Will I Get The Interview?

Holly walked in this morning. I hadn’t seen her in nine years, and damn if she didn’t still look good enough to stop traffic. She wanted the full tricky routine—my usual special. Felt her body under my hands again and every old habit came roaring back like it never left. She asked about the manager, so I told her the gig wasn’t only managerial; it involved other duties. Took her about two seconds to drop the smile and admit she needed work. News like that makes bargaining so much simpler. I offered the interview and she offered to pay with a little extra on the table. Too bad she never asked if the place even hired female masseuses. She fucked me over nine years ago, so I figured it was time to return the favor. Poor Holly. I win again.