By the time I looked up again, she was halfway through her naked burrito.Her face was expressionless as she asked, "Any questions?"I tried to keep my ...oice low. There were people sitting all around our table. "No, your explanation was thorough, Mistress."A smile broke through. "How many nights were you hoping for?"I thought for a moment. More nights meant more time with her. More nights meant more service, but few additional benefits. "Two, Mistress?" Ah, a go-getter. I have Monday and Friday. She screamed silently at herself, "Close the damned door, Margo! Thisdoesn't happen anymore! Slam the door! Slam the damned motherless door!" Shefelt more like a character in one of her own grandmother's tall tales ratherthan the heroine in a late night melodrama. But try as she might, she justcouldn't close the damned door and interpose its sturdy oak panels betweenthis monstrosity and herself and her helpless granddaughter Beth sleeping upstairs. The male lurched forward, crossed the. More

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