The petite blonde called from the door. Frankie stood, gathered her courage, and hoped the grip she had on her notebook was not obviously white knuckled with anxiety. She walked past a variety of people, all younger, all looking more like they were auditioning for a starring role rather than a behind the scenes job. “Welcome, I’m Lea.” The blonde smiled as she held the door open. Frankie looked down at the woman though she was wearing stilettos. Without them, Lea may have maxed out at four foot tall. With them she was almost five. “Follow me.” Lea walked in those heels the way Frankie walked in tennis shoes. Frankie considered her own attire as decidedly professional with flare. She wore pinstripe black pants, a baby blue shirt, a black vest, an interesting black metallic necklace with rhinestone baubles, she wore her dark auburn hair in a neat bun, her black square frame glasses, and a nice red lipstick. Frankie’s shoes had a heel, but blocked, not pointed, and two inches not five. She watched Lea carefully as she led the way down a long hallway and past several doors.
