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With a little smile and what she thought seemed like an explanation, he said, “Il mio campagno di stanza.” Whatever he meant, she did not care. Her mind was made up on what she wanted to do and it did not involve much talking.The apartment door opened and he let her pass inside. The room was cozy, candlelit with family photos, concert posters, and tapestries on the wall. Thin French doors opened to a walkout balcony overlooking the harbor below and a stunning young woman with short, dyed blonde hair stood in the middle of it all. She seemed just as surprised as the newcomers because she was mid-verse singing along with Carmen. A generous glass of red wine sloshed in her hand and almost spilled as she recovered from their entrance.“Oh my God, I’m sorry.” They all shared a nervous, slightly confused laugh. “I’m Vicky”“Sono, Isabella”“Sono Claudio,” he said with a playful grin.“Yes, I remember that.”“Vino?” Isabella offered. Vicky shook her head, her eyes scanning for the space she. Draken talked with me, and his eyes never left my legs. I realized why the chair was positioned there. Whenever I was to took a letter he required me to be seated in that chair.On Tuesday I wore a knee length tight skirt, with a dark pull over sweater. It was easy to see that Mr. Draken was unhappy with the outfit I was wearing because it wasn't showing much of me. Tuesday did have one very special highlight. The list of potential candidates for the new position was posted and of the three names on it, Rick was the first one. That afternoon as I was pouring Mr. Draken a cup of coffee, he commented that Rick and I had the same last name. After I explained that Rick was my husband, he became very excited and said it would be nice if Rick got the promotion. He said this while his hand rubbed up against my rear. Later at home, I shuddered to think I actually let that dirty old man place his hand on my rear end and didn't slap him.On Wednesday, I wore a long plaid skirt with a pretty red.
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