“Carol, I’m not happy about this. In fact, that’s a total understatement. I’m bloody livid!”
Peter was studying the bruising on her breasts, she hadn’t shown him the discolouration of her ass yet, or the abrasions on her back.
“He was a little rough, that’s all.”
“That’s more than a little rough.”
“You need to see this then.”
Carol sighed and stood up, turning her back to drop the robe to the floor from where it had been draped around her midriff. She heard his sharp intake of breath as he surveyed the larger marks on her back and bottom.
“What the hell did he do to you?”
She sat down again, hung her head, close to tears.
“It’s not worth this, sweetheart,” his tone was suddenly solicitous rather than angry, “you can tell Phil in the morning you quit. If he doesn’t like it, we’ll move out as well. I’ll start looking for an apartment for us in town. We’ll manage.”
She flung her arms around him, hugged him to her naked but sore body, the tears flowing for real now. He held her, above her head his face was a mask of righteous anger. Nevertheless he could feel her shaking her head against his chest as he held her.
Finally the weeping subsided and she raised her head to look at him.
“No honey, that’s not the answer. Phil is almost as angry with the guy as you are. He didn’t get a good look at the marks until he’d got me home. Rebecca’s back is much worse than mine. He’s already promised it won’t happen again. There’ll be no more escort work.”
“But what about the rest of the management team down there? Can they all be trusted?”
Carol nodded.
“Sure, Phil holds their futures in his hands. They will continue to behave like perfect gentlemen.”
“Gentlemen?”
“Well, gentle anyway. The problem is honey . . .”