Molly sat in the passenger seat of her husband's car, parked just outside the company where she worked. She was still getting ready, applying a little make-up. She always made it a habit to look professional. Some pop music sang to her from the car's speakers. The smell of her coffee, which Jim held for her, filled the car.
She pretended not to see her husband staring at her from the driver's seat. She held her gaze at the mirror under the visor, her bright blue eyes stared back at her as she applied a subtle shade of lipstick. Lately, this had been one of her favorite parts of her morning routine; no matter how tedious and boring her husband would be, the sensation of puckering her lips, making a little 'kissy' face in the mirror, put her in such a good mood. She felt her whole body perk up as she did this ritual and gave herself a wink. Her finger twirled the end of her tight ponytail while she thought about the start of her workday, and she couldn't help but giggle. She briefly regretted that her sense of professionalism dictated that she wore her hair up like this. She had lovely golden locks. She had lovely everything, really. She'd had a short career as an underwear model but was told that her breasts were too large. But she didn't mind. When Molly had auditioned, she had only been looking for a back-up plan to pay for school just in case she didn't get the scholarships she'd applied for. But her grades had gotten her a full ride, so she didn't weep over a lost modeling job. Not that any of that mattered now.
Molly glanced out the window to the entrance. This building had become her favorite place in the world; she absolutely loved working there. Thinking about how much she loved her job made her suddenly realize how tight her white blouse was, especially around the chest. She absent-mindedly undid the top button, allowing 2 beautiful inches of cleavage to greet her through the mirror. As she stared, she nearly undid a second button, but she stopped herself. Her brow furrowed as she hesitated. What was the most professional number of buttons to undo? She shook herself out of confusion. Her anticipation to start the day overcame her desire for perfection. She barely turned to reach for the coffee in Jim's hand, her eyes locked on the steps to her work entrance, but she didn't quite open the door before-
"Babe?" Jim's voice was like a splash of cold water. "You're heading in already? Isn't it still, like, an hour early?"
Molly suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and turned to face her regular husband. She tried not to sound too cold when she said, "I just like to get an early start. I'm getting into a good rhythm."
"Yes. You've been going in earlier and earlier. And keeping busy here later and later." Jim's brow furrowed.
"You know the work is important to me. I thought you'd be supportive." Molly hoped that last remark would put an end to this tedious conversation. He didn't work here at Bartok Industries. He couldn't know how great it was, how fulfilling the work was. He wasn't her work husband. Not that she had a work husband, but still. Molly watched Jim's lips move. As he whined, she was trying to think of her co-workers, but couldn't seem to remember any of their faces or names. Weird.
Jim was still talking. "And you never used to drink coffee, but now you insist that we get a cup before work every morning. That'd be fine, but I never see you drink it. We just haven't been seeing much of each other lately, and I thought we could take this time to...talk. To touch base with each other."
Molly couldn't take sitting here any longer. She mustered up as much affection for this man as she could and said "Oh honey, I'll be home later and we can talk then, if you're still awake, okay?" Before he could respond she kissed him on the cheek, noting that puckering her lips at that moment didn't fill her with any joy or excitement at all, and practically leaped out the door into the winter air, the coffee in her hand.
The thought of starting work made her hips sway with a seductive energy that she just couldn't hide. She turned and gave her husband a little wave with her fingers. She couldn't see his face through the tinted car window, but she hoped that he would just assume that her little dance was for him, even though it most certainly was not. Maybe that would ease some of his whining, but she doubted it. She knew that most men would appreciate the way her black, ankle-length pencil skirt hugged her curves, but she also knew that Jim would continue to be a chore.
Molly forced Jim out of her thoughts, not that it was hard. She glanced at the snow on the ground as she walked and was passively aware that she should have been cold, wearing only her skirt and blouse. But she just hadn't been feeling cold at all lately. In fact, she probably would have been much more comfortable with less clothing. She did, however, want to stay professional. What she was wearing would achieve that, without sacrificing too much of her natural good looks. Professional didn't have to mean boring and dumpy, right?
Molly approached the side of the building from the parking lot, her heels clicking away the silent morning. The main entrance was down the walkway to the right and around the corner. She made a left, turning towards
her
entrance. Some of the employees were required to take a special entrance. She couldn't remember why, at that moment; something about security maybe? Yeah, that made sense. They were just keeping her safe. Just one of the many ways this company was so good to her.
Jim, her regular non-work husband, may have been boring and tedious, like always, but he had brought up an interesting question about the coffee in her hand. Molly thought it over as she made her way around the corner to the back of the company building. She didn't really like coffee and had no interest in drinking this cup in her hands, but she
knew
that she wanted it. She had insisted that she needed a cup of coffee, every morning. But why, if not to drink it?
Molly looked up and saw the single door that would let her inside, and to the left was the security guard's window. The middle-aged man looked up from his book and gave her a sweet smile. She politely returned his smile and offered a 'Good morning!' in a perky, but professional voice. He would recognize her and let her in. What was his name again? Bob? Bill?
He jovially replied, "Morning Molz! How's the tightest little pussy in the building? Hope it's not too sore after yesterday."
Molly froze as a distinct clicking sound heralded the unlocking of her entrance. The man's smile widened.
"What did you just say to me?" She tried to remain calm, but the hand holding her coffee trembled. That was beyond unprofessional. She couldn't believe what she had just heard.
"You just wait right there." Molly reached out a hand to open the door. If he thought she was too timid to say anything back, he had another thing coming. This would be his last day working here, that was for sure. She would...
Standing just inside her company's glorious building, Molly's mind went blank. Her thoughts went all pink and she thought she could hear distant music. What was that song? She liked it. She couldn't remember what she had been about to do. She glanced at the coffee in her hand. Oh! Right!
Billy had said the kindest thing and she was about to thank him.
