Chapter 11

“For my file, darling, so I remember your beautiful coloring and bone structure and how you look with your masses of soft hair.” She smiles at me, eyes dazzling like a kid at Christmas. I’ve no idea why that’s a necessity at all.

“I love your hair down,” Margo chimes in softly, eyeing me with a smile. “It makes a world of difference, Emma, really. It softens your whole face.” She regards me with a warm expression and keen eye, adding another layer of ‘uncomfortable’ to my mood.

“You don’t think it’s unprofessional?” I question smarting. I want them both to back off and stop scrutinizing me; it’s making me nervy.

“Nowhere in the office uniform manual does it say ‘have your hair tied up like a schoolmistress,’” Margo replies. The two women giggle somewhat surprisingly, killing the whole aura of mature professionals. “We work in a very high-profile business that requires attention to image,” she continues. The heat in my cheeks rises with irritation at the giggling an