Kaitlin and Marie, Chapter 3

	Here was a surreal scene: Kaitlin was hurrying to clean her own condo top-to-bottom at the behest of another woman.
	Kaitlin had on a simple pair of short shorts and a tank top, and was barefoot so as not to dirty her nice clothes while she performed the sort of domestic labor she despised. She was doing this because Marie's photographer had arrived: a nineteen year-old brat with an olive complexion and short black hair who was just on the cusp of being overweight.
	"I'm not photographing this, the way it is," Anisha said, scowling as she looked over Kaitlin's first attempt at cleaning the condo.
	"Nobody will want to stay here. You haven't even detailed the toilet!"
	Kaitlin felt a flash of rage at the girl's cutting remarks. Who was she to come into Kaitlin's home and start ordering her around? But the threat of failing a task was anathema to the poor girl, so she just sighed and cleaned her condo yet again while the young girl rested on her sofa and refused to help. Instead, Anisha used her expensive camera to get action shots of Kaitlin as she cleaned!
	It was utterly shameful to have herself photographed on her hands and knees using a rag to clean the floors – she looked like a servant in her own home. But Anisha insisted that Kaitlin use a rag instead of a more conventional broom or mop just as she insisted that Kaitlin smile whenever she snapped a photo of her.
	"In my parent's house," the thick teenager explained, "we have our servants clean the floor this way. It is much more hygienic and effective than a broom, and guests will appreciate this attention to detail."
	Did that mean that guests would expect this from her, going forward? Doing it once was bad enough, she couldn't imagine having to turn over the condo this way after each guest.
	It took Kaitlin hours to finally get her condo up to the point where Anisha would photograph it. To add another insult, the girl only snapped about a dozen photos, and certainly not in enough detail to capture all of Kaitlin's painstaking work! The most confusing shot was when she asked Kaitlin to stand by her own front door with her hands folded neatly in front of her and her chin tilted slightly downwards.
	"This will be a great profile pic!" the photographer said, although Kaitlin strongly disagreed.
	It reminded her of a stock photo of some cleaning lady, the way she was standing at attention like that. What could people think except that Kaitlin was here to serve them, when they saw her in this light?? But the girl was gone, and Kaitlin was left in her condo while she still had it to herself.
	The next day at work, she had her first booking.
	Marie's phone pinged as Kaitlin was kneeling beneath the woman's desk giving her a foot massage. A typical task for the unfortunate girl; and Marie's feet were even more overpowering in cramped conditions. Marie's fine desk had a modesty board, so Kaitlin could spend hours attending to the woman's feet even as she had business meetings and phone calls.
	"Oh, that's lucky! My friend Yuri is visiting and she needs a place to stay. I will offer her your place at a discounted rate. That way, we can get a good review!"
	Kaitlin was unhappy that her condo wasn't fully under her control anymore – it was obnoxious on a different level than having Marie's feet constantly in her face. The one good thing in her life was that she had her own place: an apartment where she could be alone and escape the stress and pressure that her demanding girl bosses were always putting on her. Still, over the past several weeks she had spent less and less time at her condo due to the demands of cleaning Marie's penthouse or staying late to finish some task that Miss Royal had put on her desk, last minute.
	"Yuri is a little... high maintenance," Marie explained.
	This really frightened Kaitlin: just how demanding did a woman need to be for Marie to point it out?!
	"It's good training though, because she is the type of client we are aiming for. Make sure she is happy. We want her telling her friends about this experience, so do whatever she asks.
	Kaitlin's stomach knotted up. Not only would there be a strange woman in her condo, but she was expected to wait on that woman hand and foot?
	"Yes, Marie," was her only response.
	She was thinking more about the money and how it would help with her recently acquired debt.
	The imperial woman had promised to share some of the profits from this rental arrangement. Marie would never be specific on a number, and Kaitlin was never confident enough to press her on it. Kaitlin was in dire circumstances and Marie knew it, and she clearly adored having this much leverage over someone. So far, she had fronted Kaitlin just enough to keep her mortgage paid and for her to buy some cheap food.
	Apart from those two expenses being paid, Kaitlin's financial life was a mess. She had given up her car, and stopped buying new clothes, and going out for drinks – all while pouring wine for Jennifer and taking the woman's Audi to be hand-detailed, ignoring her not-so-subtle intimations that it would be nice to have it done right here at work. Kaitlin enjoyed driving the Audi; it reminded her of the freedoms she used  have, even if now it was purely another service she provided for others.
	"She is booking for three nights. Sheets freshened up every night, and she requested breakfast and dinner. I will adjust your hours at work, and send you the recipes."
	"What?" Kaitlin asked, a little petulantly.
	"I didn't think I would need to cook and clean so much!"
	"That is called a competitive differentiator!" Marie responded.
	"Women like Yuri are used to the best. You are competing directly with the Four Seasons; the goal is to provide a degree of service that rivals that of a luxury spa. That's how we will build our clientele."
	Marie's business acumen asserted itself once again – it felt like she was practicing to pitch this idea before a group of investors. With the cost of labor so low right now, it might be extremely profitable.
