The Red Dress - Listen to the Podcast Giving in gracefully. The red dress should do the trick, thinks Stella; it’s certainly come up trumps before. Why she should have to go to the hassle of dolling herself up is another question altogether. This is the 1990s for goodness sake, For a woman to get taken seriously when building a business is an uphill struggle, trying to organise financing a nightmare. Countless boring ‘interviews’ with stale, pale men who belittle or dismiss her suggestions. Thinking presentation important in this supposedly serious commercial world Stella initially tries prim and proper ensembles to create a respectable impression. Sadly this proves pointless, she can tell by their asinine questions the sexist pigs haven’t bothered to read her profit projections. “Now what would a pretty young thing like you know about…” Because of a first class marketing degree and glowing placement assessments duh! One day, in a rush, Stella dons a skirt a little shorter and tighter than of late and observes the identikit man in a suit continually ogling her bum during their meeting. A loan is swiftly arranged and the penny drops. These middle-aged, mediocre managers aren’t interested in her ideas so Stella might as well play them for fools. She dresses up to the nines, low neckline to reveal a Wonderbra (best invention of the ‘90s?) enhanced cleavage. Flaunts thighs, flashes stocking tops, demeanour a mix of teasing and wide-eyed naivety. Plays down to their expectations, flirts, flatters and cajoles. So easy, so predictable, and of course it works. She can put up with leers, and gropes as long as they advance the funds. Stella makes her confident entrance into yet another office: figure hugging red dress, long auburn hair, a killer combination. Hang on, this isn’t right, where’s the usual old bloke? A handsome - younger than expected - man behind the desk correctly interprets her bemused expression. “You were expecting Mr Mannering, he’s on gardening leave,” explains the new incumbent. “I’m his stand-in, do please take a seat. Max Pemberton, pleased to meet you.” “And judging by your expression, not happy to be here? Stella Mills by the way, but you already know that”. “Well to be truthful I do find this place rather boring,” he responds with a wry smile, “although my employers have booked me into a very pleasant boutique hotel.” Might he be one of these new men she’s read about in the Sunday papers, wonders Stella? Reputed to exist in cities, unseen out here in the sticks. Better not take anything for granted, safer to give the usual performance. Stella flashes a dazzling smile, crosses shapely legs and dangles a high-heeled shoe from her foot. “So you’re a troubleshooter?” “Definitely not,” Max answers emphatically, ‘I usually deal with corporate concerns, just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and got lumbered, not that it’s a burden to encounter you of course.“ I like this woman, thinks Max, feisty, attractive, and goodness those legs, most distracting. The feeling is mutual, Stella, similarly impressed, already detects an emerging spark between them. Arousal is in the air. “This town was voted one of Britain’s best places to live, perhaps I can give you a tour, show you some interesting places?” she suggests archly. Max can certainly think of sites he’d like to see. Get a grip man. “The previous manager’s unorthodox methods involved some very preferential loans to certain cronies, you excepted”, he adds hastily. “Perhaps you’d like to show me the financial projections to support your application?” Oh Mr City Slicker you’re actually quite dishy, and better still taking me seriously, thinks Stella, pushing a sheaf of papers towards him. “I just need a small amount of extra capital…” Twenty minutes later the deal is done, her request approved. “Entirely on its professionally presented merits,” reveals Max. Stella’s genuine expression of delight is however curtailed as he continues. “So your super