The bathroom was worse. I steered around his discarded underwear and peered into the bathtub. It was rusty and had coats of soap scum. At least I hope... it was soap. Yuck! Somehow I'd thought an environmentalist might be a bit cleaner.The last bedroom had been converted into a makeshift office. There was a beat up army-style metal desk that looked like it might've been new during WWII. It held a beat computer that was probably ten years old. There was also a worn upright filing cabinet and a. He couldn’t believe the way Debbie had come down to breakfast - in too tight pink spandex boy-shorts and a tiny cropped tee, her hair up in pig tails. She looked just like Stephanie and Amber, a teenie sexpot wet dream.While Brett tried to resolve his impossible quandary Debbie continued laying out the table. On reaching her husband’s place at the table, Debbie was met with utter silence. Why didn’t he want her last night? Why didn’t he pay attention to her now? Debbie wanted to say something,. I was ofcourse thrilled. She was wearing her white blouse and blue pleated skirt. He tie was striped red and blue. I invited her in and we sat down on the sofa. I was working on my laptop, told her to relax and gave her the remote for the TV. She loosened her school tie and opened her top button. Flicking through the channels she settled for the music channel. For about 20 minutes I was busy with my reports and did not notice that she had folded her feet and was sitting crossed legged on the. ‘Hello, my name is Damia. I am excited to work with you on this plan!’ she said offering her hand and staring Dhara straight in the eyes for a few seconds before turning to me and doing the same. ‘My name is Dhara,’ said my wife. ‘And this is my husband, Rodan, Rod for short. It is a pleasure to meet you!’ ‘The pleasure is all mine,’ she responded smiling and looking Dhara straight in the eyes again. We sat at the conference table and pulled out the maps of the region and started showing her.