I pull myself together. “May I help you?”“I was supposed to see the headmistress,” he says in a pleasant low voice as he lays his backpack on ...he floor.“At your service.”His gaze runs from my head to my toes and halts at my breasts yet again.“Oh,” is his turn to say.“I hope you’re not disappointed. Why did you need to see me? Unless you know shorthand, we’re not hiring.”“Err… this is a school, isn’t it?”“Of course.”“I’m one of your students.”An uncontrolled laugh escapes my throat. This person. . About the ending, I'm not a writer, so I can't give you one, only some ideas.She stayed with the guy from Thursday to Sunday; like the husband asked, was it the first time? I don't believe so. Now I have to confess that I'm not a saint and when I had girlfriends if I did something like that, I would be running to my house on the first night, before the morning came (perhaps it's my catholic upbringing, I don't know) or my feelings of guilt would destroy me. If I stayed it meant that I didn't. More

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