‘Carla,’ he said, pointing to the blond. Her hair was poofy and her western shirt was a glaring turquoise satin that he had to admit did good thin...s for her skin. The spare was Jennifer. ‘Danny MacAwley,’ Danny said. ‘Irish or Scottish,’ Carla asked. She looked like a dumb blond, but Danny suddenly sensed a spark hidden under that bubble of hair. ‘I’m Irish,’ he said. ‘Real Irish?’ Jennifer asked. ‘I didn’t think there were many black people in Ireland.’ Danny glared across the table at Pedro,. It was on Sunday. I returned from a walk and was having tea. I offered tea to Rahul but he said no and asked for car keys. He started doing his work. I was observing his work. Once in the week, he used to clean the car thoroughly. While washing, his clothes got wet. So he removed his shirt. I don’t know what happened. Just looking at his muscular body, I felt something different. A nasty thought just flashed in mind. I felt something sexual. I was feeling wet down. Oh god, what is this, I asked. More

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