Bad Reputation

It felt as if her entire body had been put through a grinder, or had been tossed around from one person to another, played with, then cast aside like a toy that was no longer a favorite. Everything hurt.

It was an hour after she lost her job that she found a new one. Many would consider her lucky, being fired over a misunderstanding, and then instantly gaining employment. Most people couldn’t find jobs at all, had to take to menial tasks to put food in their belly, and here she was, sickeningly signing a new contract for her friend’s firm.

A legal assistant like her was hard to come by, they told her. Someone with her experience and unflinching persona was valued among the sharks of the corporate world. It should’ve boosted her self-esteem, made her feel good, and maybe even a reason to celebrate, but all she felt was the humiliation she had been subjected to over the past week. For five years she had worked in that firm, five years without a single mistake, of over efficient work that was unmatched in its quality, and she’d been thrown out over one wretched assumption.

She put all her energy into ensuring things ran smoothly for her employer, the leading partner of the firm, but it had all gone sour after a hostile takeover. Papers she had never typed surfaced, and her new employer, a middle age man with a deceptively easy-going attitude had called her in, for what was no doubt a scolding. She could never forget the options he’d given her to become a very personal assistant of his, something that wouldn’t be cataloged on the sheets, but would be handsomely paid for in private.

Later, she heard one of the other employees gossiping as she packed up her things. Apparently, the new man on the throne wanted to weed out any people loyal to the old crone who had been thrown out, so it wouldn’t have mattered even if she came onto him to secure her position. They didn’t know that she had never come onto anyone in her whole life. She had no romantic or sexual goals; it was all about the name, the success, and that had been tarnished.

Nevertheless, here she was, typing up copyrights for a lawyer who hadn’t even shown his/her face but had left instructions on her duties, and how to perform them. It was a split second decision. She already had the part of the reputation down, as someone who had vouched to spread her legs for a job.  Now, she’d look it too. She’d worked hard enough, and where did that get her? All that time suppressing her female side to be as professional as possible, to proudly stand next to the men without discrimination, and one accusation had ruined her image. It was time to have fun now, to be who she really was.

That night she pulled out clothes she had stashed deep into the abyss of her closet. The closet was filled with all sorts of corporate attire; all sorts of boring corporate attire that she had chosen to cover her femininity with. Now, she was looking for something that would fit the rep that was thrust upon her professional career.

The following morning, the absentee lawyer did show up, perhaps to offer the very same thing or to check up on how the work was coming along. She stopped short when she looked at the new woman working in the smaller office next to hers. This woman was nothing like the picture she’d seen on her resume.

This woman had on a deep maroon blouse, which clung to her curves like a second skin, tucked into a short black skirt that reached only mind thigh. She almost thanked the lord when she saw that her legs were covered, albeit with some sort of slightly shimmery stockings. She almost collapsed at the shoes. They were the highest possible stilettos an assistant could’ve gotten away with, red-soled, much coveted shiny black and red Louboutin. It was an artistic firm, and this wasn’t the first time she’d seen anything so mesmerizing, but there was something about the woman…Ah, yes. It was a woman, which was why her hackles were raised. Her long forgotten attraction to the same gender stirred from a deep sleep, a sleep she had forced upon it.

As the woman raised her eyes to her, they promised nothing but trouble. And then that wide, painted mouth broke into a sultry smile. She rose to her full height, a few inches taller than her, and stepped in front of her desk.

“You must be Ms. Hastings?” she inquired.

All she received was a dumbstruck nod.

“What a pleasure to finally meet you.”

And what a pleasure it would be.

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