Chapter 2

After a hectic day working in an office, enduring the jokes—if you can even call them jokes—from my coworkers and their leering eyes, I could finally relax at home. Or so I thought, since my apartment didn't have internet access and I hadn't received my monthly paycheck yet. I work as an office clerk, a bit of a letdown considering my business administration degree, but that's life. I took this job because of the promise of rapid advancement and a good salary. Some of my friends from my graduating class got jobs abroad or already had good positions at large companies. Some are secretaries, but I'm not satisfied with that. I want to climb higher and give orders, not just follow them. I arrived early, stayed late, and organized ideas that could help this company move forward and save thousands or even millions of dollars. I presented an idea, they liked it, and decided to implement it. And what was my reward? A lousy office job, organizing papers, drafting emails, and reviewing the action plan that was being implemented—my action plan that I created. To say I was disappointed is an understatement; I was furious. But there was nothing I could do. If I left, anyone could take my place, and now that they had my action plan, they wouldn't be able to stop me if I left. I shouldn't trust the promises Mike made. Mike, who conducted the interviews, said he saw potential in me and that I could advance quickly. Because of my excitement and naiveté, I ended up accepting, and I didn't realize that the potential he saw was in my body.

I'm not a narcissist, but I must admit I have a good body, a good figure, D-cup breasts, long legs, and a great butt that I'm proud of. I exercise to keep it in shape, as well as my abs and waist. I hardly ever diet because with exercise and my body, which hardly gains weight, my friends were jealous. I'm the kind of girl men would like to ask out and sleep with, but just because I know it doesn't mean I understand it or that I should accept it and stay silent.

After two years at that company, while listening to my friends talk about their jobs, how they found a great guy, or how they were living the high life, I was arriving at my small but wonderful apartment, hoping to rest after yet another day of Mike stopping by to ask me about any ideas I had or hoping to get some progress from me. After all this time, I ended up being Mike's unofficial and unrecognized assistant, like in any company where men advance quickly, and with Mike getting ideas from me. Even though I knew what would happen, I had **** since I had signed a five-year contract. I couldn't leave, and if I fought to protect my ideas, who would they believe: a new woman fresh out of college, or a man who had been with the company for over ten years? The fight was already lost before it even began.

Resigned to my fate, thinking nothing could get worse, the only rest I had was interrupted because I had no internet or signal in my apartment—one more reason to hate that room, but it was the only thing I could afford.

So I grabbed my laptop and went to the coffee shop two blocks away. I'd never been there before since it was always packed with students, but I didn't have anywhere else to go without spending too much. I changed into my casual clothes and headed out.