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‘Welcome to the Adventureland family.’As soon as the girl had closed the door on her way out, Mr Jackson loosened the top button of his yellow Adventureland polo shirt and exhaled loudly. To be honest, as soon as he set eyes upon Emily he decided to hire her. He only went through the motions of the interview in order to show her that he is the one really in charge around here, that this place would fall apart without him, and although he would be her boss, he is likeable and his door is always open if she needs anything at all.He hardly listened to any of her answers to his questions; he was transfixed by her big blue eyes which looked up and to the side whenever she was thinking of the best answer; by her full red lips and the tip of her little pink tongue which darted out to moisten them before she spoke; by her ample bosom straining the buttons of her blouse as she breathed in. He had to concentrate to avoid staring at the little diamond shaped opening which formed in the fabric. "Well my next evening off is tomorrow, but you couldn't get tickets for then." Watch me," said the Emir, "I'll collect you about five and we can have an aperitif and you can show me some of Paris before the theatre." But..." she blustered."Until five tomorrow," he said, and rang off.On the other end of the 'phone she wondered how he would know where to pick her up.The Ambassador assured him that a box at the opera with twenty-four hours notice was no problem, nor was using a private entrance. The Emir's other requirements were also easily met."Send in Fathiyeh," said the Emir, "I'll have an hour's rest now."The Ambassador's wife, Fathiyeh, came into his bedroom ten minutes later, stark naked and, as he quickly ascertained, oiled front and rear. She came into the room a little nervously, carrying a dog whip which she put on the dressing table. Then she moved to the foot of the bed and started to kiss her way up his legs in the time-honoured fashion. When she reached half-way along the.
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Two little bikinis and a beach wrap followed him into the bag. One of her non-iron long dresses followed, for dinner out on Saturday night, and a day-dress and three bra-and-panties sets. Her wash-bag went in next, and cigarettes, a pack of condoms, a bottle of whisky and a bottle of wine, and her smart phone and charger. She checked the time; all done by three-fifty. At four pm she swung her car out of the garage and onto the road. By four-fifteen she was on the freeway and she knew that barring traffic snarls she’d be checking into her apartment on the beach by seven. She made good time and was there by six-fifty. Two hours before Terry Hour. That was good. On the drive down she’d recalled her conversation earlier that day with a girlfriend who had called to ask her out for drinks that evening. Em had said she couldn’t because she was going away for the weekend. Her girlfriend had demanded all the details and Em had told her. Her girlfriend, an old work colleague, had told her she.

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