His jaw dropped. Suddenly, mama cat got in on the action, claws flaring and teeth sinking into his flesh. He really wanted to say something, but not only had his throat locked up, but his mind had sealed itself off in a fallout shelter. He desperately searched for a way to react.

Alexandra smiled at him coyly. “You didn’t answer, but I assume you’re OK with this.” Her hands flowed from her solar plexus down past her waist.

Finally he forced out a word. “Answer?”

“I asked if you minded if I took off my clothes.” She cocked her head slightly. “Come to think of it, I’m not sure you were aware I had entered.”

He managed to draw a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be disrespectful.”

She flashed him a coquettish smile. “It’s OK; I have this effect on men. I’m used to it.”

Richard slowly collected his wits from where they had scattered all over the room and slipped under the furniture. Desperate to say something, he finally decided to say anything. “So, do you get naked like this often?”

She giggled shyly. “I’ve done this at our protests. It stops the cops in their tracks; they have no idea how to react, and it gives our side a tactical advantage.” She glanced demurely at the ground before continuing. “I also undress at work. I’m a waitress down at Cahoots.”

He looked as thoughtful as he could muster. “Cahoots? I’ve heard of that. Is it a strip club?”

She threw him some playful shade. “No, the ladies do not strip…we start out naked to begin with. You’ve heard of topless bars…we prefer to call ourselves a bottomless establishment.”

“And you don’t mind that?” he asked, fighting to keep his eyes locked on her face, though his willpower had not only failed, but was dancing a happy jig through a public fountain as respectable citizens strolled by with disapproving glares.

She smirked. “I find it empowering. After all, guys basically turn into drooling morons when I’m naked around them.”

“I see,” he remarked, with as much seriousness as he could scrape together from the desiccated remains of his self-control.

She gave him a roguish frown. “The classic phrase would be ‘my eyes are up here’, but I don’t mind.” She stepped forward and put one dainty foot on the edge of his desk. “Is this better?”

Richard had never been hypnotized, not by a psychologist, not even at a nightclub, but he imagined this to be what it felt like. His peripheral vision blurred into a dark gray as his eyes, his attention, and an excessive portion of his cranial blood flow, all focused on her pearled oyster. Perfectly shaved, tightly curved…it could have been an artist’s idealistic creation, if not for the very much flesh-and-blood woman standing before him. It formed the denouement of her hourglass figure, swooping down from an epic pair of gravity-defying breasts and onward to her smooth, lithe legs. As a shred of conscious thought returned to him, he concluded the fantastic condition of her body was either a sign of youth, yoga, or good genes, or more likely, all three, with perhaps a Faustian bargain tossed in. He was suddenly hungry for brunch. She offered a side of her with nothing on it, the steam trays overflowed with the dish of the day — and he knew what he’d like to feast upon for the next hour or so.

“Magnificent,” he somehow managed to croak.

She put her leg down and beheld him comfortingly with her eyes. “Now, tell me…how did that make you feel?”

“Great,” he proclaimed.

“Well, sure, but can you go into more detail? Great how?”

Richard struggled to find words. “Relaxed…joyful…energetic…soaring confidence…I feel like I could take on the world right now, and if it wasn’t in the mood to fight, I’d goad it mercilessly until it lashed out at me.”

“Exactly.” She swayed seductively as she stepped back and sat down on the chair. “Women have this effect on men, and men are better for it. I truly believe this insight could change the world.”

He took his eyes off her voluptuous breasts to shoot her a startled look. “It what?”

“See, I’ve had this theory for some time,” she began as she crossed her legs. Richard silently breathed a sigh of relief; he might pass out at any second, and welcomed a break from the statuesque onslaught.

“Consider that the Internet is mostly a medium for the delivery of pornography. I believe that’s meaningful, a sign of a greater truth.”

Her argument held a slightly larger portion of his attention than her bare skin. “How do you mean?”

“In other words, it shows us what men really want, what occupies an incredible portion of their attention. Perhaps that’s a clue to humankind’s next level of ascendance.”

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Richard was unsettled enough to focus on her eyes. “Female nudity as enlightenment?”

“Exactly!” she trilled. “Consider how much brain power men expend, mentally undressing the attractive women around them. But if the women around them were all naked, all the time, then they could save that energy. Their minds would be freed up for other purposes.” She flashed a smug smile as she adjusted herself in the seat. “I believe this could unleash a dramatic renaissance of scientific invention and artistic creativity.”

