tri-dee image instead.

"I'm Mr Prokhal," said the holographic man. "On behalf of my client, I'm asking you if your client has changed her mind."

"She has not," replied Coopersmith. He opened his briefcase and produced a file pad, placing it on Allison's desk. "This is formal notice of my client's suit against your establishment. We are suing this franchise of Blossoming Bodies for negligence and improper coding of a nanite-based product."

Allison picked up the file pad and read the contents on the built-in screen. The holographic image of Prokhal walked over to the desk and looked as well. "It appears to be in order," said Prokhal. "We'll be in touch."

"Certainly," said Coopersmith as he again gazed unconsciously at Allison's blouse. "Good day."

"Good day to you as well," replied Allison, noting the position of Coopersmith's eyes. After the inadvertent lecher and his short, redheaded client left, Allison turned to her lawyer. "What are our chances in court?"

Prokhal's image reflected his contemplative look. "Based on what happened, they can't get us for gross negligence. The press generated from this lawsuit, however, will be the major concern."

Allison nodded, then stood up with a sly grin on her face. "Well then, we'd better make sure that the newsies get good shots of one Allison Eddings. What would look better for the cameras? The Outback business woman casual halter top with ten-centimeter cleavage, or a New Sardinia chest-hugging skin blouse?"

Pauline arrived at work and made for her office, walking as if nothing had changed. Despite the discomfort, she kept the vest on, diving into the usual set of tasks. She hoped her business-as- usual attitude would hold off the indirect questions from her co-workers for the time being. She reasoned there would be time later for a proper explanation for her co-workers' benefit.

A knock on the doorframe brought Pauline's attention out of her dutiful work. "Good morning, Sunshine," said Hazel as she stepped in the office. "Got some great news for your Monday."

"Great news from you usually involves something dreary," replied Pauline. "I've been elected to do the monthly office supply run?"

"If only you were so lucky. Carl is sick. Want to guess who has to make his presentation for the monthly staff meeting?"

Feeling as if butterflies were now in her stomach, Pauline's sheer effort of will kept her face from showing her anxiety. "No skin off my nose. I'm the one who prepares his reports anyway. Want me to save you a donut?"

"No thanks. I'm trying to cut down on the fat. Speaking of fat," Hazel gazed at Pauline's vest, "that outfit makes you look big upstairs. Is this your idea of a power business suit?"

"Something like that. Jealous?" The reply was typical Pauline, but the redhead was sweating on the inside.

Hazel smirked. "Bet you have enough foam in that vest to make a life preserver."

"If my breasts were big enough to fill out the vest this way, then I wouldn't need a life preserver." Pauline's giggling was shared by Hazel. By making light of her vest, the pneumatically-enhanced redhead hoped to satisfy her friend's curiosity.

Glancing down at the dermal watch face on her wrist, Hazel took note of the time. "The meeting is at ten. Better prepare for your report. See you at lunch."

"Okay. Later." Pauline watched her friend leave, then settled down in her chair. She felt the butterflies in the stomach being replaced by a molten mass of leaden doom. The next ninety minutes might as well have been an eternity.

As if things couldn't get any worse for the accidentally inflated Pauline, the staff meeting was moved to a new room. The manager at Pauline's workplace, Mr Welton, had decided to hold the meeting in an informal setting. One of the employee lounges was selected, and as the various department representatives took their seats Pauline kept the folder she was carrying close to her chest. Then a new thought came about in her brain. If the setting was to be informal, then . . .

"Since this is going to be a casual meeting," said Welton as he draped his suit jacket on the back of his chair, "let everyone take off their jackets and vests. The cold air in this room will keep everyone awake. Having a warm vest would just make everyone nod off." Welton playfully winked at the meeting attendees. "Sleep on your time, not mine."

Looks as if I'll be explaining myself much earlier than I expected, Pauline thought as she undid the buttons on her vest. I'll tell everyone here about my 'additions' if Welton asks about them. Now that the breast-filled blouse was free of the vest, Pauline observed the reactions of her co-workers.

For an instant, it was as if a bucket of ice water was poured over the heads of everyone in the room. Many thought it was the coffee they drank earlier. They knew Pauline wasn't that big upstairs, not after the times they had watched her play volleyball at company picnics. Orbs the size of cantaloupes couldn't be kept hidden forever. The co-workers were sure Pauline's unexpected breasts hadn't sprouted overnight.

The hot lead in Pauline's stomach began to churn as she interpreted the body language of her co-workers. For all the men knew, the breasts could've been real, made of plastiskin, -- or the redhead had filled her bra with tissue paper. It didn't matter, for the ever-so-brief, lustful, leering glances the men made clearly showed their base drives were working overtime. Some unfortunates experienced trouser trauma, making the deployment of filepads over their crotches a critical necessity.

For the women in the room, there was a range of emotions. The sight of Pauline's frontage embarrassed some, while others were simply startled. One woman sneered in gut reaction, while another gasped in astonishment. Daring a direct look at Welton, Pauline swore she was seeing a stone wall instead of a man. The utter lack of expression was far more disconcerting for the redhead than the blushing and leering.

Welton's voice broke the tension in the room. "Mrs Tagerson, would you do us the honor of presenting your report first?"

"Certainly, Mr Welton." Steeling herself, Pauline stood up straight. The blouse material stretched over her breasts, confirming their size for everyone's benefit. With all eyes turned on her, literally trying to see through the blouse she wore, Pauline gave her report like nothing had changed. She knew that once the meeting was over all bets were off on what was going to happen to her next.

TO BE CONTINUED