The Anatomy of Jane Read Online Free PDF

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    It took us exactly two hours and twenty-three minutes to finally finish—which was amazing really, if all things were considered. My back ached as I leaned on the counter. The caterer had been there for an hour and was carefully preparing every dish along with his staff.
    “Okay, I’m not sure of your sizes, but these should work.” The owner was now out of her bathroom and in a tight pink floor-length gown with a built-in pushup bra that screamed ‘stare at my tits’. Around her neck was a long diamond necklace. Her blonde hair was swept to the side, and I wouldn’t lie, she looked stunning. I had found out from one of the guys who were setting up the caviar tray—which looked disgusting—that the lady’s name was Irene Monrova and that she was the daughter of some big investor or something. She’d just come back from France and was holding a welcome home bash…for herself, which seemed really sad, in all honesty.
    “What?” Earlene moved to the stack of real black and white maids’ uniforms. “No. We clean.”
    “I just called your boss, so don’t worry. I’ll pay extra. Come on, go change. Can anyone translate for me?” she glanced over at the food staff.
    Earlene looked at her watch. “ Mi hijo .”
    “Go.” I nodded to her, taking the dress from her hands. She needed to be with her son.
    “Wait what? No! I need you all.”
    “It’s okay. I’ll stay and cover whatever she needs to do,” I said. Carlotta came over, grabbing the black dress and an apron.
    “You speak English?” she glared at me.
    I shrugged. “A little.”
    “You’re not funny, and if I didn’t need you right now, I’d throw you out for making a fool of me.”
    I wanted to tell her she was doing a fine job of that on her own, but I just nodded, though I was tempted to add an ‘okay’.
    She spun around and marched over to sample the food.
    “How much you think we will get paid for this?” Carlotta asked. She was probably a few years older than me, though she was a full head shorter. Foster pointed to the back room where we could change. It was filled with boxes upon boxes of unopened paintings, chairs, and cabinets. There was barely space for us to change, but we managed.
    The moment I tried to button up my dress, one around my breast popped off.
    “Are you serious right now?” I said, staring at my chest. My tits weren’t even that big, but the dresses were just so tight. I looked at Carlotta, whose dress fit her perfectly, and I realized this costume was not tall girl friendly.
    “Can you ask Ms. Monrova if she has another one?” I asked Carlotta and she nodded then headed out.
    I didn’t bother covering up. If my boobs offended them, they were going to have to get over it. I was too damn tired to even care at that point.
    “What is the problem? Now I’m—” Ms. Monrova came forward, stopping when she saw my black bra.
    “You ruined it?”
    “It was too tight. Do you have a bigger one?”
    “No, I don’t have a bigger one. What are we going to do? People are going to be here any minute, and there is no way you can go back out in jeans.”
    “If Mr. Foster could spare T-shirts and bow ties, I can make formal uniforms for Carlotta and me.”
    “Who’s Carlotta?” She stared, utterly confused.
    I pointed to the woman standing right beside her and who had just cleaned her entire house.
    “Oh okay. I’ll have Foster bring you the shirts, but hurry. Don’t ruin this.” She huffed before exiting. You’d think it was her wedding day.
    Stripping out of the dress, I reached into my backpack and grabbed a pair of scissors and my sewing kit. It wasn’t going to have a perfect seam, but at that point, I didn’t care. Carlotta handed me hers as well.
    “You’re so good at that,” she said as I cut off the tops and sewed down the extra material.
    “Years of practice.” If the Bunny Rabbit had taught me anything, it was how to be good under pressure. “Step in, and hold. When I get the shirts,