Preeti sat in her grimy little room and struggled once again to understand how she'd gone from a haughty high flying future executive at a multi-national corporation to a penniless skank sucking on a joint and wondering exactly where the next month's rent was gonna come from.
The weed leant a not unpleasant haze to her painfully recollected memories. It was a muggy hot June afternoon and the lack of air conditioning or even a fucking hand-fan had resulted in Preeti being flopped out stoned on her single bed wearing nothing but a frayed red satin thong and a pair of white nylon ankle socks emblazoned with pictures of Batman.
Ah...the stupid fucking Batman socks...
An odd remnant of the life she once lived. It was ironic that knickers and socks were among the few things that she still owned from before the fall. Everything else had been sold by her or stolen by the shady characters who resided in the nooks and crannies of her shared shit-hole abode. No matter how far you fall, old knickers and socks prove hard to shift.
Bare light brown flesh glistened with sweat. Two dark nippled little mounds lolled lazily. A chest long bereft of the wondrous support garments she'd once strapped on daily. Her rapid weight gain over the past year had ironically added a little to a rack that she'd always considered lacking. The chubby belly, thong enveloping love handles, corpulent booty and chunky thighs the result of dining on cheap takeaway fried chicken, frozen chicken nuggets, cheap white bread and Lambrini. Preeti could never have previously imagined that being poor could result in weight gain rather than weight loss.
There was no lock on the door of her closet sized room, therefore anyone could've burst in to take a look at the stoned, semi-nude British born Indian woman in her late twenties. Once upon a time she would've been mortified at the prospect, but most of her co-habitees had seen it all before anyway...The locks on the two bathroom doors were long ago destroyed and quickly after moving in Preeti had realised that nobody respected the sanctity of the shared bathrooms.
The loft apartment in upmarket East London...
Had she really lived there a little over a year ago? All on her own? Wow. Even then it was a little out of Preeti's price range, but her credit was good until she made executive. Well that was the plan anyway. To pay back the debt and move into profit. Executive after the restructure and then there was the likely possibility of a transfer to New York. All of her dreams come true.
Once upon a time Preeti had foregone further education to get her foot on the first rung of the corporate ladder. Office junior at sixteen. Secretary at eighteen. Inducted into the management trainee scheme at twenty. Preeti had excelled year after year. Inching up the hierarchy floor by floor on her way to the Executive Boardroom. It helped that a middle-aged executive named Owen Laymon had seen promise in Preeti early on and taken her under his wing. He recognised an ambitious, hard-working, charismatic and refreshingly cut-throat young woman who he could sculpt into a powerful follower and help guide to the top. In return he expected nothing more than absolute loyalty. At twenty five it seemed inevitable that Preeti would soon become a fully-fledged executive.
Yet Owen wasn't Preeti's only admirer. Her future success could only reflect well on the company. A second generation Indian daughter of shop-keepers who had left school at sixteen and found herself embraced by the company. Preeti was a pretty, ethnic, elegantly suited and booted photo opportunity who could talk the talk and walk the walk. Never mind her occasionally bad decision making or the frequent accusations of bullying made against her. All of that was conveniently explained away as a passionate (if youthfully inexperienced...) seizing of initiative. And nobody ever made it to the top without ruffling the feathers of a few underlings...
Preeti's left foot itched as a fat buzzing bluebottle crawled along the ripe nyloned arch of her foot. And once again her eye was drawn back to...the socks.
X
It had all started with a flippant insult tossed in the general direction of an overly attentive middle-aged Dyke. A work party in a particularly swanky Soho bar on the eve of the restructuring interviews. It had the feel of a send-off for most of those present. The majority would lose their jobs and be tossed into the competitive London job market. Many would find themselves slipping down the trough, but a few were on track to make huge gains. Preeti had been firmly assured that she was to be among the latter.
So despite having the inside track on the likelihood of her own career advancement, Preeti still worked the room like a pro. She flitted around, easing herself into the conversations of all who resided above her within the company structure. Brusque politeness was reserved for all those deemed lesser than her and outright ignorance of anybody she didn't recognise. But that mannish bore just wouldn't stop buzzing around her! Offering drinks. Asking questions. Eyeing her equine Indian features and big brown eyes way too desperately...Preeti could also sense the Dyke gazing at her big booty every time her back was turned. All of the money that she spent on expensive trousers-suits tailored to somehow diminish the bulbous impact of the big ass that nature cursed her with, and some anonymous old lesbian was just openly staring at it!
At the end of her rope, Preeti moved in close and uttered the line that sealed her fate.
"Leave me the fuck alone you ancient Dyke nobody. Your breath really stinks. I suggest you disappear and deal with it."
Then she was off again. Smiling wide. Looking for somebody infinitely more important to talk to. A skip in her step and a flute of bubbly in hand.
Preeti recalled being slightly hungover when she awaited the interview on the morning after the party. Everybody in her department was waiting to re-interview for mostly lesser positions. Preeti smiled knowingly as the assholes she managed waited nervously. Yes, she would be losing her job...only to ascend to an executive position in the boardroom!
A little trepidation was experienced when Preeti discovered that the panel would interview the applicants in pairs. She'd been inexplicably paired up with a woman named Harmony. The late thirty-something African heifer was located well down the trough in Preeti's department. She was the type who applied for each and every position regardless of whether or not she had the ability to actually do the job. And in Preeti's opinion the elephant of a woman was barely equipped to do her own semi-secretarial job, let alone manage the department! Her heavily accented English continually grated on Preeti, evoking both disgust and cruel humor. So despite knowing that the fix was in, the anomaly caused butterflies to flutter as Preeti and Harmony were called first...
Preeti strutted purposefully into the room ahead of her colleague. She wore an elegant pin-stripe trouser suit over a silk lilac shirt, coupled with a white silk tie. The spike heels of her pointed stiletto boots clip-clopped on the marble floor of the entranceway. Her long glossy black hair was up and her face painted. Big brown eyes sat atop a prominent nose and a mouthful of dazzling white teeth. It was actually an artificial Snap-On smile, but it would have to do until she'd earned enough money to fix her teeth properly. Preeti's slightly asymmetrical features meant that she was no conventional beauty, but she'd always made up for any perceived aesthetic failings with charisma and sex appeal. Harmony however...
Preeti looked her African rival up and down with barely concealed disdain.
A garish summer dress, fat serpentine braids and a big pouting smile. Harmony was big all over and dwarfed her manager as they came to a halt side by side in the boardroom. Strangely, all of the usual furniture had been removed from the impressive room. Only a long thin desk sat before the floor to ceiling window. This left an expanse of light blue carpet that was ordinarily filled with a much larger boardroom table and all of the usual furnishings that filled the archetypal corporate environment.
Double interviews and now this...
