The CEO's Wife's Mate

There was a special place in hell set aside for those who abused the check out chick, Sally Smith decided with a scowl as she swirled her glass.

It had been a long day. God, if she was being honest it had been a long year.  Sundays at the store were always a hit or miss; either they were shit-you-to-tears boring or busy as fuck. Today had been the later.  And when it was busy, when things were not on the shelves because deliveries didn’t arrive till Tuesdays, people became shitheads.

“Oh the screeching,” she hissed to her roommate. “You would think we were murdering their first born.”

Yuki Raine had a sip of her own wine, shooting her friend a grin. They lounged in their pj’s, a pizza box between them, some random radio station playing from Yuki’s computer. Something with a piano and a smooth sax jazzing it all together. Yuki had known Sally all through high school, her father had moved into Sydney with work. Sally warmed to everyone, but Yuki had been a special case with her black hair that had white blonde tips and her amber eyes. Her Japanese heritage in a suburban suburb had made her a target for bullies immediately, and Sally hated bullies.

She would have become friends with her just to piss off the jocks, but they had bonded instantly over a love of animals and graphic novels.  Yuki spent most of her time at Sally’s house over the years, trying to get out from under her parent’s thumb, it had only made sense they move in together almost as soon as high school ended.

Sally let her head roll back, trying to let the bulk of the week’s strain go.  Monday was her only day off and the first she’d had for a fortnight.  She was sure her boss was a sadist or something, the way they were able to work their staff for a tonne of days straight, but get around paying too much over time by making the shifts shorter. She hated it, but she needed the work. It was the only problem with not knowing what you wanted to do with your life.  High School only got you so far; no higher education, no training in a trade and a distinct lack of money and power all spelled out a lifetime of minimum wage.

She tugged at her wavy, and knotty, hair. She’d washed it as soon as she’d gotten home, unable to handle the feel of the supermarket drenching her body, but it would now take most of the night to dry.  The red curls ran all the was down her back, brushing against her arse and always getting caught in everything. She kept it up while at work, usually braided, but after this last two weeks she needed to have it loose to stem the headache that always seemed to plague her. Now she clutched the strands, pulling against her head.

“I don’t know how much more I can take of this Ki,” she whispered miserably. Her hazel eyes closed against the tears she knew she’d shed, if she let them. Even with her eyes closed she took a gulp of her drink, letting it warm her stomach.  “It just feels like too much.”

When she opens her eyes Yuki was nodding sympathetically, her own eyes filled with compassion. Instantly Sally felt guilty, letting go of her hair. She shouldn’t complain so much to her best friend.  It wasn’t like anyone she knew had things easy, Yuki herself held a waitressing job, went to uni and volunteered at a vet clinic whenever she could.  Not to mention the family issues that seemed to constantly haunt her.

Sunday once a fortnight was the only time that they got to spend together, pizza night and the cheapest wine they could get their hands on. And every time Sally had fresh complaints about the hell hole she worked in.  

“Sorry Ki,” she cringed, “I just don’t know what to do with it all any more. This was never the plan, you know?”

“I know, Bell,” she reached across the back of the couch and held my hand. The nickname made Sally cringe a little, her friends and family had called her Tinker Bell as a child, shortened to Bell as she got older. Though it drove her up the wall, she had yet to break any of them of the habit. “Maybe it’s time to let it go?”

“I wish I could,” Sally sighed wistfully. “Everything I’ve applied for I just haven’t gotten anywhere with.” Out of the seemingly millions of things she’d applied for in the last few months, she’d only gotten 2 call backs and an interview. She was grateful that the interview had fallen through, that HR guy had come off a little creepy. She didn’t think she could handle creepy on top of minimum wage.

“Well,” Yuki’s slate eyes twinkled with delight, “you know Mr Tattoos that I’ve been flirting with shamelessly for the last few months?”

Sally frown, wracking her brain for which one of the customers she might be thinking. “The fella with the parakeet that has nothing wrong with it but he always asks for you to be in on the check up?”

Yuki nodded enthusiastically, her raven hair bobbing everywhere. “It turns out he works in the HR department of North Industries.”

As she reached into her sweat’s pockets Sally felt her chest flood with excitement.  North Industries was one of the biggest companies in Australia, it spanned across multiple businesses, but it’s claim to fame was it’s environmental and conservation work.  No company anywhere had a better reputation for protecting the native flora and fauna then North Industries.

There wasn’t a person on the planet that didn’t know about the husband and wife duo who ran the company either. They were often on the cover of any magazine known to man, though there were very few photos of them that weren’t professional shots. Sally couldn’t recall ever seeing them in a unflattering photo. Not that the tabloids didn’t try, there just didn’t seem to be any evidence to back up their wild claims.

Yuki flicked a business card her friend’s way. “They’re looking for a new personal assistant, and I got you an interview for tomorrow.”

Before she even caught the card Sally had launched herself across the couch, pulling her best friend into a hug and trying not to cry too much.

***