Chapter Thirteen
Honey & Ale
I arrived at work a few days later seeing a new girl sitting at Elsa’s desk. The girl, another eighteen-year-old bimbo, sat slouched, thumbing through a magazine—a French fashion rag. A quick peek at its contents, I could see where she got her fashion sense.
“Hello, I’m Natalie,” I introduced myself.
The girl looked up. “Marie,” she said.
She was small, but a bit heavier than Honey and unlike Honey, endowed with large breasts, which were squashed into a bra one size too small so that they spilled over the top, forming mounds of inviting cleavage that jiggled seductively every time she moved. I immediately judged her attire grossly inappropriate for an office setting, although I imagined that she dressed to please her two bosses. Hardaway and Cain would
