Authors: Jackie Coupe
Chapter 2
She left England in search of high adventure. Working in an office was much the same wherever in the world you happened to be. She didn’t feel she could ever be herself whilst still on the same continent as her lost playmate.
Upon moving to America and the dazzling city of Los Angeles, she set her mind about making a home for herself. The job was easy enough. A law firm had already accepted her application and were expecting her. A British PA was what the boss had desired. She thought the Brit lingo and accent to be very smart and since it was what most people in NY were doing she wanted in. PA bling. Could you believe it?
Karen didn’t care. It meant she could turn her life around and the fresh start might be the punch in the guts she needed to get on with being whatever she wanted to be. Since she had never made any such attempts at home to display her true sexuality.
If that meant meeting and greeting young eligible girls…well, she couldn’t use the excuse anymore that her family might find out, might disown her, might be disgusted with her.
Besides.
Just whose fucking life was it anyway?
The flight had been one long daydream about just how things were going to be different, and not just by a little. By the time the plane landed she had pretty much worn herself out with the endless possibilities she now felt open to her. It was a nice feeling, hope, especially when it wasn’t anything you expected to feel again.
At the airport a rep of the firm to which she had been hired, Tarkingtons, a timid young girl called Rochelle, had come to collect her and her bags.
“Hiya”
“Hi” Rochelle took the outstretched hand and gave it a one time shake.
Rochelle had all the hallmarks of an office gopher, speak when spoken to, get on and do it,
now, now, now!
She hardly said three words without prompt from Karen all the way into the city. Karen just guessed she was quiet naturally. Besides, there was all this stuff to look at. Buildings that she had to crane her neck to see to the top of, contrails left behind by planes that looked like they were traced in gold as the sun westered.
“Pretty here”
“You bet” Rochelle agreed. Karen saw her hand had a tattoo on it, looked like a Roman numeral at the base of her thumb.
“That’s different”
“This? Yeah.”
And that was it. Whatever conversational gambit she threw out got returned with words of one syllable or less.
They pulled up outside of what looked like flats to Karen’s British eye. They were ‘apartments’ Rochelle said. Rochelle explained how all the buildings were hardly ever more than three storeys high in LA, she mentioned quakes too.
She took her up to what would be her ‘apartment’ and after depositing the cases Karen ventured to ask again about the tattoo, if she was going to see a lot of them she wanted to know what they meant. Everything was going to be new here but she didn’t have to behave like a complete tourist.
“It’s my number”
“Like your phone number?”
“No,” she plonked down the smallest case, “
My
number”
Rochelle gave her a look then that said that was the end of it.
“Well. Thanks Rochelle” she stuck her hand out and Rochelle took it. She gave it a double pump, up down, up down.
“Settle in and get some sleep. I’ll be back in the morning to collect you and take you to Tarkingtons”
“See you then, thanks for the ride in”
“You bet!” Rochelle smiled. There was a flicker of something in that smile that hearkened Karen back to days when love was just across the road and ‘judgement’ was a word she didn’t even know how to spell yet.
Before she could ask anything else of the office gopher she was gone. Karen was almost entirely sure Rochelle was gay. Just like that. She had heard it called ‘Gaydar’ once, you just know when you come into contact with someone what their sexual preferences are and respond in kind.
And what was that
my number,
shit? ‘Cattle’
got numbered. It had felt weird to the max since she got here but she would take it in her stride. It had been a long plane ride and some sleep would hopefully make things seem more sensible tomorrow. She would endeavour to find out what Rochelle really was though, it might help her in future to know what ‘American Gay Girls’ looked like.
The apartment was a little sparse, the views from the windows reminded her she wasn’t in Kansas any more. Her heart fluttered.
“Interesting day indeed” she said to herself as she stood on front of the glass wall that served as her window to the outside world. The view was nothing less than stunning and she might have ended up spending her whole first night just stood there, feeling the pulse and blood of this unknown city to her. Aside from the fact she was knackered. She had travelled halfway around the world to find acceptance and a new start, as an omen her first contact here seemed to be someone she could identify with.
She had a kind face too.
Not wanting to obsess she showered up and plopped into bed. The morning would come round all too quickly as it were.
A shrilling alarm clock seemed to rouse her the second after her head hit the pillow and she felt like another couple of hours would have made her a nicer person.
First day. Get yer arse out of yer pit.
It didn’t take long, clothes, comb hair, she’d have to get a brew at the office, she needed provisions. Once she was as ready as she could be she went back down to the kerb.
As promised Rochelle came by to pick her up. Karen had dressed to impress. Gray power suit, black shoes. She felt smart. Thinking about Rochelle last night had given her a million questions to ask but she figured there was going to be plenty of time, no sense in rushing into anything. Besides, people were just generally different here. She needed to take her time and learn the way things worked, there had already been too many ‘jumped guns’ and every time had wrought her heart.
The building that Tarkingtons was in was nothing short of monolithic. They entered the lobby with elegantly ornate marble tiles on the floor. Karen stopped to look down and almost got hit by a guy coming through the doors.
Way to go ‘tourist’.
