Each passing second felt like he was waiting for his execution. How did he get caught up in this?
He could barely move his limbs. Each part held in place by a leather strap resembling the ones in a mental hospital.
“Alan Turne Junior, did I pronounce that right? Or should I refer to you as ‘Al’? I don’t want to be rude.”
He nodded furiously. “Yes, ma’am. Any name you prefer to call me is fine, ma’am.”
Alan became puzzled. Even though he responded the way he thought she wanted him to, the look on her face told him she was unimpressed.
Pouty red lips wore a frown, blonde head resting in the palm of her hand with her elbow set on top of a wooden chair.
Her ladyship chose a white, long sleeved blouse paired with white shorts for their meeting, although this was far from a pleasant get-t
