by Mac Flynn
"Actually this is the only job I've had, and I kind of got it through my dad," Slinky pointed out. She nodded back to where the break room was located. "I brought the donuts. Better get one while there's still some left. Those piranhas will eat them faster than anything."
"No, I'm not hungry." She rubbed her stomach as she thought of their trysts.
"Stomach ache?" Sam just kind of shrugged.
"Something like that."
"Well, whatever it is maybe you'd better go sit down in your chair," Slinky suggested. She shoved the remainder of her donut into her mouth and herded her friend back to their cubicles. Her rough handling nearly knocked over the pile of folders still on Sam's desk. "Damn stuff, when is that old hag want them back?"
"I'm not really sure." Sam rubbed her eyes and sighed. She was tired and realized she had a new dilemma. She was covered in dry sweat and it was sticky between her thighs. Lunch was coming so she had some time to deal with it, but she didn't have enough minutes to drive home, shower, and return without going over her lunch hour. "Is there a shower or something around here?" It was especially uncomfortable sitting down in her otherwise comfortable chair.
"There's a place a few blocks down, or you could come home with me. I don't live too far from here." Slinky leaned over and gave her a suspicious look. "Why do you need one?"
"I didn't have time to get one this morning." It was true, but deceiving. She was, however, too uncomfortable to care whether she even lied to her friend or not. The truth couldn't come out, anyway, not without her losing her job.
"I know I already asked you this, but are you sure you're feeling okay?" Slinky put her hand to Sam's forehead and frowned. "No fever, but your cheeks sure are red."
"Maybe it's too warm in here for me," Sam suggested as she stood. She grabbed her jacket and purse as the clock struck the noon hour. Time for everyone to evacuate for some grub. "A shower would probably fix me up pretty good."
"Good, I'll have an excuse to show you all my stuff." Slinky took her friends arm and led her to the elevators. "Just don't try to eat anything in the fridge. They're in rebellion right now and don't taste too good."
"I'll remember that." Sam cracked a smile, which in turn made her companion smile.
"That's better. You look a lot better without that frown."
Slinky's apartment was within walking distance and they made the trip in under ten minutes. She lived in a posh penthouse well above the ground floor, so the view was great when they entered the brightly lit living room. The place was about twice as big as Sam's apartment, and furnished far more handsomely. There was a couch and love seat situated in a pit with a fifty-two inch flat screen tv mounted on the wall. Looking to her left she could see a hall which led to a few bedrooms. To her right was the kitchen and a large dining area. The grand windows beyond the living room led out onto a full balcony which was littered with green plants.
"The bathroom's in the there along with pretty much everything you'll need," Slinky announced as she pointed to their right. "Did you want me to try to see if any of my clothes will fit you?"
"Yeah, they couldn't be much worse," Sam joked as she pulled at her blouse. It snapped back against her bra.
"I'll try to cook up something while you're taking a shower, too, but it won't be much." She began rummaging around the kitchen as pots and pans tumbled out of disorganized cupboards. "I mostly just cook breakfast for myself and go out for everything else."
"I could use some eggs and bacon," Sam called out from the bathroom.
Sam really did find everything she needed in the shower, and more. For someone who gave off the appearance of a die-hard tomboy, Slinky had quite the collection of shampoos, conditioners and body lotions. She had her pick of towels ranging from large to small, and from pink to brown. When she pulled back the curtain after the refreshing water she found a neat outfit folded beside the sink. She was also glad to see her old clothes were still there. She wasn't sure how she would explain all the tell-tell signs of a tryst to her friend.
The new blouse and skirt were still a little small, but she found they hardly fit worse than her original clothes. Sam stepped out of the bathroom refreshed and starving. She hadn't had anything to eat yet that day, nor even to drink accept for that single cup of coffee. The smell of scrambled eggs came to her nose and the crackling of bacon reached her ears. Breakfast for lunch was soon served to her at the comfortable dining table and she did justice to the free and delicious food. Slinky was proud when her friend wolfed down her cooking. She was generally considered a walking disaster when it came to food.
