A funny thing happened to me at the office yesterday, and I thought I'd share it with you.

Some of you may know that I work full time for the Dept of Defense. I supervise a team of twelve folks, and we've recently begun a new initiative where we actively recruit young people straight out of college and put them through a rigorous 3-year training program. The intent is that these young people will gain the skills and knowledge necessary to replace our aging workforce. These young people are referred to as Keystones (interns, really).

Last week, I was advised by our HR folks that I would be getting a new Keystone employee on my team. Aside from his name, I knew nothing about him, so I called him at home to welcome him to the Agency and answer any questions he might have. We chatted for about ten minutes, and my overall impression was that this guy was very young...probably no more than 22 years old. He sounded nervous and uncertain, and all of my maternal instincts came to the surface as I assured him that I would take good care of him.

Toward the end of our conversation, he indicated that he had one more question, but that it had nothing to do with business.

"Are you the same Karen Foley who writes those books?"

I just about dropped the phone, and after stammering and stuttering for a few seconds, I asked him why he would ask me such a question. He said that he lived with his mom, who is an avid reader, and he saw a book on the coffee table with a bare-chested guy on the cover, and my name directly above it. In the next instant, he laughed and said, "Forget it; I knew it was just coincidence. You probably don't even like books."

You cannot imagine my inner struggle at that moment. All I could think was, "I don't want his mom getting the wrong idea about the kind of person her son is going to be working for!"

I suddenly felt very old. I wanted to ask him just how old he was and then send a note home to his mother, reassuring her that her baby would be perfectly safe working on my team and that he would never be required to perform the kind of business travel that my hero in FLYBOY experienced.

Although everyone in my office is aware that I write for Harlequin Blaze, it's not generally a topic of discussion and has never (I feel) impacted how I am treated. What do you think? Would you let your young, impressionable son work for me? Or would you be afraid that I might somehow corrupt him? Or would you think, "Okay, cool! Bring these books into the office and ask your new boss if she'll sign them for me!"