“Pinkerton. Could you stop by my office and pick up this portfolio and put it on Kim’s desk?”
Chloe Pinkerton saw the message flash on her computer monitor. “Claire again,” she muttered under her breath. It was 6:17 in the morning and it was just Chloe and Claire at the office. Nobody else would be rolling in for another half hour at least.
Chloe grunted softly as she hoisted herself up out of her seat. She reached for her wooden crutches and deftly slid them under her arms. Her single black patent stiletto oxford pump clicked on the tile flooring in tandem with the softer, more subtle sound of the rubber tips on the bottom of her crutches.
The 21 year old intern glided over to her supervisor’s office. Claire insisted that Chloe show up at 6 AM sharp every weekday. She always assigned Chloe the most menial of tasks, and she seemed to enjoy watching Chloe perform them.
“Here, Pinkerton,” Claire said as she handed Claire a black folder. Claire looked over Chloe and started to lick her lips. “How’s that little nubby wubby of yours, Pinkerton?” She pointed at Chloe’s mostly-empty left pant sleeve. “I’d love to see it in person, under a miniskirt,” she said hungrily. “And well done with your shoe choice. No more flats and low wedges for you, Pinkerton. Only full a four inch stiletto will do here.”