It wouldn't do to have the rich neighbors hear this conversation, so she let him in. "I don't have the money Dylan," she started, as the door closed..."Well you owe me. So what am I going to do with you? Maybe I should talk to your dad?"Kaylee froze. "No, you don't have to do that. Just... just give me a couple weeks. I'll have it then."Dylan laughed, "Like hell you will. Shit, you still owe me from the last party, not to mention last night. I want my fucking money now." Kaylee. I look around for the pot washer, but there is no one else here.The woman waits by the sink, which contains a huge steel pot, blackened from use and full of soapy water. As she regards at me, the woman’s expression is the same as when she looked at the food: a quiet but frenzied adoration. A hunger.“Did you smell her?”The chef grunts.“I know you like to smell them.”I feel him nod.“Everywhere?”He makes a noise that sounds affirmative.“Her neck?” [grunt] “Her tits?” [sigh] “Her arse?” [snuffle]. More

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