Daisy
The moment I stepped out of my car, it began. Compliments on my 'glow'. The fit, for his age, guard by the booth, smiled extra warmly at me. “Miss Alderwood?”
“Hey Carson,” I waved at him, handing over my keys- our company’s policy is to hand over our keys to the guard at the booth. This is part of the security measures to prevent blame on any individual who is returning to their vehicle during working hours.
Carson and James are the two guards on duty every morning when I get here and Dave and Ashton when I am leaving.
“Is it the hair?”
“I’m sorry?” I furrow my eyebrows, trying to comprehend his words as I handed him my bunch of keys, removing my work card from it.
“Did you do something with your hair?” he drops the bunch down heavily in a numbered box and gave me a tiny
