I gave a small, grateful smile. "I won't. Thank you for understanding."
He gave a grunt, then waved a dismissive hand. "Get changed. We're packed tonight."
With a nod, I headed to change, exhaling the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. At least that went better than expected.
I pulled my coat tighter around myself as I made my way to the back, slipping into the locker room. The fluorescent lights buzzed above, casting an unflattering glow on the rows of dented lockers. As I shrugged off my coat, my reflection in the small cracked mirror caught my eye. My lips pressed into a thin line.
The uniform.
I hated it.
A black, low-cut blouse that hugged my curves too tightly, paired with a skirt that barely skimmed mid-thigh. It was designed for one thing—attention. Unwanted, leering, suffocating attention. I yanked the hem down and adjusted the neckline, but there was no fixing it. I was stuck in this second skin of exploitation.
"Back to work, Lene?"
