"Well, let me ask him," and you look at me and say "If Jill texts you a short list, do you mind picking up some wine and drinks, she's running late." ...ou see me look a little annoyed and say "She said pretty please." I just nod and then you say "He said sure, just text it to him but he did ask if you'd wear those boots you wore to the holiday party last year, he couldn't stop talking about them," as you look and wink at me. You know I always though Jill was your hottest friend and flirt with. You give me a sharp, stinging slap on the rump, and tell me in a rough, eager, demanding voice to snap out of it, that I have work to do. I am so dazed that at first I don’t realise what you mean, and I start to pull my skirt down and reach for my top – until you slap my hand away. With an impatient grunt at my stupidity, you take a fistful of my skirt in one hand and a clump of my hair in the other, and you push me against the tree and also down onto my knees. My head is brought level with. More

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