"I'm guessing you liked it?" Slinky asked when her guest had finally put her fork down on her empty plate. She was almost disappointed Sam didn't pick up the plate and lick it clean, but she'd done a good job, nonetheless.
"Oh, I suppose it was okay," Sam teased. With food in her stomach her humor had returned. It was amazing what time and food could do to a person's outlook. Before she could catch herself, she burped. Her cheeks blushed with embarrassment as she clapped her hand over her mouth. "Um, sorry."
"Just okay, hunh?" Slinky returned with a laugh. She began picking up all the dishes and dumping them unceremoniously in the sink. There was already a large pile there, and the new ones sat precariously on the top. "Some day I'll get to these, but right now we'd probably better get back to the office." She glanced at her watch and sighed. "Man, I wish we got longer lunch breaks. An hour's not even enough time to get some drinks down without someone smelling them on you."
"Why do you work at all?" The question just popped out of Sam's mouth. She slunk down in her chair. She hadn't meant to be that blunt, now she had to provide herself cover. "I mean, your dad's rich, isn't he? Aren't you supposed to be one of those jet-setting girls who fly around the world enjoying life?"
"My dad's grooming me to take his place when he retires. Says it'll give me character or something." Slinky sighed as she walked back to the table and leaned against the back of her chair. "Besides, he doesn't want me to be one of those lazy rich kids who don't do much."
Slinky looked forlornly out the window, and for the first time Sam was hit by how alienated her friend probably felt in the office. Some of the others on their floor had gotten their positions through influence, but a great many had climbed their way to the top through sheer determination. Some had even gotten a lucky break, like herself. Slinky, however, was the biggest beneficiary of the nepotism system. Every day she probably felt lost at sea amongst glaring eyes and accusing insults. Sam wondered how she kept up appearances with that smile. She wanted to make her friend feel better, and then a plan of action struck her.
"Well, you know the job pretty well now, don't you?" Sam suddenly asked.
"As well as anyone else," Slinky replied with a shrug.
"Well, that counts for something," her friend pointed out. "And who's the first to volunteer to help someone do something?"
"Usually me, unless it's to drive somewhere." She sheepishly grinned at Sam's questioning glance. "I don't have a license."
"And do you leave early like a lot of the others?"
"Nope. My dad would kill me."
"And do you take more than your fair share of breaks?"
"Actually, that's probably true."
"Well, you see you're not that bad at your job," Sam pointed out. They could give her leeway on the breaks. "You may have gotten the position through your dad, but you kept it all by yourself. I bet you even learned a lot of stuff from it."
"That's true." Slinky rubbed her chin and solemnly nodded. "Yeah, you do have a point. I am pretty useful around that place." She paused and glanced again at her watch. "Speaking of that place, we'd probably better get going. It's ten till and it takes almost that long to walk back."
Sam hurriedly grabbed her old clothes, they were unceremoniously stuffed into a bag, and the two friends made their way back to their workplace. Arm in arm they walked through the lobby, into the elevator, and out onto the nineteenth floor.
No one could bother them in their bliss as they marched their way to their cubicles and made it just as the clock announced the lunch hour was finished.
"You two were almost late," Winkle harshly scolded the pair when the two friends sat down in their seats.
"Almost, but not quite, Mrs. Winkle," Slinky playfully reminded their supervisor.
Winkle was visibly ruffled at that remark, but she couldn't argue. Instead she stomped away and left them to their triumph.
"Hey, Sam?" Slinky asked as she peeked over the wall. Sam had half a mind just to cut a hole in it to make it easier to talk. "What say we do lunch together from now on?"
"That'd be great, provided I can cook sometimes."
"Why? Didn't you like my food?" Slinky pouted.
"I did, but I don't want breakfast for lunch every day."
"Oh." Slinky sheepishly grinned and slowly slunk down out of sight. "I guess I'll take that as a good reason."
"You'd better, it's the only one you're getting," Sam countered.
There was quiet between them for a few hours as both of them were paged for certain duties from the board members. The afternoon was getting along before Slinky excitedly slunk into Sam's cubicle. She had a wide grin on her face and her body was trembling with excitement.