	"Yuri is used to having a domestic staff; she would feel lost without at least one servant helping her. She's never even used a laundry machine before!"
	Why would such a woman be traveling alone?
	"Just help her, Kaitlin. I want this program to be a success. I don't want the company to keep having to loan you money."
	The mention of the loan made Kaitlin uncomfortable. Once when she was nearly late on her mortgage due to the pay cuts Marie had implemented, she was nearing wit's end. There was no one she could borrow the $2,000 from – Margeaux was heavily in debt already. The loan officers, who acted sympathetic to her circumstances on the surface, were obviously concerned that this girl was needing to borrow money less than a year after signing her mortgage. Kaitlin even suspected that the mortgage company wanted her to fail – she would still owe the money, and the company could basically sell the same property twice!
	This is where the loan came in: in her desperation, Kaitlin had no choice but to go to Marie. This woman, who would spend $1600 on tickets to see a popular musical, was suddenly up in arms about Kaitlin wanting $2,000 to avoid foreclosure. The interview was humiliating, of course: Marie analyzed every one of her financial decisions with a haughty tone, repeatedly implying that Kaitlin's capricious attitude was the root of her financial misfortune.
	The drive of Marie's argument was that Kaitlin needed someone to manage her finances. In fact, she wouldn't lend out the money unless the girl found such an arrangement.
	Kaitlin balked. She found this infantilizing in the extreme; to still do the work of an adult but be treated like some misbehaving teenager who couldn't be trusted with her allowance. But she didn't have a leg to stand on: Marie had the money and Kaitlin needed it, so she had to agree to yet another restriction. And who was better to manage Kaitlin's money than Jennifer Royal?
	The aristocratic woman delighted in taking control of Kaitlin's financial affairs. For all the lavish decadence that Miss Royal indulged in herself, when it came to Kaitlin's life she preached a doctrine of total austerity. Dime store shampoo had stolen a little of the luster from Kaitlin's hair, and her diet worsened to such an extent that she was dealing with oily skin and even a couple pimples!
	"You got a text message from Margeaux... Have you offered her a position here yet?"
	Kaitlin snapped to attention.
	"Not yet," she answered reluctantly.
	"Well hurry up and do that! You know I don't like waiting for things, and don't you want to work with your friend?"
	This was another of Marie's ploys to take control of Kaitlin's life. She probably realized that Kaitlin was drawing strength from her friendship with Margeaux, and now she wanted to take that pillar of support from the girl.
	Kaitlin was seething as she walked into Miss Royal's new corner office. It was given to her as a reward for the El Dorado account, and no one ever talked about Kaitlin's involvement in it. The office almost rivaled Marie's space and reflected the woman's sophisticated and expensive tastes.
	Jennifer was seated behind her antique mahogany desk and a young Vietnamese woman was busy applying nail polish to one of her hands, her pretty face laser-focused on this duty. Jennifer was on a phone call, laughing at every little comment the person made. Occasionally, she would lift her hand very near to her face to inspect the manicurist's work, which always seemed to provoke anxiety within the servant girl.
	There was a routine for this: If Kaitlin came to Jennifer's office and the woman was on a phone call, she was to stand at attention until she was acknowledged. There was a large tray of fruit on her desk: strawberries and cantaloupe sliced in very pretty arrangements. The raven-haired woman had barely touched it, white both Kaitlin and the manicurist stared at it hungrily. She had probably gotten it for free from a prospective client or an obsequious employee. Jennifer finished up the phone call before her manicurist started putting the top coat on her nails.
	"Just wanted to see if I could get you a cup of tea, Miss Royal."
	"Actually, I need your help with something else. I started this tray of fruit not realizing that I had booked a manicure. But I need to eat, so I can keep my metabolism up... Could you do me a favor and feed me these fruits? I would hate to smudge this polish."
	Jennifer smiled as she said all of this, like it was the most natural thing in the world to have a subordinate employee feed her pieces of fruit while she sat at her desk.
	"I know it's a lot to ask... I am willing to give you a tip though. Does three dollars sound fair?"
	Kaitlin despised how magnanimous Jennifer was acting; like three dollars would make any sort of difference to her circumstances! If anything, it was even worse for Kaitlin, knowing she was bought so cheaply. Both of them knew the power Miss Royal wielded, so poor Kaitlin had to accept this demeaning request.
	"Start with the pineapples first," Jennifer said, clicking through some spreadsheets on her computer lazily.
	Kaitlin obediently reached for a sliced piece of pineapple, and gently placed it into Jennifer Royal's mouth. As soon as she did it, she knew things between them had changed. Something about Jennifer's confident expression said it all: this is how things would be from now on. And Kaitlin was the portrait of servitude, neatly scooping up pieces of organic fruit to feed to the very woman who had orchestrated so much of her misfortune!
	"Strawberry," Jennifer would whisper, indicating that she wanted Kaitlin to feed her a strawberry next.
	"I'll take some grapes now."
	To drive home the point, Jennifer would sometimes make eye contact with Kaitlin when she ate a piece of fruit from the girl's hands. She didn't seem to mind much if her lips brushed against Kaitlin's fingertips, but avoided it when possible. The manicurist finished with Jennifer's polish, bowed to her, and walked out of the room, leaving the two women alone.
