Chapter Three
Plaything of a Goddess
When the hotel staff discovered me and removed the four sets of handcuffs, I suffered even more degradation. Would I press charges? Let’s see: I could accuse the Countess of my stupidity and hang out all my dirty laundry in court for the press to have a field day. ‘Press’ served a double meaning in this case, because the reporters would flatten and steam me like a laundry press.
My only witness was no longer on duty. One of the housekeepers said he quit his job to go look for ‘some high-class dame’—I knew he sought the Countess. Besides, the Countess had so thoroughly bedazzled him that, even if they located him, he’d stonewall everybody about what had happened out of loyalty to his new-found Goddess. God help him if he found the Countess! She’d scre
