Digger didn't stop until she pulled into the emergency room of her mothers local hospital. Her fingers shook as she pulled they keys out of the ignition. Get up. Get out of the car. But instead she leaned her forehead against the wheel, tears running down her face, as she gulped for air. For about five minutes she sobbed, really it could have been an hour. She lost track of time. The only thing that ended it was a sharp knock on the window. The source of the knock a young nurse in a maroon set of scrubs.

"Are you okay?" Her voice muffled by the glass. The woman's forehead wrinkled with worry. Digger nodded and wiped at her face. "Are you sure? If there is..." She trailed off when Digger shook her head.

She had to wait for the nurse to step back before she could get out of the car. She offered her thanks but didn't stay for conversation, instead hurrying up to the hospital entrance quickly.  The nurse behind the desk wore a light blue set of scrubs, and way too much make up. "Is there a Mrs. Francine Angel here today?" The nurse looked at her chart.

"And who would you be to her?" She looked up to Digger and tried to offer a comforting smile.

"I'm her daughter."  She chewed her lip nervously and looked around the busy waiting room.

"Well I'm sorry, I can't say much on her condition. But she arrived a half hour ago. She's in surgery, I would say you have a few hours before you know anything. I'm sorry. I know it/s tough to wait." She gave a sympathetic look and reached out to pat Digger's hand. Which without knowing it, Digger pulled away from it.

"Alright thank you. I have a phone call to make anyway. Where are your pay phones?"

"Down the hall and take a left, they are right next to the restrooms. Can't miss them."

Digger nodded and turned away from the counter. She would waste no time. She probably should call hr first to call off,but she had a much more important call to make. She found the pay phones and dialed the number for MoW corp, when the front desk answered Digger cleared her throat. "May I please speak to Chris Masters? This is Digger."

"It's really no problem." He told her as he finished up, putting the last plate in the rack to dry. He understood how she felt to an extent. She was in a situation she wouldn't normally be in with a person from work. She wanted to be courteous. And yet, he couldn't let her kindness go unrecognized.

when she told him he could stay or go, he chuckled. "And where would you have me go?" he asked. "Or did you forget we left my car downtown?" He chuckled as he returned to his seat to wait for the woman to get ready. He thought about going to make the bed, but he decided not to overstep his boundaries. She may want to change her sheets after having him sleep in them. He waited patiently until she was ready to go, and when she walked out the door, he would be right there beside her.

10:00 am Saturday morning.

Diggers job was never done. She walked through a local bookstore taking her own physical stock of the books they had published. Actually listening to what people said. Next to one of the displays she saw a large cut out.  With an add of her own design. She snapped a picture of it with her camera and dropped it back into her bag. Before she could even snap her bag shut her phone began to go off.  She mumbled to herself and searched through her purse for it. Why did she carry such a large purse with her? Finally she dug it out and pressed the answer button.

"Hello?" She answered and started to walk out of the store.

Razie? Baby!  How are you? What are you up to? " Her mother's voice crooned over the phone.

"I'm fine ma. I'm doing some errands before work." Inwardly Digger groaned. She should not have said that.

"You still work at that book place? They don't treat you well enough.  Making you work weekends! Who do they have running that place, a dictator?  Every time I call you, you are working. Even when you aren't at work you are working. Really you are working yourself too thin. I've seen your face book page. You are practically skin and bone! Speaking of skin your complexion is getting..."

Digger groaned and rolled her eyes. She was off. Ranting about everything. "Ma! Ma! I gotta go..." She pretended to cup the phone. 'What's that? Yeah I'll be right in." She came back on the phone.  "Okay ma love you. I gotta go..." The sounds that came over the phone next horrified her. A horn honking and the squealing of tires. The crash came next. A horn blowing. Finally she heard her mother breathing shallowly and the line went dead. "Ma? Mom!?!" Her phone slipped out of her hands and to the floor. Shattering the screen and breaking into several pieces flying across the floor.

"Oh for the love of...!" She didn't bother to pick up the peices. The phone was destroyed.  Instead she ran to her car. And started to back out. Nearly hitting another car in the process. Leaving their horn blaring at her for a few seconds. Soon she  pulled out of the parking lot and was off. Heading for South Carolina where her mother lived. Digger didn't even think about work. Or Rai. Or calling in. Her only thought was getting to her mother.

She chuckled, watching him look away, like the usual chivalrous Chris. Everyone in the office had come to know by now, Sho was very comfortable in her skin, with her body. She had come to accept her flaws and imperfections. As he sits next to her she shakes her head, offering a kind smile.

