Maybe it was the lingering smell of alcohol, or memories of that night, but my knees felt weak in his presence.

Mr. Owen looked at me, loosening his tie, seemingly waiting for me to continue.

I took a deep breath, about to explain, when he leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear: "How will you thank me?"

I backed away, flushed: "Mr. Owen, David is right inside..."

His hands found my waist, pressing me against the ...