But then it got worse. Mother wanted her to both learn and suffer for what she had done. After all, it had been kind of a big deal. Her motives were bad and her actions were bad and she was bad, bad, bad.
Mother needed something that would be unpleasant to keep Darlene busy, so the final verdict had been a summer job of sorts. A job! She would help out at the family bank, serving beneath the lowest man as his personal assistant. Darlene would have to conduct herself in a responsible, respectable, and professional manner, all the while being (ideally) humiliated.
So that was where she was now: pencil skirt, blouse, hair in a bun, the whole nine yards. Darlene had even gotten some large round glasses, because if she was going to be a secretary, she was going to be a cute one, god damn it. Her heels clacked as she strolled the halls she had never seen in this light before, searching not for the office of her uncle or anything one else actually important, but for a chamber near the front without a name plaque on the door. It was a shared space now, barely big enough for the two desks pushed into it. And the sight of the young man - her boss - already in there nearly made her drop the box of belongings she had brought for her desk.
“Jesus Christ,” she said. “Connor?”