Chapter 2: Amanda And Claire Go To Work

Amanda was stirring her cappuccino absently, when Claire put her paper down and said, "Well, we've lots of options for work." She pointed to each entry as she read off, "Secretary, secretary, receptionist, clerk, and secretary."

"You can type can't you? Didn't you provide secretarial services for Mr. Fontaine before we partnered up?" Amanda said as she looked up from the steaming beverage she'd been agitating.

Claire laughed, "Yes, from beneath his desk and up against the filing cabinet. I didn't do much typing. That requires one to sit down on one's ass. But, yes, I can type"

"Oh, well, we've got to come up with some way to pay the rent. Can't you pretend or something? I'm even thinking of applying for a job over at Drowsie Maggie's for the dinner shift. I can wait tables." Amanda said as she slowly spun the cup around on its saucer.

"Yeah you can. I've seen you work tables, but it's usually on your back or on your belly, with your ass or twat wide open. Got an idea. If we don't get a call for something more fun by this evening, let's go get something a little on the drab side to earn the rent by."

With that, Claire folded the paper and finished drinking the iced cappuccino in front of her. Her shades rapped around her face and the contrast between the dark band where her eyes should be and the whiteness of her skin was alluring. Her full, coral-colored lips matched coral-painted nails.

"Hmm, it'll be a challenge. But, I'm up to it. Gotta eat, you know. Let's call from here and check our messages." Amanda waved to the waiter and asked him to bring a phone to the table. She took a pen from her purse and smoothed a napkin. When the waiter returned with the phone she smiled at him brightly and patted his hand. She punched in their number and after a brief pause, began writing on the napkin.

Claire watched as she wrote down the messages and wrinkled her forehead so the dark brows disappeared beneath the tops of her glasses. She looked around for the waiter and saw him disappear into the cafe. He exited again five minutes later and she signaled to him for the check.

"Well, we got a call from David at La Boite. He wants us to put something down on our tab. Monica was wondering if we want to go to a party at her parents' place next weekend. Three calls from the land lady and a call from the manager at the gym to find out if we're going to join. He'll give us a discount. Mr. Flasque called to say that was our best session yet, and wants a standing appointment on the third Wednesday of every month. He'll pay more if we make him a regular. Monique down at the modeling agency called to say she expects we'll have a few jobs the first weekend of next month for one of her foreign clients. She'll let us know in a few days. In the mean while, we don't have any choice but to find work to tide us over for a while.

The waiter brought the check and smiled at the generous tip left by the two women. Amanda patted him on the behind as they were leaving. They were soon lost in the current of people constituting the hustle and bustle of afternoon shoppers. They headed back to their apartment but first Claire filled out a few applications with several businesses looking for secretaries. Amanda stopped by Drowsie Maggie's to apply for work as a waitress.

The manager of Maggie's was a sinewy dark fellow with a faintly lilting accent. He spent more time checking her out as she sat there in her short skirt and sandals with her leg crossed over the other knee than he paid to her answers to his questions. He accepted the application when she handed it to him and told her to show up for work the next night at 4 p.m. He'd be the only one there until 5:30, but he wanted to give her a good orientation.

They climbed the three flights to their loft apartment and Claire waited while Amanda opened the door. The flash of the indicator on the answering machine showed they had a couple more messages.

"Gawd! I wonder what now. Hmm, maybe it's one of those places you applied to." Amanda said as she pushed the button and waited for the play back.

"Ms. Pidgeon. This is Ernest Dixon's office. I need someone to start tomorrow. My current typist had to leave unexpectedly today. Your qualifications seem adequate for our needs. Please call as soon as you can. The answering service will contact me as soon as they hear from you." The message ended with the date/time stamp. The final message was from the land lady.

"Well, at least we'll be able to eat through next month." Claire said as she began dialing the number to Dixon's office. Amanda went to answer the door. She mockingly shoved her finger down her throat after she' peeped out the view hole. When she opened the door, a middle aged, ash-blond haired woman stood waiting. She was somewhat dumpy in spite of her attempts at makeup and a manicure.

"Mrs. Aspic. How are you? What can we do for you." Amanda drawled as she moved to block the land lady's entrance.

"The rent is now one and a half months past due. I'll have to evict you if you don't pay up by the end of the month." Her raspy voice echoed in the hallway.

"We'll have it sooner than that. We've both found new jobs and start tomorrow." Amanda began to push the door closed slowly. Mrs. Aspic backed away from the door and turned down the stairs.

"Just see that you do." She hollered over her shoulder as she descended the stairs.

Claire grimaced as the door closed. "Well, looks like I start tomorrow. Gotta be there at nine in the morning. Yech!"

Amanda made a quick supper and Claire dug through the closet looking for something to wear. She finally decided on a ballerina-length skirt which buttoned up the front, a blouse and a vest. She found a pair of loafers and a matching purse. It wasn't exactly what the well-dressed secretary was wearing, but it'd do.

That night the two of them compiled all their bills and determined how much they were in debt. It wasn't a pretty sight by the time they got done. Amanda climbed into the bed they shared and Claire followed soon after. Love making for them was more a comfort that night than an activity. They lay there and pleasured each other for some time before they dropped off to sleep, entwined in each other's limbs.

Claire crept out of bed and left Amanda sleeping. Hastily she dressed and left for work. She didn't want to be late for her first day. It was a short walk from the apartment to the office, but it was all up hill. When she arrived Mr. Dixon was sitting at the typewriter in the reception area, fighting with a piece of paper. He looked up from the desk and smiled at her. The fold of his eyes indicated he was of oriental extraction, but his eyes were blue. His hair was jet black and judging by the way he was crammed into the typewriter table, he was probably tall. His hands appeared to be very well muscled.

"Ah, Claire, you're on time. Your first official duty will be to remove this piece of paper from the typewriter and then type this summons. I need it in 45 minutes." With that he got up from the chair and motioned for her to sit. She placed her bag on the desk and turned to the typewriter.