	"This is the best way to eat! I love being served food like this," Jennifer bragged.
	Then her eyes lit up.
	"Oh, lovely! Pure Alignment got back in touch with me about a sponsorship. Look,"
	Jennifer drew Kaitlin's attention to her computer screen. It showed a bunch of photos of women dressed in athleisure wear: tight cotton yoga pants, athletic bras, crop tops. This was a popular fashion trend with women right now, but what caught Kaitlin's interest was that everything looked so... tight. Kaitlin didn't like this whole 'athleisure' trend for personal reasons, but she at least enjoyed how it was based around women's comfort. None of the clothes she saw on the Pure Alignment site looked comfortable, though. Each piece looked too tight and a many of them showcased the model's bodies in a way that was nearly scandalous. It didn't look like Jennifer's style.
	"They're going to sponsor you?" Kaitlin asked.
	Jennifer laughed in response.
	"No, although they practically begged me to be a brand ambassador for them. I didn't even open their gift package. No, this sponsorship is all yours!"
	Kaitlin dropped a piece of fruit, accidentally. Jennifer made snake eyes at her, and told her to pick it up immediately.
	"Well, I'm not going to eat it now," Jennifer said, referring to the piece of pineapple Kaitlin had just taken off the floor.
	"You may have it."
	Not wanting to provoke the woman further (she was positive that Miss Royal would find some retribution for even a tiny thing like refusing a 'gift'), Kaitlin quickly popped the fruit into her mouth and chewed it up. She had to really force herself to do this -- it had always been a pet peeve of hers to eat something that had touched the floor. The fruit had gathered some bits of dirt, and Kaitlin tried not to think about how that had come from Jennifer Royal; maybe she tracked it in on the bottom of her $2,000 stilettos.
	"I arranged this sponsorship for you! It is a total wardrobe re-haul, with a non-competition agreement, and limited public appearances."
	Alarm bells were ringing in Kaitlin's head.
	"You don't seem very impressed," Jennifer said, after Kaitlin made no reply.
	"Oh, sorry. No, it looks cool. What is this 'non-competition' agreement?"
	"That was the whole linchpin of the deal. Basically, Pure Alignment only wants you wearing clothes from their brand. You'll need to do a full-body selfie each day and upload it to your social profiles while wearing an outfit they choose for you. In addition to that, the clothes they are sending have little microchips embedded in them. Nothing complicated. Just enough to tell if you are actually wearing the clothes, and for how long."
	That sounded like an outrageous violation of privacy!!
	"They're going to pick my outfits?" Kaitlin asked. It was preposterous to her.
	"Yes, Kaitlin!" Jennifer said, rolling her eyes.
	"They have a very specific image they are trying to convey. I think it's a great system. The only downside is that the clothing all needs to be hand-washed because of the microchips, maybe. They need to get their value from this arrangement, not just give away clothes to sit in your drawers."
	Kaitlin fumed. Now she would be wearing some slutty workout costume all the time, and washing her clothes by hand would add a lot of labor to her life.
	"The first batch of clothes is waiting at your condo now. Also, I will have a cup of green tea, the usual. And when you get back, would you mind going beneath my desk to do my foot massage? I know it's cramped down there, but I really need to get this work done and having you at my feet is very helpful to my focus."
	"Yes, Miss Royal," Kaitlin replied, despising the way the woman's smile broadened.
	Kaitlin slumped her shoulders as she walked to the office kitchen to pour yet another cup of tea for her British tormentor. She looked at the women on their laptops and smartphones, in the middle of their workday. They all out-earned her now, doing work that actually mattered and would advance their careers. While Kaitlin was busy grovelling at Marie's feet and acting as a errand girl for Jennifer Royal. The worst part was that her current work was no easier than her old job as an account manager – it was actually much more demanding despite the significantly lower pay.
	She returned to Miss Royal's office with a fresh cup of tea and placed it on the her desk. Then, despite all her inclinations to the contrary, she crawled beneath the striking British woman's desk and contorted herself to get as comfortable as possible. Jennifer enjoyed foot massages that went over an hour, and she wasted no time freeing both her feet from their confining high heels and placing them dominantly on Kaitlin's lap.
	"Make sure you remember to stretch my toes, Kaitlin," Jennifer said from up above the desk. All Kaitlin could see were her very pale feet, her calves, and the sky-blue panties she didn't seem to mind flashing.
	"I'm doing Pilates after work, and it's very important that I am properly stretched."
	Kaitlin chewed her lip in anger, knowing that she was pampering this rich woman's feet so she could perform better in a leisure activity, while Kaitlin would probably be slaving away in her own home for a demanding Russian woman. Jennifer's feet – it still made the hair on the back of Kaitlin's neck stand up every time the woman would rest them on her. She grabbed one of her boss's alabaster white feet and began digging her thumbs into her insteps gently. Above her, Miss Royal sighed happily and let even more of her weight rest on her foot in Kaitlin's lap, pinning her there.