If She was Honest
I walked into my office, my morning latte in hand, half consumed from the walk from the café. My assistant had arrived earlier, preparing me for the day. Jayashree had three Manila folders in the middle of my desk, placed where I couldn’t miss them. I put down my drink and removed my overcoat, hanging the leather covering on the old wooden rack in the corner. ‘Good morning, Sir,’ my lovely, exotic aide meekly said as I passed her naked bottom. She was leaning on the antique oak desk, on her...