I asked her if her relationship with Mr. Olson was inappropriate. She stiffened and asked how I knew about that. I didn't respond. She told me that he... relationship with Mr. Olson was in the past and none of my business. I rubbed her arm and told her that I wanted to do some of the things that Mr. Olson had done to her. She told me that it could never happen. I took out the one picture of Mrs. Brown and Mr. Olson that I had put in my backpack separate from the others and laid it on the table.. It was very rare for her to use a four letter word, but this was one of those times its use was justified. 'Now what?' she asked herself. 'I have no means to contact either my husband or the car emergency people. There is only one option, walk to one of the emergency phones that are spaced ever few kilometres along the motorway. She gave a gasp of annoyance as she reached to open the door just when a vehicle pulled up beside her. There were three men, dressed casually but neatly. "Are you. You can fucking leave. See if there is ajob cleaning for another family. I'll make sure you end up on welfareforever." That might happen," I said. "Or I can think of another possibility."She looked at me. "Go on," she said."I have a friend who is a reporter," I said. "He'd love a nice story ona local businessman who injected skin dye into his son, who gave himbreast implants, and who put him to work as a maid. He beat her, and hemade her live in a tiny apartment, and he tried to force her on. ”Santana sighed as if annoyed and said, “Fine. Let’s talk.” She threw her purse on the counter and took a seat on one of the barstools. She crossed her arms and legs and glared at her father. “So? Talk!” she snapped.“So I guess you’re still mad at me, huh? You never told me why you’re mad.”Santana said nothing.Darius continued, “Nobody’s leaving here until we have this conversation. Talk to me... why are you so mad at me? What did I do?”This was it. Santana knew that this was her chance to lay.
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She was hungry for relief. She checked if I was asleep. In the darkness of the plane, she slipped one hand into her skirt and the other in her blouse.
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