“You can make it up to me, another time.”

She winks his way, before digging into her breakfast, yet to get ready for work, or shower.

“Right now, I’m actually more concerned for your head. Is it throbbing?”

She teases, gulping down some of the egg, before sipping on her warm coffee, her stomach satisfied as she cleans her plate. Last night had been a long night for them both, and as if karma had a helping hand, her head begins to hurt also.

The woman had only gotten two hours of sleep, insomnia catching her in it’s tight grip. By seven in the morning, when the sun had made it it’s personal job to blind her, she was up, making breakfast. Sho’s house reflected on her, she was neat, it was modern, black, white and grey, not too much colour. The woman lived a lavish lifestyle yet materialism and owning all these goods didn’t really make her innately happy.

Still dressed in her nightwear, she sets two plates down; scrambled eggs, hash browns and a side of chicken sausage. Next to the plates were two cups of coffee, hers was extra dark, no sugar, and she had left the milk next to Chris’ just incase he wanted it. Even the presentation of the food was impeccable.

As he calls out, she smiles.

“I’m here,” she responds, sitting at a chair and waiting for the man to join her.

She watches his reaction to the kiss on his cheek, laughing at his playful nature.

“Yes, I might’ve just planted that.”

She mirrored the same humour before turning to Mr Wickle, eyes widening a little as he had not taken the kiss the same way they had, and before she could clarify they weren’t a couple, he was off. She snaps her mouth shut, before laughing it away, watching the man down drinks like it was nothing - it would affect him later though.

They talked for the duration of the night, Sho not taking any alcohol but sipping on cloudy lemonade, to refresh herself. She met with other publishers, discussing certain books, the works of George Orwell, the scandal with James Frey and how it had shaken the industry way back when. The night had been long but enjoyable and when they give the final toast, she sighs a sigh of relief.

Her attention is directed towards her partner, biting her bottom lip at his drunk status before nodding.

“Yeah, no driving for you Mr. Come on, I’ll get you back.”

They make their way back to her car, Chris’ arm slung over her shoulder, before slipping him into the passenger's seat. As she makes her way to the other side and gets in herself, she turns the engines on and off they go.

“So, Chris, where do yo-” She turns to the side as they stop at traffic and to her surprise, he was sleeping.

“Well, that isn’t a problem.”

She shakes her head before making her way back to her apartment, Lorenzo, the night guard, helping her with Chris. Once he was settled on her bed, his white tie set on her bedside table, she slips into her nightgown, taking the couch for the night.

The Westin.

Of course.

Upon stepping inside, they were met with a waiter, pushing a tray of champagne in their face and after they both decline, he makes his way around the room, offering the guests a chilled drink. Sho wasn’t a drinker, she had never had an alcoholic beverage in her life and, needless to say, she didn’t feel an inkling to either.

The room was full of people, none in her field probably, but the reason she was an attorney at a publishing firm spoke volumes about her keen interest in books; the writing world; literary pieces. Books had a humbling way of taking someone out of their world, placing them in a completely different dimension and making them forget everything in theirs momentarily. They were her little therapy and being surrounded by the very people who made it happen gives her somewhat of a rush.

When she turns to her boss, a big smile is splayed across her face, raising her brows in excitement before it’s stripped away by the presence of Greg; a man who had been the biggest pain to work with. When he mentioned more work that he had and their -possible- collaboration, she studies Chris, watching as he feigns enthusiasm and a smile. She too follows suit, nodding, internally thanking the man next to her for pulling them away, after an excruciating 20 minutes.

She couldn’t handle another Charles.

During the whole evening, her and Chris’ arms stayed interlocked and when they make their way to Mr Wickle, she comes to find they’re standing right under a mistletoe, Sho laughing at the coincidence.

“Would you look at that?” She muses, turning from the old man to Chris, before placing a soft, gentle kiss to his cheek. Though the man was undeniably handsome, a kiss to the lips would’ve probably made things at work awkward, not to mention the strict -no dating co-workers- policy.

When Molina got home she kicked her pumps back off upon entering the door of her condo. Tossed her little purse aside and reached behind her. As her dress was unzipped she took a deep breath. Finally taking in the breath she had been dying to take since she put the dress on. Watching herself in the mirror she bent over and slid her panty hoes off one leg at a time. Piece by piece she dropped her clothes off as she headed for the bathroom.

