“What do you want?” I managed to gasp. My cheek burned from the slap and I could feel it sting where his ring had broken the skin.He leaned close,...his spit hitting my face. “What do I want? What do I want? I want some respect you asshole. Nobody comes into my house and embarrasses me like that.”I was totally helpless and afraid of getting a beating, so I said, “I’m sorry Tony.”“You’re sorry? I’ll tell you what, you’re a sorry sack of shit.”“I said I’m sorry; what else do you want?”“What else do. As well as appreciating her consideration, let metell you not many show that for the humble cleaner, I noticed she waswearing shapeless black slacks and a loose, plain blouse that hungover her waist and hips; the clothes of a woman who hated her body.Underneath she might have been lean and athletic, a bit like me,though she was much prettier, and nowhere near as booby. The boyscalled me Rabbit Face at school, until I was old enough to get aninteresting figure when they changed the nickname to. More

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