"I got it!" she eagerly whispered. "I actually got it!"
"You got what?" Sam was almost worried her friend was going to have a heart attack from joy.
In answer to her question Slinky held up a familiar key chain. "I got Winkle's keys!" Sam's mouth dropped open as Slinky giggled in glee. "You know what this means?"
"We're both going to get fired?" This was really bad. If their supervisor found them with that key chain she'd have every right to believe they stole it. Perhaps that wasn't far from the truth. "How the hell did you get those, anyway?"
"She went in to talk with my dad and I overheard them discussing something about the security. I guess some of the higher ups are worried about a break-in because someone messed with the elevator cameras yesterday." Thankfully Slinky didn't notice when Sam flushed. Davies needed to get a better hand at hiding their illicit affairs. "My dad wanted an inventory of everyone's keys made, so she had to cough hers up along with the other supervisors. I was just in there now and he asked me to give them to her. So you see? We won't get fired if she catches us with them because I'm supposed to give them to her."
"And why aren't you giving them to her?"
"A simple question, my dear Sam." Her grin widened as she clutched the keys in her hand. "I'm going to get some copies made, and then we can see what's behind door number one."
Sam's mouth dropped to the floor. There were so many ways this was going to end badly. She thought losing her job was bad, now she had to worry about going to jail.
Part 4 - Hunger
"Are you serious about this?" Sam hissed as she followed her friend downstairs.
"Positive," Slinky replied. The two were heading for the mail room. Slinky recalled her father mentioning something about all their keys having been made in the building by the mailman.
"You know this is illegal, right?" Sam nervously looked over her shoulder. She imagined the cops were chasing them right now.
"Only if we get caught," Slinky assured as they swiftly flew down the flights of stairs.
"Yeah, which might just happen. Couldn't we have just tried the keys to see which one would've fit the lock?" She was of course referring to the door leading to the twentieth floor.
"No time."
"And we have time to do this?" Sam pointed out. Slinky stopped so suddenly her friend nearly ran into her and caused them both to fall down a long flight of dangerous stairs. "What the hell did you do that for?"
"You're really pessimistic, you know that?" Slinky sharply questioned. "You ever wanted to live a little?"
"Yeah, but if you stop like that again I won't have to worry about living." Her heart was beating wildly as she looked down the flights of stairs below. Moderate heights she could handle, but glancing down those swirling flights of steps was both nauseating and frightening.
"Just think of this as a little adventure." Sam wondered if Slinky feared anything. "What's the worst that could happen?"
"We lose our jobs and get jail time," she curtly pointed out.
"See? That's not so bad." Slinky proceeded down the stairs, leaving her friend dumbfounded on the landing.
"You're kidding, right?" Sam had to remember her friend had the luxury of her father's bank account. She had no such piggy bank to fall back on. "If I lose my job, I lose everything." Slinky paused on a step and thought about that for a moment.
"Well, if you do lose your job you can come live with me or we might share a cell together. You can be my bitch so no one would suspect we're not lesbians," she comically offered. Sam wasn't sure she would take the first as a good arrangement, and the second definitely was bad, but at least she had someone to fall back on. "And we have to sneak down the stairs. Someone will see us if we take the elevator and they might snitch to Mrs. Winkle that we went down to the lobby."
"Does she even have someone who likes her enough to do that?"
"I doubt it," Slinky snorted. "But there's a couple of people on some of the other floors who wouldn't mind a promotion, so I'm not taking any risks." She resumed her stepping and reached the next floor. "But that's why we need to hurry up, slowpoke," Slinky called back over her shoulder to her friend above. "These keys aren't gonna copy themselves."
"This is so going to go wrong," Sam muttered as she went after her companion.
The two women reached the bottom floor and snuck into the mail room without a single soul seeing them. They soon found the mailman, Mr. Cass, getting ready to ship some items out to other offices operated by the company. Slinky put her finger to her lips and, with a grin on her face, slowly snuck up behind the elderly gentleman. Her body was tense for the pouncing, and Sam crossed her fingers that they weren't about to have a heart attack victim on their hands.
