Bound Gals

Elena groans as the sunlight shines in her eyes. She blocks it with her free hand as she straightens up in her bed, her brain feeling as though it’d been pickled in a jar by Martians or Venusians. Whatever. She rubs her face and stares at the clock. If only she could stay in a little bit longer…

She spies the bathroom light, flicking dramatically over the shower. Oh shit, she curses under her breath, realizing that she’d forgotten about the electric bill yet again. Ever since she’s moved to the City it’s been a miracle for her to get any time to herself, let alone been able to sit down and write a check to Con Ed or anyone else for that matter. Her entire life is taken up with licking envelopes and reading stories in the slush pile, all so she might one day introduce herself as agent Elena Bancroft, rather than the skinny, waifish, freckled English major she is.

Stumbling into the bathroom, she notices her nude reflection in the mirror. Except for her college days, as far back as she can remember she’s always slept in her birthday suit. It’s not that she hates clothes per se. Neither is she an exhibitionist. She just loves the feeling of linen against bare skin as the cool air of the A/C hits her.

Not surprisingly, she hasn’t had many sleepovers.

But she loves her body. She loves the contours and moles on her legs and feet, the way the auburn tufts of public hair curl just so. The elfish nose, the ears, the beautiful almond eyes…

About the only regret she does have is her small breasts; pale dwarfs compared to the C’s and D’s she’s seen in her short lifetime. Mostly, though, she has pride. Pride in her looks, pride in her smarts. It’s the only thing that keeps her going in a city of eight million, waking up at an ungodly hour of the morning, showering and enduring the horrors of the subway, all so she could walk into a cubicle with the expectation that one day, all her hard work would pay off.

As she slips into her skirt and business suit, the thought occurs to her that she’s a masochist for forcing herself to go through with it. Why not lay down? Why not take the day off and go roaming around? Stop and smell the roses!

But that would make her just another intern playing hooky in the city, and she hasn’t come this far just to treat a summer-long internship as an opportunity to goof off. She’s different, she’s talented. She’s got potential.

How else could she explain herself landing this gig, when so many other bright (to say nothing of well-connected) kids were turned away?

Walking into the massive, glass and steel monstrosity that is the headquarters of the PPI Publishing House, she braces herself for what the day brings. It’s not an hour before her boss calls for her, screaming in a voice only a banshee could love.

“Bancroft! Get in here!”

Elena shuffles toward the corner office, head held high and expecting the worst.

“You called?”

“Bancroft, are you busy?”

“No ma’am, I’m—“

“Good.” The tall blond cuts her off. “I’ve got a job for you.”

“What kind of job?”

The fortyish woman’s emerald eyes gleam slyly. Elena glances at the name plate on her desk. KATYE LEWIS. Her parents must have been beatniks to give her such a strange name.

“Bancroft, are you even listening to me?”

Elena startles.

“Sorry, ma’am, I was distracted.”

“I see.” Katye cradles her chin. “I am wondering if you could do me a favor.”
The boss reaches into the purse on her desk and pulls out a plain, nondescript business card. What could she possibly have in mind?

“There’s a wrap party being held in town tonight.” She presses the card into Elena’s hand. “An up and coming author is promoting their next book. The BookExpo is in a couple of weeks, but I’m hoping to poach them from the competition and grab some headlines before then. And you’re the bait.”

Elena chafes at the term.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Oh for Christ’s sake!” Katye waves her hand dismissively. “It’s just a figure of speech!”

Elena's stomach ties up in knots.

"Midnight? Isn't that a bit late? And what's this address? I've never heard of it before, and I've been up and down this city for a month! Something about this doesn't feel right."

"Don't worry your pretty head about such stuff."

The klaxons in Elena's head go off like firecrackers. She bites her lip, not wanting to let on about her fear, lest her boss catch wind and suddenly change her mind.

“But I’m just a kid!” She protests. "Wouldn't it be better to send someone older and more experienced for this?"

"Experience is the best teacher, Ms. Bancroft. What's wrong, are you scared?"

“It's not that. It's just...”

"Spit it out."

“It’s been four weeks, Ms. Lewis. I’ve hardly had any time off. I've hardly slept a wink since I got here. I got bills up to my neck...”

Katye shoots her a look.

“No excuses. Are you going to be there or aren’t you?”