No note.No note. Just a phone number. When the shock wore off, she hurried around like a demon pos- sessed woman, getting herself ready to go retrieve the Firebird from the impound lot. After two hours spent retrieving her car, she returned home just in time to fix Tammara's lunch and send her back to school. She spent the rest of the afternoon trying to get up the courage to call the number, but never managed it. That night, she drove to work and danced her 9 to 2 shift without a hitch, except that she had the pleasure of telling John she'd not be "entertaining" Friday or Saturday Night and, when he asked her what she meant, she said she didn't need the extra money any more. To her surprise, he just shrugged and said, "suit your- self. It's fine by me." When she walked out the front door at two in the morning, she was happy as a lark, but very puzzled about the non-appearance of her benefactor --- her new found master, she hoped. The next morning, she hustled her two "troops" off to school and work by 7:30 and then determinedly sat down at the kitchen phone and, retrieving the white wrapper from her purse, she dialed the phone number. A male voice answered with a deep firm "hello". "Are you busy? I don't want to bother you," she said in her lowest, sexiest, and most submissive and subservient tone. "I missed you last night --- are you alone, now?" she blurted out. |