He ran his calloused hands through my hair and whispered as he kissed the top of my head, "You remind me so much of your mother, Stephanie." I felt hi... and watched as my blouse was opened button by button. "Daddy? You're drunk. You shouldn't be doing this, I'm your daughter!" I hoped that maybe I could talk some sense into him. I had no chance of overpowering him and he knew it. "I might be drunk but I'm still your father. Now this can go one of two ways. You can do exactly what I tell you to. Dot co, dot UK ….yes, yes, ok thank you.” Just then my own phone rang. Shit, it was my boss. I was late. I made a mental note of the web address and hurried out of the café into the bustle of London in the early afternoon. I paid no attention to the meeting that I was late for, I cancelled two appointments that I had later that afternoon and I said goodbye to no one when I left the building at 5:15. All I could think about was Tamsin and butterscotch coffee. The rest of that week passed like. More

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