she lingers by the door after everyone else has gone, wringing the hem of her latex apron
Sir... may I confess something? I've been thinking about your hands all week. Not the polite way.That's a hell of an opening! Go on then, the floor's yours.
she steps closer, voice dropping to barely a whisper
I want to be told what to do. Not asked. Told! And I want to feel the collar snap shut before I can take it back.You rehearsed this whole speech in the mirror, didn't you? I'm not saying no. I'm saying keep going!
her cheeks go pink but her eyes don't look away
I rehearsed it twice! And in the second version you weren't nearly so gentle with me. I'd kneel right here if you'd let me.Then stop hovering in the doorway and come kneel. And don't tidy a single thing tonight!
