The Princess Who Almost Never Smiled

Daddy's Little Princess... and the Honest Woman

Que the fake laughs, Violet thought. Henry spoke again. "I am even more excited to commemorate this amazing addition at my cooperation's annual Christmas Party. Invites only, I'm afraid."

"Will Violet be there?" a reporter asked.

Henry plastered a smile on his face. Violet wished she could do the same. "Well of course!"

"Violet!" someone shouted. "Are you bringing a date?"

She answered indifferently. "No."

"What's the matter?" Another voice rang out through the crowd of reporters. "Aren't you excited to be part of the team?"

Henry interjected. "Of course she is! Violet's just had a bit of trouble lately, with the men. Nothing a little Christmas Party can't fix." He nudged Violet's side, acting as if the two were normally playful with each other. "I'd love to see my little princess happy again. That goes for anyone out there. Get my Vi to smile and a certain high-ranking position might just become available."

Another rehearsed chuckle from the CEO. "Funny how that works."

One of the reporters laughed as well. "Your beautiful daughter and a position in your company? Whoever makes her smile is one lucky guy."

Violet rolled her eyes. Real lucky. How incredibly nice it must be, as a straight male, to date a lesbian.

Let the games begin, Violet thought.

***

Brooklyn watched the rain come down. It was a miserable day, one that she desperately wished would end. Then again, she knew that even if the rain cleared up, tomorrow would be no different. Neither would the next day, or the next, or the next.

The blonde sat in a coffee shop, hands tightly woven around a steaming cup of espresso. Brooklyn's left leg trembled in anticipation. This, of course, was only one of her many nervous ticks; she also couldn't help but bite her bottom lip, or chew off her fingernails— those that she had, anyway.

Perhaps today was the day. When the man who had accepted her job application returned, he might just tell her that she was hired. It was hardly anything to be excited about; most people Brooklyn's age had newly obtained degrees and were off preparing to do great things, or surely attempting to, not looking for a crummy job in a hardly profitable cafe. But Brooklyn hadn't had the money to attend college, nor did she now. The most she could hope for was a minimum-wage job where she felt at least semi-accepted. She hadn't yet gotten one of those. One with a minimum wage pay check, certainly, but a friendly environment? She thought not.

Somehow Brooklyn's sexuality always came up, and for some reason, it always proved to be a problem. Her last steady job had been nine to five, eight long office hours of answering phone calls. It hadn't been so bad, at least, until one of her co-workers unintentionally made Brooklyn the talk of the office. Brooklyn knew not to mention the girlfriend she'd had at the time; while the information wasn't guaranteed to do harm if released, it certainly wouldn't do any good. But she'd gotten fed up with Nancy from accounting pestering her relentlessly on why she wouldn't give Todd from seventh floor finance a chance. Brooklyn was an honest woman: trustworthy, reliable. She couldn't bring herself to lie. Word spread quickly that she didn't bat for the "right" team, and her work quickly became dreadful.

Since then, Brooklyn picked up jobs here and there that were hardly enough to pay her bills. Even worse, the work atmosphere at every one seemed tense. Sometimes, people were not just off-put, but frightened at the idea of working with a lesbian. Brooklyn would never understand how there seemed to be no safe space in one of the largest, most liberal cities in the country.