Her week at mountain mansion

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Tall and blonde, beautiful Cherie Daventry, the youngest secretary with the Intercorp business group this week, was getting to know her way around the big house after being there for twenty-four hours, learning to find the cosy room they had given her overlooking the swimming pool that was built in the atrium of the house, getting to know the twisting and turning of the halls that led to the many rooms where the executives and the secretaries were staying during this most important business week of the year, trying to establish a friendly relationship with her colleagues, most of whom she had known only very superficially, if at all, a few days before.

This was the week that the executives of the powerful Intercorp Trading Company got together in the seclusion of the San Bernardino Mountains and brainstormed on methods to improve business in the coming year. The men brought the best stenographers from the secretarial pool and met daily around the great mahogany table in the large, warm, and comfortable conference room downstairs to make suggestions, air complaints, and generally toss around ideas that could make trading more efficient and profitable. The secretaries were always on hand with stenography books and were lodged in an adjoining, but separate, wing of the house. Not that the men and women were that rigidly separated. The way the girls were given their own section was more to make them feel comfortable than to create a wall. Cherie was sure there was at least some mixing going on when it suited two people, though they must generally be discreet meetings that occurred, for the young nineteen-year-old had only noticed one definite romance.

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