Oh, dammit, I'm not good at this.” Suddenly, her bluster was gone. “Won't you sit down?”I did. I looked at her, waiting for her to continue. ...She was staring at the screen-saver on her computer monitor, playing absent-mindedly with a wisp of her hair that was draped over her chest. She took a deep breath, and then broke into a weak smile.“That's probably the worst job I've done introducing myself since I was about twelve,” she said. “May I start over?”I stood up, smiled, and extended my. Less than a minute later, Heather tapped lightly on the door and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. Margaret and I both greeted her and Margaret asked her to sit in the chair opposite the one I was in, in front of Margaret's desk. She sat and primly crossed her legs like a woman usually does. I glanced at her legs and noticed that there were no tell-tale lines from hair on them. 'He must shave them to feel more lady-like.' I thought to myself.Margaret asked Heather, "When we. More

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