Even now, he was climbing the stairs to her private office to discuss their options of responding to the latest violence swirling around them like a t...rnado of trouble rising up when one least expected it.Belinda was standing on a chair working on the tricky kerosene lamp that had a tendency to stop working at the most inopportune times. The sight of her bare ankles was enough to arouse his manly juices but he pretended like he was bored with the need to report to the “Boss” like some lackey. She was too tall, too thin. Her hair was too dark. Her skirt was too long. Nothing that I liked in a girl except, well, she was a girl.She walked up to the bar and ordered a white wine. Her voice was a bit deeper than I liked, too. She turned, sipped her wine, and looked at the band and the dance floor. Immediately one of the other guys walked over and said something to her. She smiled but shook her head. He spoke again, and again she shook her head. He must be asking her to dance, I thought,. More

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