Through the Floorboards

8

Walking into work with a prep in my step, a tune in my head, and a desire to dress up to the nines has been my current M.O. since the whole of the last two weeks—well, not the whole of the last two weeks, but the part where I had my world rocked anyway.

I strutted into work and placed my coffee cup and bag on my desk, taking my blazer off and draping it over my chair. I then proceeded to walk over to my boss's office and knock on his door, folder in hand with all the notes from these past few weeks.

He muttered a very chilled-out agreement of entry, and I allowed myself to stand in front of his guest chairs. He leant to the side of his computer screen, and I could see the confusion suddenly set in his face.

"What are you wearing?" He asked as he pulled himself fully to the side and leaned over, placing his hands on the desk.

I looked down at myself and smiled. I was in a brown checkered skirt that sat against my thighs just above my knees, paired with knee-high socks and a pair of brown Nikes, because as much as I would love to wear heels to give a grown boss effect, I am not walking to and from work in heels. I don't care if it's the start of May and the fucking sun is out.

Reflecting my bottom half was a white sleeveless shirt that was crisp and had small brown detailing, and I paired that with my brown checkered blazer that was draped over my chair.

I looked back up at him and shrugged as he narrowed his eyes. "Why have you all of a sudden started dressing like you actually know how to dress?" He asked, as I was fully prepared to be offended by my boss for not being as stylish as him.

"Well, as I took a week off, I decided to rebrand myself, and it also makes up for not having that much on Angie's case due to not actually attending due to attending the first half and being kicked out being a lot easier to say." I rushed through the explanation of why I took an immediate holiday two weeks ago, and in that time, I took a hard look at myself, at my whole situation, and at my life and thought, uh, I should do something about it.

A week ago

"I'm home, honey!" Lilliane called out as she dropped her bags at the door, and I came shooting out of my room, half dressed and looking a mess. I was currently in the midst of reorganising my wardrobe with the new outfits I had bought myself the minute Travis left the apartment, which was yesterday.

I took full advantage of the rest of the week I had with him and decided to take a holiday from Thursday as one I needed to come up with a good enough section on Angie's case despite not seeing the whole thing; I also wanted to get as much out of this thing with Travis as I could before either one of us got bored; and three, I was going to BATH in the fact that I was "deflowered" and up for it anytime.

Lilliane scanned me over and then placed her hands on her hips, giving me a smirk as I frowned a little towards her. "What? Why are you giving me I know what you did look; you know I hate when you do that?" I said as she nodded slowly.

"Why are you running around like a crazy woman? Aren't you supposed to be at work with that case?" she replied as I nodded and crossed my arms to reflect hers.

"Yes, however, I am taking a short holiday. I thought I really needed a new wardrobe, so I got a few new outfits, and that's why I am "running around" like a mad man," I said as her eyes widened and she smiled, shaking her head.

"I knew it; spill it!" She shrieked as she quickly walked over to me, grabbing my arm and pulling me to the sofa, as I tried to hold in a smile and still act confused as to what she was on about.