As she was about to straighten up, she heard a small, chirping sound behind her. She smiled and maintained her position.

“There it is,” Jamie Shields said, running a warm hand over her buttocks. “Shining like the morning sun.” He lifted her skirt and pulled down her panties. “Is it wet this morning?” he asked Hattie.

“You know it is,” she replied, moving to the touch of his hand, then to the touch of something even warmer.

He slid into her from behind. “What a wonderful way to start the day,” he breathed, as he established a rhythm.

Hattie shortly did what she did two or three times a week: She came in a series of snorts and cries, grabbing hold of the fax machine for support. The papers in her hand fell and scattered as Jamie joined her chorus.

Five minutes later, when the other workers began to arrive, Jamie was at his desk at the other end of the room, and Hattie was on her hands and knees, scooping up the stack of faxes that had slipped from her grasp.

“What’s going on?” her boss asked sharply.

“Nothing, Mr. Peterson,” Hattie said, her search interrupted before she could see the single sheet of paper that had landed under the fax machine. “I just dropped the morning faxes.”

“Deal with them at once,” Peterson said grumpily.

“Yes, sir,” Hattie replied, taking her seat at her desk. Coffee would have to wait. She stacked the papers evenly and ran through them quickly. All were copies of transfers wired that morning or during the night from banks around the world. Except one sheet, which was a request for notification. One hour after opening time, she was to fax a number in Switzerland, to report receipt of a transfer of 750,000 euros from Manhattan Trust in New York. If the funds were received into the St. George’s account, she was to immediately forward them to an account in the Swiss Bank, holding out only the fifty-dollar transfer fee. If the transfer from New York had not arrived, she was to report that fact to the Swiss Bank.

She went through the other sheets again; the transfer had not arrived. She checked her watch: twenty minutes before nine. She opened her coffee. Plenty of time to have breakfast before checking the fax machine again at nine. She began to munch her sandwich and sip her coffee.

At nine o’clock, she checked the fax machine again. A number of other transfers had arrivied, but not the one from Manhattan Trust. She opened a fax form in her computer and typed a short message: “Subject: wire transfer, 750,000 euros, from Manhattan Trust not received. Please inform client.” She moved the cursor to the send button and clicked. This whole business would have been easier if her bosses had completed the computer setup that would handle everything automatically, but they were waiting for the end of the fiscal year to spend the money.