Kalena, forty something She was a refugee from Czechoslovakia. I never took much notice of her, mooching about in an old house-coat cover-all thing. ...ot what you'd call a 'looker', but she had a cheeky little smile. Sometimes when she'd finished we might have a coffee and a chat and on Fridays she sneaked a shower in the 'executive bathroom' on the top floor (attic). They had nice soap, big mirrors, and posh towels. 'I see my boyfriend tonight. It save time. Is OK?'Course it is. In the summer. I sat there for a few minutes, absorbing the heat and staring off into space, wondering if I had finally lost my mind. I shook my head giving myself a sarcastic half-smile as I finally brought the mug up for a first sip of the rich liquid."Hi," said a deep voice with that adorable southern accent I had heard only at the end of a few long distance calls. My hand froze in midair and my eyes flew up to the voice. I only glanced at his face for a second, but I knew before I looked who it was."Hi!". More

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