“Sure,”she murmured. “Are you and Dad… okay? I mean…” Monica sat with fork poised over her plate, andsomething lik... pain clouded her doubtful, searchingeyes. She sighed finally and dropped her fork on herplate, then sat back in her chair with her hands in herlap. She kept looking at my face, into my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, then hid behind a doublemouthful of cheeseburger. “No, don’t be,” Monica said quietly.. “Really, you were a masseuse?”‘WAS, being the past tense”“Ok – I’ll take you up on it, my room or yours?”“Happy with yours” I said, as he opened the door and let me in.“Do you want a drink” he asked, “I’m having a scotch”“Sure” I said, as he quickly retrieved the scotch from his minibar and poured them out.He moved the desk chair out and sat down. “will this be Ok”?“Sure, its OK , I can stand behind” as he sat down and undid the top buttons in his shirt.From above I could look down and see. More

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