EXCERPT from HEMMED

"What are you doing?" screeched the woman.

"I'm just fixing the hem, ma'am," said the gentleman. "I need for you to just open your legs a bit so that I can be sure everything will fall properly once we have it fixed for you."

"I've never had anyone ask me that."

"I'll be right back," he smiled. "Don't move."

He left the dressing room, and she stepped off the small dais. Don't move? She was uncomfortable having stood there for almost an hour. He fixed everything about the new suit and then fixed it again. She didn't mind that her tailor was a male. After all, she suspected he was gay.

But the way his fingertips brushed her breasts and the inside of her thigh made her question everything. Now, asking her to open her legs wider for the hem of a straight skirt seemed absurd!

She stepped back, glancing at herself in the mirror. Turning, she liked the way the suit fit her and was pleased with her choice of fabric. At the bottom of the skirt was a small red dot.

"What on earth," she whispered. She brushed the skirt, but there was nothing there. Standing up again, she saw the dot one more time.

Slowly, she walked toward the dais, looking down at the tiled top. The red dot was coming from within the tile. It was a camera. A camera was beneath the tile. Kneeling down, she pressed her face against the tile, then stood quickly, tearing the zipper at the back. Just as she stood, he reentered the room.

"Oh, no. Now look what you've done."