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I startled at a sound behind me, realising with horror that it was Brandon! What if he saw what I had written? What would he think of me? I couldn't bear his rejection, I couldn't live without my son. I knew I would not have him as a lover, but to be denied that bond at least would be an unthinkable cruelty.In my haste to conceal my writing, I made the critical error all furtive scribblers do; I attracted his attention to the pad, covered in my luridly detailed fantasies. "Whatcha workin'on?" He asked, peering over my shoulder."Err," I said cogently. "Nothing." He raised an eyebrow. I continued, desperately hoping to allay his suspicions. Suddenly, I seized on an inspiration. "A romance novel!" I blurted, certain that he would not be interested in a Mills and Boon weepie.My heart plunged as he reached over my shoulder, fishing out the text. I was in too much shock, had too little control over the situation to prevent it. He began to read what I had written, every sordid little detail. "Leon!" he said, finishing up his money-counting before getting up to shake my hand. "I've heard much about you. It's great to finally meet you."Finally meet me? Mark had never met this Leon character before, but Mark certainly knew my voice, so if I was going to speak to him I needed to change my voice or else he'd recognize who I really was."It's good to meet you too," I said, putting on what I thought was a Russian accent."Have you got a cold?" asked Mark. "You sound a little different." Yes, I do have a cold. I've been sick the last few days."Mark nodded. "So how has your first few weeks been? You enjoying yourself?" Very much," I said."You know why you're here, don't you? You're being promoted to brothel manager, not bad for someone who's been working here for only a few weeks. This is reward for your excellent job capturing that bitch kid and drugging the school food supplies. If you keep doing the good stuff, who knows, maybe you'll become an executive and work directly for me..
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