“Oh, fuckity f**k,” JD muttered, sliding her finger along the run in her stocking she hadn’t noticed until she was about to walk out the door. “I do not have time for this s**t today.”
A quick glance at the clock confirmed she didn’t. It would take forty-five minutes to get through traffic, and that was being optimistic. Hurrying over to the full-length mirror on the back of her bedroom door, she eyed her outfit critically. Nobody would notice, unless they happened to see her in a room with a light on.
Kicking off her shoes, she half-walked, half-stumbled over to her dresser. Did she have any other clean pantyhose? Or, barring that, a clean pair of slacks? After tearing through her drawers, her closet, and her drawers once again, she realized the answer to both questions was a negative.
