“Oh, it’s you cooking, I thought maybe it was Charles” she said. My eyes were still focused on the skillet “Nope just me” I said, when I loo...ed up I was shocked to see that her eye was blackened and bruised. “What the fuck happened” I yelled out. I began thinking about the previous night when I was around the fire. Brandy tried to cover her face and was silent. “How and who did that to you” I yelled, I was mad seeing her like that. I waited for a few seconds then she told me who and how. Her. I generally wears skirts that are not too short but high enough to entice interest by gentlemen aroused by that sort of thing. I like to wear thongs instead of knickers for reasons I will relate forthwith. My breasts are really nothing to write home about but they are reasonably functional with tweaky little nipples that are easily discerned when I choose not to wear a bra apparatus. Probably, my best feature is my heart-shaped bottom that most of the men in my life remark as. She was the one that had made me a secretary when she knewthat I could not type, take shorthand or, because of her demands, get towork on time. The manager said he was sorry but I was being let go. Iwasn't too worried. I hated the job anyway and wouldn't mind some timeoff at home.Betty was furious with me calling me a stupid worthless ungratefullittle bitch. Where had that come from? Was she right? Maybe it was myfault that I'd gotten fired. I had to have been very bad for it's almostimpossible. I said we could probably help. We agreed to meet. I suggested a restaurant in the West End; she came up with an alternative, "The Rose By The River Hotel." I hadn't heard of it but then I'm like a lot of taxi drivers — I hardly ever go south of the river.When I got there, I realised I'd been missing something. It billed itself as a boutique hotel. Not far from Tate Modern and the Globe Theatre, it was a short walk from Borough Market and the City itself.I got to the sixth floor and the.