Businesses Should Really Pay More When They Expect You to Do Everything

"There! All done!" Mindy Cooper sat back and surveyed her desk. She'd removed everything that was in it and on it, scrubbed it thoroughly and then rearranged all of her supplies so that now her work space was as neat and as orderly as something fresh out of Office Max. Mindy looked around the rest of the tiny room that  Bernard referred to as her office. What a joke. The humane society had bigger kennels for their dogs than this room.

"How's it going, Mindy?" Bernard Morton came in, a distracted expression on his handsome face. He stopped when he saw Mindy's shining desk. "I see you've been busy."

"No offense but this place is a little on the crummy side. Don't you have a cleaning crew?"

"No, we don't. We believe that it should be up to each individual employee to clean his or her space. I'm glad to see that you already fit in with Kutrate Kemical's corporate philosophy."

Mindy stared at him. "Why don't you have cleaners?"

"We save a ton of money that way. Duh."

"Do you clean your own office?"

"Of course I do."

"What about the factory? Who cleans that?"

"The employees."

Mindy felt like her head was going to start to spin and fall right off her neck. Kutrate Kemicals had to be violating every rule in the EPA's book. "But you manufacture chemicals," she said slowly so that Bernard would understand her. "How can you have the people who make the chemicals be responsible for cleaning up too? I would imagine that keeping this place safe would take a lot of training."

"Oh, we train people. They know what they're doing. Of course," Bernard added reflectively, "we do have a fairly high turnover rate."

"People quit?"

"No, they die. Lots of sicknesses here. Kind of weird."

Mindy couldn't wait for Bernard to leave so she could start taking notes. "Was there something you wanted?"

"What? Oh, right. Yes. I need for you to order lunch for six. I'm having a meeting and we don't want to break for lunch."

Craning her neck, Mindy could see into Bernard's office. Five people were seated around the conference table. "How did they get in there? I didn't see anyone come in."

"I have a back door that I use for people who prefer to keep their identities anonymous," Bernard explained.

"Why would anyone want to be anonymous?"

"Mindy, this is a highly sensitive industry. Naturally people don't want anyone to know that their associated with it. Now please order three large pizzas--pepperoni--and two liters of diet soda. I'd appreciate it if you'd pick it up to save me the tip." He handed her twenty dollars. "Get them from the gas station. Pizzas are just five bucks there.

"Right away," Mindy said. "I'll bring it in when I get back."

"Don't bother," Bernard said quickly. "I'll come out and get it." Smiling his thanks, Bernard returned to his office and shut the door firmly behind him.

Hmmm. Who is in there that my new boss doesn't want me to see?

Mindy didn't know but she was sure that she'd find out before the day was over. She wasn't an intrepid girl reporter for nothing.

Schuyler Square Day Eight Meet Tiffany and Say Good-Bye to Lynnette

What a totally fat girl thing to do. Tiffany Olson sat in her car and looked down at the crumpled Taco Bell wrappers in her lap with complete disgust. She had volunteered to make a junk food run for her friends, saying she'd pick up the food on her way over to Shelley's house. What she didn't add was that in addition to the stuff Shelley and Dree wanted, she'd also ordered three extra 7-Layer Burritos and a large pop. Not diet. Tiffany had shoved the burritos into her mouth, barely tasting them, and then down the drink, all in under twelve minutes. Now she felt sick and she knew she deserved it.

Crumpling up the wrappers, Tiffany threw them in the back of her Honda Civic along with the million and a half other wrappers from McDonald's, BK and KFC. She disgusted herself.

It was all her mother's fault. Tiffany's mother never made a secret of the fact that instead of giving birth to a super model, she'd given birth to short, pudgy Tiffany. The only super thing about Tiffany was the way she super sized everything from soft drinks to French fries. If only Tiffany could get away from her mother permanently. If only she could live with her father.

Tiffany put the car in gear and began the drive to Shelley's house. It would help if she knew who her father was. Her mother had never told her and he had sure never shown up on any of her birthdays. Well, she was eighteen now. Maybe the time had come to start looking for him. Maybe if she found him and they bonded, she wouldn't feel this desperate need to constantly comfort herself with food.

Hey, at least it wasn't booze or pills like some of her other relatives. Just look at Uncle Ron and Aunt Mavis. Those two were walking advertisements for all the local wineries. It was way better to overdose on Taco Bell instead of red wine.

Ugh. Uncle Ron and Aunt Mavis. Two more good reasons to overeat. Tiffany loved the way her mother had sprung on her out of the blue that she'd be staying with those losers while Lynnette ate her way across Italy. Life was so unfair! Why should her mother get to do all the fun things while Tiffany was stuck with her creepy aunt and uncle and her stupid, equally creepy cousins?

Depressed, Tiffany reached for the Taco Bell bag and extracted a Crunch Wrap Supreme. It was Shelley's but she'd just say they'd screwed up the order. Dismally, Tiffany took a bite out of it and instantly felt a little bit better. If only the only thing that made her feel better wasn't a constant stream of calories down her throat.

"Holy crap!" Tiffany dropped the Crunch Wrap Supreme and clutched the steering wheel. A black Audi had popped out of nowhere and was careening toward her. In the fleeting seconds before the two cars made contact, Tiffany had the thought that the Audi looked exactly like her mother's car...