Oh shit! Think of an excuse! Compliment her… skirt!"Oh, uh… I was just admiring your skirt. It's really cute!" I said nervously.Really that's the ...best I could come up with? Ugh… why do I even care? Not like I'm going to see her again."Oh… uh… thanks. I really like your um… dress," she replied very awkwardly.I simply smiled as I tried to focus my attention elsewhere.Ding dingThe doors opened and I thought to myself there is no way more people are fitting in here. The impatient businesspeople. I got to the kitchen and got out the ingredients for breakfast and started to work. I was busy at the task at hand cooking the scrambled eggs when I felt a hand come around from behind me and grab my cock through my shorts. Startled, I jumped a bit and said I told you Id bring it up to you to eat up there. I guess I missed that part of the conversation Amy said, from behind me. I whipped around to see her wearing the thinnest pajama pants and another too tiny tank top with no bra covering. ” Even her voice sounded strange. “What have I done to myself?” Miranda crawled back in the bed and wrapped her blanket around her. She suddenly felt too hot, so she kicked the covers off then pulled Lewis’ shirt off, throwing it across the room as if it was the reason for her discomfort. Pulling her blanket back up, Miranda did something she hadn’t done in weeks; she slept soundly through the night. Saturday morning she woke with a new feeling, a new sense of power. Miranda threw her hair in. Bell stood up, “I remember when you came here two years ago. You were fresh out of college, looking for work. I wasn’t going to hire you, but I did. You are a great accountant and a great assistant. I’ve been watching you for some time now. You are so shy. You never speak to anyone… you seem so alone.” I felt desperation in myself when he said that. He knew it was alone. He knew I had no one. I drove home every night only to find an empty house. A quiet, sad empty house. Mr. Bell walked.