Indian Young Girl

She knew people around town, she was connected.She rose from the water, and I handed her a towel.“Stop that mooning!” she admonished me.She paced up and down her small living room, the towel wrapped around her not quite covering her as she thought out loud; payroll, inventory, leases, bills, accounting, lawyer, banker, customers, orders... “What are you staring at?” she demanded.“You’re so hot.” I said.“Well get your mind off my tushy and stick to business.” She said, “I had sex with every man I ever worked for and that’s over. If you’re going to be my boss, it’s strictly no nookie!”“The guys don’t work for Bob, they don’t work for me, they work for you.” I said, “The shop is leased, the vans are leased. The customer relations on the west side are all yours too. All I inherited is the old tooling and the name.”“The tooling would cost sixty grand to replace.” She said. “You’re right though. All you inherited was the tools.”She started to laugh, and I had to laugh too.“Delores, let’s. "The Groosce Finishing Academy for Young Ladies! How may I help?" Merry Christmas, Auntie!" There was drunken laughter from the young man at the other end of the line and Muriel heard the sounds of ribald and highly inebriated merriment in the background. Disgusting! Her nephew, Arthur again! Drat the stupid man! Married to a stupid flighty miss with painted toe nails who had never been better than she should be and the father of two undisciplined brats. If only she had those juvenile fiends under her care! She'd make the little bitches jump!"Get lost, Arthur. Don't you know phone calls cost you money and me valuable time?" Coming round tomorrow Auntie? There's always a spare place for good old Dad's sister! God rest his soul!" He was another damned fool. Just like his idiot son! Goodbye and don't phone me again or I'll inform the police!"She put down the phone and the doorbell rang. Fucking Hell's Bells! She cursed under her breath as she went to answer the door."God Rest You Merry,.
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