Why is he here? 

Something didn’t feel right. Grace followed him and approached the guard. 

“I’m sorry, Miss, but access here is restricted. Can I help you with something?” the guard said. He appeared to be in his late twenties and apparently spent significant time in the gym. He had a muscular physique, brown hair, and eyes. The man couldn’t resist noticing Grace, not just because she was attractive, to begin with, but because she had allowed her natural talents to influence him. 

“Yes, you can,” she said, reaching out one of her hands and putting it on his chest. The guard almost jumped from her touch.

“What can I do to you? I mean, for you?” he fumbled his words.

“I have a friend upstairs, and I need to see her. We were college schoolmates, and I miss her so much,” she purred, rubbing her hand across his chest.

The guard swallowed, and his mouth went dry. 

“I’m sorry, miss, but you don’t have the proper ID to come up here.” He was staring at her chest. Grace was not wearing an ID, but more than one button on her blouse had opened, causing him to look harder for an ID he would not find.

“I will only be a few minutes, and when I find my friend, she can show you her ID. Will that be OK? My friend and I were always mistaken in college for sisters because we looked sooo much alike.” Grace was pouring it on, and she could tell the guard was breaking. She put her other hand on his arm, and he inhaled.

“OK, OK. Hurry before I change my mind.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. I am sure my friend will thank you too later.” Grace puckered her lips and blew a kiss in his ear as she ascended the stairs.