On My Own Terms
INtrinSicliValud
On My Own Terms
By INtrinSicliValud
Copyright © 2021 INtrinSicliValud
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact: intrinsiclivalud100@yahoo.com
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
For the hundredth time, I stared into the mirror, smoothing out the hem of my long skirt and checking the jacket to ensure it covered my loose blouse. Okay, okay; I was ready. No nipples under my padded bra, nothing above my knee showing, and the flared jacket did double duty, concealing my chest and my hips. After a string of waitress and barista gigs, this was the first job where I would use my degree. And I sure didn’t want to fuck it up.
With a sigh, I adjusted the heavy, black-rimmed fake glasses on my nose. Most of the videos didn’t show my face, but better to be sure. My fingers picked at the strands of dangling blonde hair to frame my cheeks perfectly—yeh, right, the fucking things just wouldn’t stay. I don’t know why I listened to my friend: “put your hair up, it’ll make you look smarter.” Fuck, the company already had my school records. After flashing a tight grin and one last glance at the nervous woman in the mirror, I picked up my bag, trotted on my low heels and headed downtown.
A bus, a subway ride, and then another bus had me walking along the sidewalk amid the early morning, caffeine-deprived, grunting masses. Soon I approached the towering cylinder that would be my work home for the foreseeable future—if I didn’t fuck it up. With a sharp intake, I stopped and rolled my head back to stare up at the steel-wrapped glass column jutting into the blue sky far above. The sun was slanting down on it, giving the glass a faint purple-pinkish hue. As I moved inside with a rush of other droopy-eyed office workers, I stifled a chuckle. This was the first time I’d been inside of a giant penis instead of the other way round.
Still grinning, I walked to the security desk to get directions, and after handing me a visitor badge, the suit-wearing, very expensive suit-wearing, guard pointed me to the human resources department. Once there, with a blessing to the coffee gods, I wrapped my fingers around the hot paper cup and waited to begin. And we all know what that’s like. Would you like insurance? Life? No, I mean, the only family I had left was my sister, and she was doing well. Health? Abso-fucking-lutely, even though I had given up my most dangerous habits, living one oopsie away from medical debt sucked. By the time I filled out all the forms, had money pointed to my pathetic bank account, and had my picture taken for my own shiny new corporate collar, uh, badge, my stomach was rumbling.
But, just as I was turning to ask where the nearest food may hide, a heavy woman flowed from the elevator, took one look at me and strode closer. Dressed in a colorful Mumu, her eyes were narrowed over her reading glasses and her gray-tinged dark hair, though pinned back, was wild and flowed behind her.
“Naomi? Ms. Duncan?”
At her high-pitched call, I nodded and reached out to shake her outstretched hand. She had a firm grip and slapped a tablet into my fingers. As she tugged me alongside, she talked—a lot.