Richard didn’t respond. “So, what do you think?” she prompted.

He shrugged brightly, the little head firmly in charge. “I think it deserves to be given a chance!” he gushed. Anything to convince her to be naked frequently.

“I think so, too.” Her self-satisfaction spilled out and overwhelmed the expression on her face. “And no doubt, the most beautiful women would naturally end up in charge. Men will willingly do anything a pretty lady tells them to. So we could all look forward to a massive shakeup of the ruling class.” Her eyes shone with revelation. “Finally, I’d assume my natural position in the world! I could decide who lived and who died!”

“Huh.” The darkness in her dictatorial glint gave him the shivers.

She shivered too. “It’s awfully cold in here. Could you turn down the air conditioning for me?”

“Oh…right.” He reached over and switched it off. The fading noise revealed an awkward silence. “So…when did you first develop this theory?”

“I’ve been toying with it during work, seeing how the boys fawn over me, but it really came to a head during the recent street protests. In the past, I’ve marched with groups like Free The Nipple and Go Topless, but it was when I started going completely nude that things really got moving. The path from yoni power to world domination is now clear to me.”

“So…recently, then. During the summer.”

She rubbed her hands over her skin, goose bumps holding massive inter-service drills on a shapely battlefield. “What’s your point?”

“It’s just that, you may find your philosophy faltering as soon as the weather cools. And how would this work in somewhere like Minnesota?”

Her gaze fell into a sullen glare. “Interesting,” she snarled. She scooped her robe off the floor and wrapped herself in it. Richard felt her eyes cut him up like a washed-up teppanyaki chef working in a mall’s food court. A chill descended over the office, one that had nothing to do with air conditioning.

“So…you had some information for me?” Richard prompted.

“Oh, right.” Alexandra blinked unsteadily. “I feel I can’t trust the other members of Harmony, and wanted to tell you this in private.”

Richard has his notepad open and his pen raised. “I’m ready when you are.”

“First,” she hissed, “there’s J.R. He’s big, hairy, and icky, and it’s really odd that he keeps trying to play saxophone.”

Richard paused writing. “Uh…”

Alexandra continued. “I mean, he’s good at the actual playing and stuff, but saxophonists need to be sexy leading men, and he’s anything but! I keep telling him he should stick to his primary instrument — it suits him better.”

“And that is?” Richard asked, his pen hovering over his notepad.

“The tuba, obviously. And then there’s Fabian. He’s nice enough, and his beard is cute, and he brings me coffee and stuff…but he always asks me to pay for it!” She glared at Richard incredulously. “Can you believe I should be expected to pay for anything?!”

“Um…” Richard mumbled. He lowered his pen to the desk.

“And then there’s Darian,” she declared, her face wrinkling. “I mean, he obviously wants me, but I’m like so sure. He is way too much of a creepy dweeb!” She fixed her eyes on Richard again. “Seriously, could you see him and me…together?”

“What about George?” Richard asked with no interest.

Alexandra grimaced. “Ew! He’s old! If old guys want me, they need to be rich.”

Richard pressed his frontal sinus area with his forefingers, trying to stanch a headache in progress. “What does any of this have to do with Saint’s death?”

“Well, clearly,” she huffed, “these guys all have unrequited feelings for me, but won’t express them. That kind of repression can only lead to an emotional outburst! Men are such stupid drooling animals — that makes them very dangerous, but really easy to figure out.”

“So…” Richard began slowly, “you think they might be killers because they’re not worthy to have you?”

“Well, yeah,” she sniffed, her gaze making it clear she considered that conclusion too obvious to warrant explanation.

Richard blinked. “Thank you for your information, miss Alexandra. Now, if…”

“Schermerhorn,” she clarified. “Alexandra Schermerhorn. My last name is Dutch for ‘royal horn’.”

“Of course it is.” He put away his notepad. “Now, if you have nothing further, I have a lot of work to do…chasing down these leads.”

She brightened visibly as she blushed. “Thank you.” She rose to leave. “I just know you’ll find the culprit.”

He watched her as she left, but her swaying hips only stirred up visions of circling sharks.

As the door closed, he buried his face in his hand. Harmony was a toddler’s temper tantrum masquerading as revolution. The real question, to him, was who didn’t want Saint killed. Richard would have been fine with killing them all right now, but killing customers was bad for business.

Alexandra had the sort of face and body that could launch a thousand ships. Good thing she had her personality to keep the boats in drydock.