A desk of black marble with a couple of security guys behind it was near the back of the entrance hall. She thought about altitude sickness on the way up in the elevator and Rochelle smiled at her.
“S’okay. You’ll get used to it”
“Yeah” but she couldn’t hide her nervousness.
Boing!
The doors opened and the reception desk for Tarkingtons itself was situated directly across from them.
“This is where you sign in each day when you come in. Health and safety, fire regs, here…” she spun the book round to her and she took the pen. The receptionist smiled at her then held her hand out.
“Carolyn” her mouth revealed approximately three rows of pristine white teeth. Karen was dazzled.
“Karen, Hiya” there was a numeral on the receptionists hand. Karen felt her eyebrow go up and felt herself being obvious.
It’s some American fad that’s all. You’ll probably see a kajillion of them.
Carolyn meanwhile was being very obvious in a different way. Karen felt lost. Was everyone here going to be so sexually extrovert? She didn’t know if her country mouse heart could take the strain.
“Welcome to Tarkingtons” the receptionist shot her a glance of pure carnality then went back to her paperwork. Karen felt glad when the after image emblazoned on her retinas receded. Those were some teeth alright!
As they turned the corner she asked Rochelle where the rest room was.
“Through here” and she deposited her through a door at the end of the corridor.
“Fuck me!” she gasped as she leaned against the door. She ducked to see if any of the stalls were occupied. None seemed to be. In the mirror she could see her face was brick red. She took the chance to pee and washed her face off with cold water. God damn it was hot round these parts!
“Well?” Carolyn was intrigued to say the least. The British lass was skittish, but she didn’t doubt for a second that she’d get on ‘The Chain’.
“Well what Care? If she is you know the rules.” Rochelle was perched on the end of her desk, left leg swinging idly.
“Bastards” she growled. Carolyn loved working here. Big business and the best pussy she’d ever had. But sometimes red tape was a bitch.
Back in the restroom Karen was getting herself together slowly but surely. After she felt a little more businesslike she went back out. Rochelle was back outside the door and smiling at her. Karen’s eyebrow hoisted again, her God damn eyebrow! She might as well be wearing a sign proclaiming that all she saw so far was weirdness supreme.
“Come on, I’ll walk you round the place so you get a feel for the layout” Rochelle giggled. How odd? What was so funny? She reached down to check she’d zipped her pants as they rounded the corner.
“This is where the junior apprentices work, don’t worry about names, you’ll learn them quick enough when you get to know the bunch of bitches”
?
Her face must have gone red again, Rochelle thought this was highly amusing, “Oh its alright, they’re
nice
bitches.”
“Oh” was about all she could manage. She wondered if she could staple her eyebrow down so it wouldn’t keep giving her away.
“And round here you have the paperwork, files, legal books. Oh, that’s my desk there and that young lady hiding under it, yeah! I see you whore! She’s Minnie” There was a bump and a head full of brown wavy hair came up, “Ouf! Ah, Rosh, hi”
“Don’t get up, looks like your busy” If Karen had to swear on a stack of bibles she would still say that what looked like a pair of legs was sticking out behind the chair. Unless ‘Minnie’ was double jointed at the waist, they weren’t her legs.
I will not raise my eyebrow, will not raise my eyebrow, will not, will not, WILL NOT!
Rochelle laughed at her, “Its OK, no one ever comes round this part. Come on” and as they passed Minnie and whoever was under the desk, she could have further sworn to hearing a pleasured groan.
“This corridor has four offices along it, they’re the executives veeps and partners”
Her arm was being tugged by the cuff and she got the distinct idea now that Rochelle was having a jolly old time with the country mouse.
“This is the canteen, hi girls!” About a million faces all spun round to watch them pass. There was licking of lips. A penny dropped in Karen’s mind.
I haven’t seen one man! Not one, how the fuck do they manage that?
Rochelle double timed her to the last corridor. She dropped her voice to a whisper and spoke to her in reverent tones.
“OK. This is a corridor we don’t come into much. That room at the end”, she turned and pointed, “She’s the boss, Sarah Steiger. That room to your left is conference room one, that one,”, she pointed the opposite way, “conference room two. That next to it is Charlotte Toulouse’s office, one of the partners. Come on”
They left the corridor and Karen wanted to bite Rochelle, she still had her by the cuff like a prize poodle.
“Ah-hem” Karen jingled her arm.
“Opsie, sorry honey” she dropped her cuff, “You’ve had the five cent tour. How ‘bout a coffee?”
Back in there, where that sea of faces all want to eat me up? Wickedy.
“Do you have any tea?”
“Tea?”
“Yeah. Opposite to coffee, comes with milk” she smiled.
Rochelle stopped laughing and ducked into the cook area. She came back with something that looked like grey paint and smelled a little like aniseed. They sat down.
Karen was getting good at this. She knew when she tasted this she was going to have an eyebrow moment so she would use a question to divert Rochelle’s attention.
“How long have you been with the company”
Sip. Hoist. Wince.
“Oh, like forever! About two years now. It’s the best!”
She hadn’t seen anyone that was physically unattractive in any way. She guessed they must have broke all kinds of rules to make this a girls only gig. Better to ask though.