She was a married woman, but unhappy, and on the many occasions we spent sat chatting whilst on the evening shift she regularly told me that she just ...oesn't get what she wants at home. After a few months of what started out as harmless flirting things began to progress and it was on an evening when we had already let the staff go home and we were in the progress of shutting up shop and setting the alarms that things really started to hot up, this particular evening the shutters wouldn't come. She was as young and lovely as she had sounded on the phone, and the two of them stared at each other for several moments before either spoke. ‘Hello. You must be Parker. I’m Chelsea McCluskey,’ she said, offering her hand. ‘Hey, hello. Sorry if I’m a little late.’ He grasped her hand firmly and shook. ‘Oh, no, don’t worry about it. Come on in.’ She pivoted on her right foot like a dancer and moved into the darkness of the hallway, and he followed. ‘Sorry it’s so dark in here right now,’. More

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