Once she had the door shut behind her she bent over again and shook her hair.  Bobby pons making tiny clink sounds on the floor as they hit. She had to steady herself when. She stood up too fast and managed to make herself feel quite woozy. "Woah Mo-mo. " She told herself before shaking her head. Once she felt steady she pushed off the sink. Before she looked away she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her body was physically fit and breasts lacked any kind of sag. However a deeper look...and washing away the concealer would uncover her true imperfections.  Each of them she had written on her body throughout her life in the most permanent of ways. Some lines were short. Some were long.  Some even jagged. Each told a story though.

The first she remembered clearly.  She licked her fingers and wiped away what the days work had not. The pinkish red line k. Her left hip standing out boldly. It was the first time she had ever written an imperfection on herself. Her mother had been a drunk...and married several times. Her third marriage and the first time she had loved a man as a father had broken her trust. Also other things. While she had scarred herself he scarred her soul.

She turned from the mirror and tapped the faucet of the tub. Hot water began to pour out. Once it was to the right temperature she turned on the shower. Stepping inside and letting her body adjust to the heat. She remembered the first time she had slipped and allowed someone to see her stomach without being covered. 'You're only doing this for attention Mo-mo. You are far too perfect. Why would you do that other than for attention?  You have popularity.  You look great.  You are even going places with your life. Jeeze Mo-mo get over yourself Drama queen.'

She shook her head to chase away the bad dreams that haunted her every waking moment. She could put on a show just fine. Even pretend to be perfect. But at the end of the day she would always know the truth. She squeezed some shampoo into her hair and started washing when she heard her phone go off. It was probably not important.  Yet about half way through rinsing out conditioner the phone went off over and over again. So she finished rinsing before jumping out and grabbing a robe to tie around herself.

The phone rang again just as she got to it. One of them was Maru from work...The next six belonged to her little friend Courtney who lived across town in her old apartment complex.  All demanding to come over now. Soon she stopped reading anf responded to go on ahead. When Courtney arrived she was in quite a shape. There was a baby bump sticking out a little and she was in tears. It squeezed Mo-mo ' s heart. The girl was only sixteen.

When Molina lived in that apartment complex the girl and her parents lived across from her. When her parents would fight with her Courtney would spend the night and go home when everyone cooled off. That proved not the case this time after a tub of Ben and Jerry's and a box of tissues. The girl was pregnant. A she liked had got her drunk at a party had sex with her and denied it since. Her parents called her a heathen and kicked her out for good. Or so Courtney said. Could have been spoken in the heat of the moment.  She texted her parents telling them that Courtney was there.  To which they said to keep the little **** and hung up calling her sinful. So the rest now the night the girls giggled and watched movies together and got a pizza. Yeah she would have to work it off. But tonight was important. She could handle a little splurge.

The woman really didn’t have anything to do that night so when he took her by the arm and practically invited her to mixer, she felt a certain obligation to go. That, and some of the greatest people would be there, maybe a few she knew already. What harm could it do?

They continue walking, Sho looking around and wondering where the event would be held, her feet really beginning to pay the price for her **** heels. Everyday, she would tell herself beauty is pain - her personal mantra to keep her going, and yet, it never did lift her spirits. The woman was leaning against her boss now, before beginning to speak, her voice alluring, almost a whisper as if they were sneaking around.

“Well, let’s make sure Lace doesn’t find out I’ve cheated.”

If Sho had anything, it would be a sense of humour; she loved to lighten up the mood in the office whenever she was there. They worked at a publishing firm, for goodness sake, if they didn’t have a little banther, they’d practically die. She hoped this little party would get her mind off tomorrow and the dreaded meeting with Charles.

Sho was making her way to her car when she slowly came to stop, smiling at Chris, who was just stepping out of his, looking rather lavish. The man looked amazing, standing tall in his Dior suit, all black, excluding the tie. The woman was actually quite impressed and gave a shameless whistle as she eyed him up and down. Where could he possibly be going?

“Chris Masters, who knew?!”

She laughs at his comments about her date, shaking her head before nudging him playfully.

“No, she uhh. . . had to go home. Apparently she was late to work this morning and didn’t want that to be a recurring theme.”

Knowing he’d understand who she’s referring to, she shivers, her lack of clothes not compatible with the cold breeze. Her hands move up the length of her arms, rubbing her skin in an attempt to warm herself, before raising her eyebrows and giving him a taste of his own medicine, in the same teasing manner he so graciously offered.

“Well, I should be asking you now! Who’s the lucky girl?”