Most of the time she worked alone in a corner cubicle, one that faced windowless walls. Her black outfit was her exclusive wardrobe, matching her sull...n attitude. She didn't seem to want to be working here, or maybe anywhere. Her distain for her co-workers was palatable. Her hair was always pulled back tight into a bun, pulling her eyes apart. Oh yes, and thick lensed glasses in a black frame.My appearance startled her. The shopping bag fell from her grasp. Packages of Post-It notes, boxes of. The second was that she wasn’t bleeding at all. The third was that her top and bra were lying in tatters on the ground. The blonde girl’s eyes widened and she squealed at her unexpectedly topless state. Her arms crossed over her bare breasts reflexively. Wellington raised his eyebrows in a leer, then offered a florid bow. ‘No need to squeal, m’lady. They are lovely, indeed.’ Desiree moved in, intent on stopping the jester, but the little man dropped to his hands and knees and scooted between. More

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