Daphne
I rushed through breakfast, which, despite the ice cream on my waffle, tasted like sawdust, and then I hurried back to my room to change my clothes. It was my first time seeing Nash again, I certainly didn’t want to show up wearing yesterday's rumpled office clothes. Especially not after I had dribbled strawberry juice down my boob.
I eyed my closet, half way wishing I could borrow a little black dress or something equally sexy and alluring from Pilar Larkin’s closet. Yes, I was vain enough to want Nash to get a good eyeful of what he had walked away from. However, I had no time to look for a hot dress, so I settled for a blouse, liberally unbuttoned to the top of my cleavage, and a pair of black slacks that hugged my butt and thighs.
As I pulled at them to get them buttone
