But there the resemblance stopped. She was petite, about 5'3, damned if she was over 105 pounds. Dark hair cut to frame her face. Small, swimmer's bod.... She had a six-pack (she showed me). Deep brown eyes. It was hard to see her as a girl because of the gender-neutral hats, t-shirts and khaki pants we had to wear at the restaurant I managed. It was also hard to see her as a girl because she was my eighteen-year old employee, and although I was no old man at 22, I still had my standards. No. I hopeyou weren't too uncomfortable." "No" I replied knowing that any other answer would have landed meunjustly in hot water. "Good", she replied barley stifling her laughter, "In that case youcan make me a coffee and get back to work." My heart sank but asusual I complied with her demand. What had Sandra thought about lastnight I wondered as I sat in my foot smelling office completing theaccounts for Stella. When I got home that evening Sandra was in a very distressed state."What's the. More

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