My only intention was to make Rosy the princess of my Tool for at least once. I called her again next day at around 9 pm and told to discuss something...about the profile. She told yo call next morning. I told her to save my number if possible. She agreed and shut down. I had no idea whether she really saved it or not.Now it’s the time to ping her. I pinged her in WhatsApp at about 9.30 pm saying only ‘Hi Rosy’. I kept my profile photo visible to everyone. It added a benefit for me to let her see. The faintly floral smell of Flora's hair brought him back to the present. Flora sighed softly into his shoulder as he rubbed her neck and shoulder muscles. She melted against him, and he slipped one hand down, and around. Cautiously, he caressed her chest where one erect nipple pressed out through the latex. She "mm-hmmed" her approval, pulled her head up and kissed him fiercely, then pulled away slightly. "Love," she said, looking slightly feral in the angled light of the bedside. I held in my sobbing long enough to reply, “Yeah?”“Are you okay?”“I’m fine, go away.”“Can, can I get you something?”“No, I’m in the bathroom.”“Sorry, it’s just ... Mr. Wainwright sent me to look for you. Do you want me to tell him you’re sick?”“Yeah. Tell him I’m sick,” I muttered the rest to myself, “tell him I’m dead.”“Uhm, okay. You stay right here okay?”Shit. Well that was the last thing I could do. I forced myself up and over to the mirror. Damage control time. I didn’t even have makeup to. Our heads are so close to each other because it was bloody noisy in that club and it was the only way to have a conversation. If some scandal sheet wants to make something of that, then fine, let them. I’ve done nothing wrong, Charlie’s done nothing wrong, so if you want to know what I have to say for myself, you just heard it.”I turned and walked out of the room into the corridor outside, seething. I was joined after a couple of minutes by Becky, our producer.“David, come back inside,” she.