While Susan and Jon were tumbling into the supply closet at Emerald Hills, Linda Gibson was scurrying up the steps of the McMillan mansion. She'd gotten a text from her boss telling her she'd decided she wanted to buy a dress she'd tried on the other day after all, so had needed to speed across town to pick it up from the boutique and get it back to the mansion in time for Susan to wear it to dinner that night. She'd had to rush, and was panting a bit when she arrived, but a quick check of the garage showed Susan's Jaguar hadn't yet returned, meaning she'd made it in time.
Linda was nearing 50, quite old to be a PA, and indeed it wasn't the role she'd envisioned for herself. She'd originally been an administrative assistant at McMillan industries, still a secretary essentially, but not one who ran around picking up dry cleaning or getting coffee; it was mostly manning the phones, keeping timetables, and paperwork. It wasn't the most prestigious job, but considering Linda hadn't been able to afford college after her father blew through their savings on some whackadoo archeological dig that turned up nothing, it hadn't been a bad place to land. Of course that had all changed eight years ago, when to her mind, her life essentially went to hell in a hand-basket.
Susan McMillan had apparently asked her husband for a personal assistant, and rather than hiring someone new, Richard had just transfered Linda from McMillan industries secretarial pool. Linda doubted Richard could have even picked her out of a crowd, the decision likely being random. In any event, Linda had found herself at the beck and call of the alpha bitch trophy wife, constantly being sent hither and dither at Susan's whim. She would have considered quitting, but the job shift coincided with her husband Roger abandoning the family, and Linda couldn't afford the loss of income. She also wouldn't put it past Susan to blacklist her if she quit, and the reigning McMillan certainly had the clout to do that in Lakeview.
So she'd been stuck working for Susan for close to a decade now, even after Richard had passed away six years back. Luckily she wasn't required to be with her boss all the time, as indeed, Susan didn't want her hanging around when she was socializing at the club or the like. A lot of her responsibilities were actually being the main point of contact between McMillan Industries and it's new owner and the admin that came with it; Susan wasn't the CEO like her husband had been, but with majority ownership, she was still chairman of the board and occasionally needed to sign off on the bigger stuff. She also coordinated the rest of Susan's personal staff, kept track of her social calendar, booked appointments, and more, all while being on call 24/7 if Susan wanted anything, something that made her dread the personalized ring her boss had insisted on putting on Linda's phone.
As Linda swiftly stepped upstairs towards the master bedroom to deposit the garment bag with the dress, she took her habitual care not to break anything; Susan liked to decorate with expensive artwork. As she was walking through an upper floor hallway, she had to stop in her tracks as a figure stepped out in front of her.
"Oh, it's you," Sarah McMillan said in a tone dripping with disdain as she realized she'd almost run into her mother's assistant. Sarah had changed out of her cheerleading uniform from that afternoon's practice, but had yet to don her own outfit for her and Susan's dinner that evening, so at the moment she was wearing a hot pink tanktop and white sweats, her hair still wet from the shower she'd evidently taken.
Linda couldn't help but note how well Sarah filled out said tanktop, and not for the first time lamented how someone so beautiful on the outside could be so spoiled and mean on the inside. Susan wasn't a great boss, demanding, condescending, and inconsiderate, but Sarah was a thousand times worse in Linda's opinion. Susan might revel in her privilege and wealth, but Sarah had always had it, which led to a girl with a severe lack of empathy who nevertheless looked like an all American sweetheart. Big innocent blue eyes, dimples, and an adorable smile could easily mislead those who hadn't seen the mean streak lurking below the surface.
'then again, maybe I'm letting my jealousy run amok' Linda chided herself. Linda was a rather plump woman, and all to aware of the fact that she looked every day of her 48 years. In all honesty she hadn't been anywhere near as gorgeous or athletic as the cheer captain sneering at her even when she was Sarah's age.
"I'm so sorry, Miss McMillan, I just need to drop of this dress for your mother," Linda explained. Sarah just rolled her eyes, a perfectly typical interaction for the two of them, except that Linda noticed in that moment, for some reason, Sarah's eyes looked green, almost a perfect match for Linda's own.
