She had still given no sign that we any closer to her mysterious ‘trust’ zone. And that meant that we were no closer to any meaningful physical contact. But I was handling it pretty well. Until I got her text, about a week after the bridge game at Darren’s. We had gone out for a movie and ice cream only three nights before. Her message was simple: ‘We have to talk. Can you meet me at Audrey’s after work?’ Audrey’s was a small, quiet cafe that we both liked. ‘We have to talk’. Was she ready? I tried to keep my hopes in check. I replied in the affirmative. She was waiting for me when I arrived. And she wasn’t smiling. In fact, the look on her face was as serious as I’d ever seen it. – ‘What is it?’ I asked immediately. ‘Is something wrong?’ Christina looked me in the eye, but she didn’t answer. She put her hand on the table, and opened it. On her palm lay a crumpled napkin. I recognized it. It was the very same napkin I had written on some five months ago, outlining the terms of my bet. The first day of work came quickly enough. I was very nervous in spiteof the training I had received, still tottering a bit on my high heels.My first customers were a pleasant middle-aged couple. I could somehowsense the man surreptitiously checking out my body, and the womansurreptitiously appraising me for how convincing I was as a female, butmostly they just chatted or ate. After they'd finished they left areasonable sized tip, which went into the pot which would be shared outbetween us hostesses and the kitchen staff. No problems there.The next however was when disaster struck...Bunny Mother, that is to say the floor manager, assigned me, along withBunny Clare, to an office group over to one side, nine men and fourwomen. OMG, it was a group from the office where I had been workinguntil a month ago! I knew them all - I had worked alongside most ofthem.Worst of all the group included my last manager, Gareth. He had alwaysbeen belittling of me and highly critical of my work. When I.
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