"Yes, Aunt Claudia, I'll tell Jeff right away." The honey-blonde reluctant shook Jeff's sweaty shoulder. "Jeff, Jeff wake up! It's Aunt Claudia and she has an errand for you. Quick!"
"Huh? Wh-What?"
"Come on, Jeff hurry up before they get mad at us!"
"What the hell do they need a dog for at this hour?" he groaned, shaking his head to spring open his eyes and, reaching down to poke his legs into his Levi's, muttered muffled obscenities to himself. Never would he understand rich people.
CHAPTER THREE
On the cobblestone path connecting the security-tight servants' quarters with the plantation home of the Baline's, young Diana Williams' blood temporarily turned cold, which was natural enough, she reasoned, having no certain idea of what was to be expected of her. At that moment, she was thankful for the two joints of fine-grade Columbian marijuana that the Baline's so generously kept available for their servants. Not that the Baline's weren't good to their help otherwise. Man, if it hadn't been for them, she thought, mentally counting off the paces to hedge where she turned right onto the breakfast patio, she would still be working the streets for that creep Eduardo who'd made the final arrangement for her permanent assignment with the Baline's. Had she known she had been sold body and soul, her reaction might not have been so effusively ebullient.
Her platform shoes struck echoes into the night as she struggled over the uneven pavement, then paused at the door and rang the buzzer. No one entered the Baline's home without first announcing… that included guests as well. And if her guess was right, she would be something less than an honoured guest at this private party. Sharon, the other servant who shared her cabin quarters had hinted at the Baline's freakish sexual activities, and so it was with a combination of fear and excitement that she, Diana, rang the buzzer.