She smirked with a sultriness that was already causing less slack in my jeans. I stopped just short of her. She had her head turned to the side lookin... at the ground, waiting to see what my next move was. "What's the matter," she said, "don't you want me?"No sooner than the final world had left her mouth I scooped her up in my arms, pulling her body against mine. She looked up at me surprised. She didn't move a muscle. She just waited. "You know better than that," I said lowly as she continued. She did mention that he was a pig and that any self-respecting girl would never work for him. She got back to work when he entered the room. He was about forty, tough looking, with a couple of scars on his face, gray hair in a brush cut, smoked a cigar, but wore an expensive looking suit without a tie. I left feeling vanquished. Back in Boston I gathered the last of my things. My family was watching Mrs. Doubtfire on the television when it dawned on me. I had done some acting in high school. I. More

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