Jennifer was good at her job and loved it. However, I hated the fact she was forced on me. She was young, beautiful, and thin. Everything I never felt that I was, and she always insisted on wearing heels and cute little suits in the office. Really? Who had such bionic feet that they could wear those day in and day out. My attitude toward her bordered on civil with a touch of sarcasm. I was sure she had stories to tell the women in the church on how hard I was to work with. I told myself I didn’t care. I’d wear flip-flops and flats at my desk and sequester all shoes over a two-inch heel to be worn only on Sundays.