*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
*.*.*.*
Christine Gernaud stood in front of the Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store in Kimble, Louisiana, fanning her sweating face. The heat was in the high nineties; the humidity was also in the high nineties. Her blonde hair actually looked light brown where it stuck to her scalp; the sweat made the yellow hair look dark.
Christine had her mother, Pam Gernaud to thank for her beauty. Just like her mother, Christine was blessed with thick, straight straw colored locks, large blue eyes, a button nose and pouting light pink lips. Her mother had also passed along her large breasts and cute bubble butt and slim waist to Christine.
Christine wasn't thanking her mother for any genetic traits; she was cursing her mother for constantly running off with this trucker or that trucker, getting herself pregnant, then returning to Gary Gernaud with promises that she'd reformed. The last time Pam returned, Gary agreed that it would be her last time and put two slugs into Pam's cheating heart before putting the gun into his own mouth and ending his misery.
Christine and four of her brothers and sisters were farmed out to the foster care system. Her first night in the Gueydan household, Christine's nightmare really began. She found alcohol to numb the pain and deaden her shame. After all, Mr. Gueydan told Christine it was her own fault. And Mrs. Gueydan claimed that Christine brought it all on herself, always parading around, showing off the goodies.
Nina Crowder pulled into the parking lot of the Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store. The twenty seven year old woman shut off the powerful engine of her 2017 Dodge Charger and sighed as the last blast of cold air left the vent of the car. Oakleaf, Texas had enjoyed some brutal heat waves, but they rarely had such extreme humidity.
"Thank God it's Friday; sit in the air conditioning whole weekend," Nina promised herself as she rested her hand on the door handle.
When Tom Thibodaux of Thibodaux Investments had decided to open his own collection agency, he contacted Brad Prescott of Prescott Conglomerate, Inc. and asked Brad to assist. Brad was smart enough to know, he wasn't smart enough to assist Tom, so routed Tom to Ashley Dunn, the manager of the Collections Department.
"Mr. Thibodaux, the first thing you're going to need is an experienced agent to manage the department," Ashley had stated. "And, the one person I would recommend, the one person I know would make your department a success is Nina Crowder. She has the experience, the know-how; hell, she helped me to whip this section into shape. And, she's not afraid to hurt people's feelings."
"Oh, I don't want..." Tom had said.
"You don't want to be intentionally cruel," Ashley had forged on. "But, people's feelings are going to get hurt. Employees, clients, your clients' customers; feelings are going to get hurt. And you don't want a 'buddy' that wants to make everyone happy. You want someone that will separate the wheat from the chaff, get the job done."
Nina had just had another relationship crater. She'd had yet another boyfriend dump her after promising a forever love; Bobby had even been talking about marriage and children before deciding to hook up with a leggy blonde bimbo that danced at Tijuana Jack, a gentleman's club in Oakleaf, Texas.
So, when Ashley had recommended that Tom interview Nina, Nina had jumped at the opportunity. The face to face interview had gone very well; and the salary had made Nina almost gasp out loud. The only thing Nina had not liked was Tom's insistence that his agents dress professionally.
"We're going to be on the phone," Nina had spluttered. "Who cares what we look like?"
"I care. We're a professional company. Employees should dress and conduct themselves in a professional manner," Tom said firmly.
So, Nina dressed in skirts and blouses or dresses; she hated the way she looked in pants suits. With her red hair cut in a short bob, pants suits tended to make her look somewhat butch. She even put her 28B breasts into a bra; the first day on the job, she'd not worn a bra. Tom had quietly called Nina into his office and pointed out that he could very clearly see her nipples through her silk blouse.
Her first six months in DeGarde, Louisiana, Nina had rented an apartment in Venice Apartments. After her ninety day probation period had elapsed and Tom had indicated that he was more than pleased with Nina's performance and the performance of the collection agency as a whole, she had hired Deidre Doucet of Gold Standard Real Estate to find a home for Nina.
"Come on; ain't going get no cooler longer you sit here," Nina told herself and opened the door of her car.
A blast of fetid air blew Nina's pleated skirt up, exposing her thigh high stockings and bald pubic mound to anyone that might have been looking. Tom Thibodaux might be able to tell Nina to wear bras or camisole tops underneath her blouses, but he could not tell Nina she had to wear panties. Going commando was Nina's one act of defiance.
Nina quickly pulled the skirt down and smiled self-consciously at the cute blonde girl that flashed a smile at Nina. She locked her car and closed the door and grabbed an abandoned buggy.
"Oh, ow! Holy cow!" Nina whistled as the scalding hot plastic handle burned her palm.
"Hey, lady, you uh, you buy me a pint of Albertson's Gin," the blonde asked.
"What? Albert, how old are you?" Nina asked the attractive girl.
"Nineteen," Christine admitted. "Come on, lady, I got the buck; just buy me the pint, huh?"
"Buck; how much is a pint of this stuff?" Nina asked, ignoring the sweaty dollar bill the girl held out.
"Eighty nine; comes up to ninety seven with tax," Christine said.
"Eighty, wow, the good stuff, huh?" Nina said. "Look, I don't think so. Jesus, you're only nineteen? I don't need..."
"Come on, lady; shit, I don't get back to the shelter by six, I'll miss supper," Christine begged.
"Shelter?" Nina asked, looking again at the girl's clothing of man's shirt and blue jeans cut off into obscene shorts.
"Yeah, I'm homeless," Christine admitted, a slight blush coloring her face.
That slight blush gave Nina cause to hesitate. She didn't know how long the girl had been homeless, but apparently the girl had not been hardened to the point that she couldn't blush. But she had been beat down enough that she needed cheap alcohol. Nina could now see how badly the girl's hands shook as she held out the dollar bill.
"Okay. Come on," Nina said, nodding her head toward the store.
"They uh, they don't let me in; manager caught me stealing couple apples," Christine admitted.
Nina smiled and nodded. The girl's blush was on her face again. And the girl was honest enough to admit that she resorted to stealing.
"Okay, go wait by my car," Nina said. "Don't touch any of the buggies; burned shit out of my hand."
Inside of the store, Nina grabbed another buggy. This one had been out of the sun long enough to cool slightly. On impulse, Nina veered to the produce section and grabbed a large Fuji apple. She had done her major shopping earlier in the week, so just needed a few items she'd forgotten about.
In the liquor aisle, Nina found the Albertson's Gin and wrinkled her face. The pints were eighty nine cents; a fifth was only a dollar fifty nine. Next to the gin was the Iron Barrel Whiskey. Nina selected a bottle of Iron Barrel Chocolate and a bottle of Iron Barrel Cherry Whiskey. She did a swing around and found the Burns & Burns brand sweetened condensed milk.
"Hmm," the cashier said when she spotted the pint of Albertson's Gin among Nina's other items.
The woman even turned her head and scanned the parking lot through the plate glass window. She gave Nina a hard look as she continued to ring up Nina's purchases.