"You should ease up on that perfume, Miss Slink," Mr. Cass commented.
"Damn it, Ed, why'd you have to go and ruin my fun?" she complained.
"Because you're not very good at sneaking up on people. I've told you before to lay off that stuff." He turned around and smiled at his pretty, young visitors. "Now what can I do for you ladies?"
"We need some keys made, Ed, and real quick." Slinky held up the chain with the wide assortment of keys. He squinted at the items and frowned.
"These kinda look familiar," he commented. He glanced between his two visitors. "You ladies aren't doing anything illegal now, are ya?"
"Nah, just a prank on someone, honest, Mr. Cass," Slinky sweetly lied. She jingled the set in front of him, but he wasn't convinced. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "If we promise to give the copies back to you in a week, will you make them for us?"
"Certainly," he agreed as he took the set. There was an evil twinkle in his eye. "And if you don't keep your promise, I can't promise that weekly box of chocolates ya get through the mail won't disappear. Those things smell mighty tasty. I wouldn't mind having a few of them sometime]." Sam wouldn't have thought the gentle, quiet old man had it in him to blackmail someone.
"You drive a hard bargain, old man, but I'll make sure they're back and you get what you want," Slinky sullenly promised.
"Now that's the way to do business," Mr. Cass agreed. In a jiffy he disappeared into a side room and they heard a machine start up.
"So why couldn't we just try the old set on the door upstairs?" Sam asked over the sound of the machine.
"With how the old witch makes her rounds, we probably wouldn't have had time to test half of that stuff," Slinky pointed out. "Now we've got a whole week to try these babies out on that door."
"Unless Ed decides he doesn't trust us and says something to someone," Sam countered. Anyone who could blackmail could also back stab. Her sneaky friend, however, wasn't too troubled.
"Believe me, this isn't the firs
t time he's helped me out on stuff like this," she intimated with a wink. "He just asks for a small gift and that I give up or destroy anything that could lead back to him."
"And that's why he wants the keys back?"
"Yep," Mr. Cass interrupted as he stuck his head out of the room. "Don't want anything tempting her with bigger trouble than she gives herself already. Besides, some of those managers lose their keys enough I'd like to have an extra set to hand 'em when they come crying to me." He ducked back in and closed the door.
Sam picked her jaw up off the floor and glanced at Slinky. "How did he hear that?"
"He's just that good," she replied with a shrug.
They only had to wait a few minutes before he was finished with his work. They thanked him profusely and Slinky grinned at her new set of keys as they marched back up the stairs.
"I wonder what else I can open with these things..." she mused.
"Probably a can of trouble, like Ed was saying," Sam scolded. She glanced at her watch. They'd been gone for a while, and it was nearly time for them to leave for the day. She hoped their absence hadn't been noticed, or at least presumed had left early without permission.
"You worry too much," her friend countered as she plopped the new set into her pocket. She still held the old copies in her hand. "Just gotta return these things and we'll just get back to work."
They were met with an unwelcome visitor when they reached their cubicles. Mrs. Winkle stood tapping her foot and with her arms tightly crossed over her chest. To their surprise she was glaring harder at Sam than at Slinky.
"Miss Olsen, do you mean to shirk the few duties you have?"
"No, Mrs. Winkle." She wasn't sure what her supervisor was alluding to as Slinky slipped into her cubicle. Her friend wanted to hide the new pair of keys off of her person as fast as she could.
"Why then did you do it?" With that question Sam could then see part of this interrogation was to make her look like a fool. She was leading her on to increase her show of ignorance and then would make a grand revealing which would embarrass her. She wasn't going to have any of that from this woman whom she didn't respect.
"I didn't mean to, it just slipped my mind." She had a tough time trying not to smirk when her supervisor scowled.
"So you mean to tell me you finished unloading half of our supplies and merely forgot what you were doing?" Sam inwardly winced when she recalled the new shipment she had left half finished on the table in the supply room.
