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He pulled alongside, and ran round with an umbrella to open the door for her. She hopped in, and as he resumed his seat, she said, "That was very gallant, but quite unnecessary. I'm already soaked."

Noting from the way that she pronounced the word "shoaked", Mike guessed that Joanne had consumed quite a lot of booze. He drove carefully up town, as Joanne huddled against the window and gave out the occasional snuffle and sob. When they got back to the building, one of the doormen ran out to help Joanne down, and as she stumbled Mike saw that she had lost the heel from one of her Jimmy Choo shoes. Between them, Mike and the doorman got her to the elevator, where she shivered and dripped rainwater on the carpet all the way up to the Penthouse. Mike opened the door, and Joanne removed her shoes so that she could walk through with the semblance of steadiness. As she made for the guest room, Mike asked, "May I make you some coffee, Miss Joanne?" She turned, looked at him, and said, "Yes. Please. That would be nice."

Mike made coffee, and as he carried the tray through into the living room, Joanne entered it from the guest room. She was wearing a long, toweling bathrobe, her face was clean of make up and her wet, black hair was combed back behind her ears. She still seemed upset as she sat in the sofa, and Mike placed the tray with the coffee things close by. "Will that be all, Miss Joanne?" he asked.

"No, Michael, it won't. I want you to get a cup and sit down and have a coffee with me."

"Very well, Miss. I'm not sure that it's proper, but I'm here to do your bidding."

He brought a second cup from the kitchen, and poured coffee for the two of them. Joanne added cram and sugar to hers, took a sip, and put it on the table. Tears came to her eyes, and ran down her cheeks, and wordlessly, Mike passed over a box of tissues. As she leant forward to take one, the front of her robe fell open a little way, and Mike quickly and, he thought, unnoticed, averted his gaze. Joanne wiped her face, blew her nose, and held the tissue in her hand. Mike quietly took it from her, and placed it in the bin. As he returned to his chair, she glared at him. "Does nothing ever faze you, you cold Englishman?" she demanded.

"I don't know what you mean, Miss."

"I follow you into the City and fuck up your day off - yes I did, don't argue. I saw you got the room ready and then tidied it up after I went out. Then I get blitzed because of a crappy date where the guy passed out after doing cocaine and I call you out from your bed and you come without a word, and then make a pot of god-dammed coffee like there's nothing wrong. All week I've been trying to get to you, but it all just bounces off."

"Miss Joanne, I work for your Uncle. He asked me to make your stay enjoyable, and I do my best. If it means I lose a bit of my day off, so be it. Your Uncle will make it up to me."

"But you haven't done everything you can. Lenny was right, if by "a good seeing to" he meant a good screw. I thought I was going to get one tonight, but the bastard passed out on me. Now it's down to you. I want you to come to bed with me." So saying, she stood up and pulled Mike to his feet and tried to kiss him.

Mike gently held her arms, and looked into her teary eyes. "Miss Joanne" he began, "I work for your Uncle, and I am, as I say, here to do your bidding. However, I don't know that I can do that which you ask. You have, if you'll forgive me for saying so, had quite a lot to drink tonight. If I come to bed with you, in the morning you could get all remorseful and call building security and have me charged with molesting you, and with the DNA evidence, I wouldn't have much of a defense."

Joanne glared at him, "You mean you're just going to leave me hanging like this?"

"Forgive me, Miss, I was about to make a suggestion.

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