Stopping at the back room door, she turned with a slight smirk on her face.  “Mike didn’t do a good job last night.  Make sure that toilet shines tonight, okay?”

“Bitch,” I said under my breath.

Closing the door behind her, I could almost hear her gloating in the back.  We used to be great friends before, used to hang out almost every other weekend with her and her boyfriend - who coincidentally decided to quit a month ago.  Seems he found his replacement.  I’m still confused on how they managed to be a couple. 

They have almost nothing in common.  She’s spontaneous and outgoing and he’s a raging jealous nut who acts like an overprotective father.  I can’t blame him, though, she is gorgeous.  She’s just the perfect height as some say.  Five feet four inches tall with a milky white complexion coupled along with soft sensuous skin that complements her figure. 

She doesn’t workout anymore, but she doesn’t need to either.  As a former cheerleader she carries her natural frame very well.  Slender and sleek, she has just the right amount of thickness to her hips and legs with the firm waist to company.  This gives her a lovely hourglass figure that isn’t exaggerated. 

Her breasts are just shy of a C cup, but you could never tell by the tops she wears that hug and perk her beautiful mounds up tight.  Her hair, a dark auburn that she usually ties up in a bun or ponytail for a more professional look, shines and darkens with the changing light. 

She wants to be taken seriously and she normally dresses to that fact.  But since she’s been working here, since she’s been my boss, it’s been downhill for us on a professional level and a friendship one as well.  I can’t even remember the last time we went out for lunch, although she has asked a few times in the course of her stay here. 

I’m just being stubborn I suppose.  But then again, she can be a bitch with her bossy tone.  Maybe that’s what bothers me, a former friend now telling me what to do.  One thing that can’t be denied though, her skills in retail are sound.  And it does look like it’s going to be a slow night.

“Don’t forget to dust the lights, you forgot last week,” she yelled from the back. 

“I didn’t forget.  I just didn’t do it,” I said making sure she didn’t hear me.

One thing about having so much to do, it makes the night go by a lot quicker.  I was easily able to get most of the stuff done with almost no interruptions.  People came and went and I finished most of the duties on the list - all except the restroom duties.  So, as time went by I just hung out and kept myself busy. 

Our restroom is in the back, where she’s working on our inventory.  I’d hate to let her sit there and watch me while I scrubbed.  I’d wait ‘till later when she’d be done and out from the back.  I knew she might gain a sense of satisfaction from watching me - didn’t want to give her that feeling.

“So how are things going?” she said as she walked out from the