How dare you!” She stared at me, horrified. I had had enough of this.
“Please, leave me to get dressed now,” I said, turning my face to the wall.
She left and I climbed down from the couch. I pulled my trousers on,
consoled by the thought that the hair would surely grow back before our first intimate encounter.
I didn’t tip Kayla on the way out. When I returned to the office, my computer still wasn’t working.
I sat down gingerly and called Raymond in IT again, but it went straight to his preposterous message.
I decided to go upstairs and find him; from his voice mail greeting,
he sounded like the kind of person who would ignore a ringing telephone and sit around doing nothing.
Just as I pushed my chair back, a man approached my desk.
He was barely taller than me, and was wearing green training shoes,
ill-fitting denim trousers and a T-shirt showing a cartoon dog lying on top of its kennel.
It was stretched taut against a burgeoning belly. He had pale, sandy hair,
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