Nada. Silence is the worst kind of torture.After about an hour, about 7:30 pm, she closed her lid. She was beside me and sat at the table. I could see...her skirt rolling up while she sat and saw her milky lower thighs. She crossed her legs, and her matching black heels and naked feet came in front of my face. Then she asked me about my work status.Me: Not completed, mam.Ma’am: (in an angry tone) Do ghante se yaha baithe ho, ac ki hawa khane thode hi bithaya hai! (You were sitting here for two. Knowing she was trying to be helpful, I allowed Emily into talking me into letting her prepare supper for the two of us. I showed her where different pans and utensils were, and made myself scarce in the living room, sitting down with a mystery novel.I had only managed to read a few pages when I noticed the most wonderful smells coming from my kitchen. With stomach growling, I went to investigate, hoping to swipe a few scraps, but apparently the kitchen was now Emily's domain, and I was shooed. More

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