She stood there in her dirty white wife beater shirt, the oil-stained pants she wore at the garage where she worked and her steel toed work boots. She...smiled at herself, somedays she was such a boy. Kicking off the boots she sat and pulled her grungey socks off and undid her belt. Pulling the wife-beater over her head she managed to take the sports bra off with it in one smooth move. Standing she let her pants drop and her panties followed. She snuck out of the bedroom and quietly walked. The narrow nondescript corridor led to what had been back in the day, the live-in servants quarters. Two rooms were vacant. The third was evidently Jameson’s. I saw a pressed butler’s uniform hanging by the door. The fourth door was closed. I heard familiar jazz music coming from within the room. I listened, recognizing the artist. I knocked on the door and the music volume immediately rose responsively. I lifted my knuckles to knock again, but said the hell with it. I went back to the study,. More

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