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Were they maybe all just dressed up for the occasion, as an extra show-element, and decent current-day citizens in real life?"Huh!!"Anna startled as Rashid, from behind her, unexpectedly waved a printed page in front of her nose.He grinned at her sudden jump in the bonds."I was thinking our guest might be interested in this update. I'm sure you were dying to know the current status."As he moved the paper slightly further away, Anna was able to focus her eyes. It was a printout of the Kournikova forum. More specifically of the thread she had started with her 'rescue me' message. Rashid didn't grant her nearly enough time to take it all in, but the couple of passages she picked up were far from uplifting. "Funny, real funny... Don't let the door hit you on the way out!", "Please admin... ban this idiot." The 'locked' symbol and final message by the admin that the thread was closed were the icing on Rashid's demoralisation-cake. The Russian hung a little deeper in her restraints... "It. “Thank you.”“You’re welcome, Princess.” And again he left, my eyes lingering on his broad shoulders and the muscles of his wide, smooth back. I sighed as he left my sight. From the kitchen came the metallic bangs, the watery susurrus, and the wooden scrapes of a chef preparing his mise en place. I fidgeted impatiently, waiting for that familiar ring.The culinary cacophony concluded. Moments later, the tablet jingled, accompanied by John’s face and a notice that he wanted to Facetime. I accepted and waited for him to appear.“Hello there, Katelyn,” he greeted me.“Hello, my chef. Muah! What are you going to cook for me today?”“I was thinking pancakes,” he lied. I could see the English muffins ready.“Boo! I’m changing the channel!“Eggs Benedict?”“Yay! I’m not changing the channel!” I loved his passion when he cooked, his focus. Even when he did these little streams for me, his attention was focused on creating something delicious just for me. The fact that he was wearing nothing but a.
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